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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0e4ad8 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66886 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66886) diff --git a/old/66886-0.txt b/old/66886-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a02d7d1..0000000 --- a/old/66886-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13568 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of From Immigrant to Inventor, by Michael -Pupin - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: From Immigrant to Inventor - -Author: Michael Pupin - -Release Date: December 5, 2021 [eBook #66886] - -Language: English - -Produced by: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM IMMIGRANT TO -INVENTOR *** - - - - - -FROM IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR - - - - -[Illustration: _From a photograph, copyright by Underwood & Underwood_ -MICHAEL PUPIN] - - - - - FROM - IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR - - BY - MICHAEL PUPIN - - PROFESSOR OF ELECTRO-MECHANICS, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, NEW YORK - - [Illustration] - - CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS - NEW YORK · LONDON - 1949 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1922, 1923, BY - CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS - - Printed in the United States of America - - Published September, 1923 - - Reprinted November, 1928; January, March, 1924 - July, 1924 - - - - -TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER - - - - -PREFACE - - -Looking back over the development of this volume throughout the year or -more during which I have been writing it, it seems to me that I cannot -better express the end I have had in view than to repeat here what I -wrote at the beginning of Chapter XI: - -“The main object of my narrative was, and still is, to describe the -rise of idealism in American science, and particularly in physical -sciences and the related industries. I was a witness to this gradual -development; everything that I have described so far was an attempt to -qualify as a witness whose testimony has competence and weight. But -there are many other American scientists whose opinions in this matter -have more competence and weight than my opinion has. Why, then, should -a scientist who started his career as a Serbian immigrant speak of -the idealism in American science when there are so many native-born -American scientists who know more about this subject than I do? Those -who have read my narrative so far can answer this question. I shall -only point out now that there are certain psychological elements in the -question which justify me in the belief that occasionally an immigrant -can see things which escape the attention of the native. Seeing is -believing; let him speak who has the faith, provided that he has a -message to deliver.” - - MICHAEL PUPIN. - - - - -CONTENTS - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. WHAT I BROUGHT TO AMERICA 1 - - II. THE HARDSHIPS OF A GREENHORN 43 - - III. THE END OF THE APPRENTICESHIP AS GREENHORN 72 - - IV. FROM GREENHORN TO CITIZENSHIP AND COLLEGE - DEGREE 100 - - V. FIRST JOURNEY TO IDVOR IN ELEVEN YEARS 138 - - VI. STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE 167 - - VII. END OF STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE 192 - - VIII. STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN 218 - - IX. END OF STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN 247 - - X. THE FIRST PERIOD OF MY ACADEMIC CAREER AT - COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY 279 - - XI. THE RISE OF IDEALISM IN AMERICAN SCIENCE 311 - - XII. THE NATIONAL RESEARCH COUNCIL 349 - - INDEX 389 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - Michael Pupin Frontispiece - - Pupin’s Birthplace FACING PAGE 4 - - The Old Monument on Staro Selo 4 - - Olympiada Pupin, Mother of Michael Pupin 10 - - The Village Church in Idvor 36 - - Nassau Hall, Princeton University 68 - - An Early View of Cooper Union 74 - - Men of Progress--American Inventors 78 - - Photograph of Pupin Taken in 1883 136 - - Joseph Henry 204 - - John Tyndall 204 - - Michael Faraday 220 - - Herman von Helmholtz 232 - - The Hertzian Oscillator page 265 - - Henry Augustus Rowland 290 - - James Clerk Maxwell 290 - - Electrical Discharges Representing Two Types - of Solar Coronæ 294 - - Solar Corona of 1922 294 - - Sir J. J. Thomson 306 - - Wilhelm Konrad Rœntgen 306 - - Pupin’s Residence at Norfolk, Conn. 328 - - Dr. George Ellery Hale, Honorary Chairman of - the National Research Council 372 - - The National Research Council Building, - Washington, D. C. 372 - - Facsimile of Letter from President Harding page 386 - - - - -FROM IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR - -I - -WHAT I BROUGHT TO AMERICA - - -When I landed at Castle Garden, forty-eight years ago, I had only five -cents in my pocket. Had I brought five hundred dollars, instead of five -cents, my immediate career in the new, and to me a perfectly strange, -land would have been the same. A young immigrant such as I was then -does not begin his career until he has spent all the money which he -has brought with him. I brought five cents, and immediately spent it -upon a piece of prune pie, which turned out to be a bogus prune pie. -It contained nothing but pits of prunes. If I had brought five hundred -dollars, it would have taken me a little longer to spend it, mostly -upon bogus things, but the struggle which awaited me would have been -the same in each case. It is no handicap to a boy immigrant to land -here penniless; it is not a handicap to any boy to be penniless when he -strikes out for an independent career, provided that he has the stamina -to stand the hardships that may be in store for him. - - * * * * * - -A thorough training in the arts and crafts and a sturdy physique -capable of standing the hardships of strenuous labor do entitle the -immigrant to special considerations. But what has a young and penniless -immigrant to offer who has had no training in any of the arts or crafts -and does not know the language of the land? Apparently nothing, and -if the present standards had prevailed forty-eight years ago I should -have been deported. There are, however, certain things which a young -immigrant may bring to this country that are far more precious than any -of the things which the present immigration laws prescribe. Did I bring -any of these things with me when I landed at Castle Garden in 1874? I -shall try to answer this question in the following brief story of my -life prior to my landing in this country. - -Idvor is my native town; but the disclosure of this fact discloses -very little, because Idvor cannot be found on any map. It is a little -village off the highway in the province of Banat, formerly belonging -to Austria-Hungary, but now an important part of the kingdom of the -Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. At the Paris peace conference, in 1919, -the Rumanians claimed this province; they claimed it in vain. They -could not overcome the fact that the population of Banat is Serb, and -particularly of that part of Banat where Idvor is located. President -Wilson and Mr. Lansing knew me personally, and when they were informed -by the Yugoslav delegates in Paris that I was a native of Banat, -the Rumanian arguments lost much of their plausibility. No other -nationality except the Serb has ever lived in Idvor. The inhabitants of -Idvor were always peasants; most of them were illiterate in my boyhood -days. My father and mother could neither read nor write. The question -arises now: What could a penniless boy of fifteen, born and bred -under such conditions, bring to America, which under any conceivable -immigration laws would entitle him to land? But I was confident that -I was so desirable an acquisition to America that I should be allowed -to land, and I was somewhat surprised that people made no fuss over me -when I landed. - - * * * * * - -The Serbs of Idvor from time immemorial always considered themselves -the brothers of the Serbs of Serbia, who are only a few gunshots away -from Idvor on the south side of the Danube. The Avala Mountain, near -Belgrade in Serbia, can easily be seen from Idvor on every clear day. -This blue and, to me at that time, mysterious-looking peak seemed -always like a reminder to the Serbs of Banat that the Serbs of Serbia -were keeping an eye of affectionate watchfulness upon them. - -When I was a boy Idvor belonged to the so-called military frontier of -Austria. A bit of interesting history is attached to this name. Up -to the beginning of the eighteenth century the Austrian Empire was -harassed by Turkish invasions. At periodically recurring intervals -Turkish armies would cross her southern frontier, formed by the Rivers -Danube and Sava, and penetrate into the interior provinces. Toward the -end of the seventeenth century they advanced as far as Vienna, and -would have become a serious menace to the whole of Europe if the Polish -king Sobiesky had not come to the rescue of Vienna. It was at that time -that Emperor Leopold I, of Austria, invited Charnoyevich, the Serb -Patriarch of Pech, in old Serbia, to move with thirty-five thousand -picked families of old Serbia into the Austrian territory north of the -Danube and the Sava Rivers, to become its guardians. For three hundred -years these Serbs had been fighting the Turks and had acquired great -skill in this kind of warfare. In 1690 the Patriarch with these picked -families moved into Austria and settled in a narrow strip of territory -on the northern banks of these two rivers. They organized what was -known later as the military frontier of Austria. 1690 is, according to -tradition, the date when my native village Idvor was founded, but not -quite on its present site. The original site is a very small plateau a -little to the north of the present site. - -[Illustration: IN THE HOUSE ON THE LEFT WITH THREE WINDOWS, A TYPICAL -PEASANT HOUSE OF IDVOR, PUPIN WAS BORN - - On the right is the spire of the church on the - village green] - -Banat is a perfectly level plain, but near the village of Idvor the -River Tamish has dug out a miniature canyon, and on the plateau of -one of the promontories of this canyon was the old site of Idvor. -It is connected to the new site by a narrow neck. The old site was -selected because it offered many strategical advantages of defense -against the invading Turk. The first settlers of the old village lived -in subterranean houses which could not be seen at a distance by the -approaching enemy. Remnants of these subterranean houses were still in -existence when I was a schoolboy in the village of Idvor, over fifty -years ago. The location of the original church was marked by a little -column built of bricks and bearing a cross. In a recess on the side of -the column was the image of St. Mary with the Christ Child, illuminated -by a burning wick immersed in oil. The legend was that this flame was -never allowed to go out, and that a religious procession by the good -people of Idvor to the old monument was sure to avert any calamity, -like pestilence or drought, that might be threatening the village. I -took part in many of these processions to the old deserted village, -and felt every time that I was standing upon sacred ground; sacred -because of the Christian blood shed there during the struggles of the -Christian Serbs of Idvor against the Turkish invaders. Every visit to -the old village site refreshed the memories of the heroic traditions -of which the village people were extremely proud. They were poor in -worldly goods, those simple peasant folk of Idvor, but they were rich -in memories of their ancient traditions. - -[Illustration: THE OLD MONUMENT ON STARO SELO, THE OLD VILLAGE, WHERE -THE ORIGINAL SETTLERS OF IDVOR LIVED IN SUBTERRANEAN DWELLINGS] - -As I look back upon my childhood days in the village of Idvor, I feel -that the cultivation of old traditions was the principal element in -the spiritual life of the village people. The knowledge of these -traditions was necessary and sufficient to them, in order to understand -their position in the world and in the Austrian Empire. When my people -moved into Austria under Patriarch Charnoyevich and settled in the -military frontier, they had a definite agreement with Emperor Leopold -I. It was recorded in an Austrian state document called Privilegia. -According to this ancient document the Serbs of the military frontier -were to enjoy a spiritual, economic, and political autonomy. Lands -granted to them were their own property. In our village we maintained -our own schools and our own churches, and each village elected its -own local administration. Its head was the Knez, or chief, usually a -sturdy peasant. My father was a Knez several times. The bishops and -the people elected their own spiritual and political heads, that is, -the Patriarch and the Voyvoda (governor). We were free and independent -peasant landlords. In return for these privileges, the people obligated -themselves to render military service for the defense of the southern -frontiers of the empire against the invading Turks. They had helped -to drive the Turks across the Danube, under the supreme command of -Prince Eugene of Savoy, in the beginning of the eighteenth century. -After the emperor had discovered the splendid fighting qualities of -the Serbs of the military frontier, he managed to extend the original -terms of the Privilegia so as to make it obligatory upon the military -frontiersmen to defend the empire against any and every enemy. -Subsequently the Serbs of the military frontier of Austria defended -Empress Maria Theresa against Frederick the Great; they defended -Emperor Francis against Napoleon; they defended Emperor Ferdinand -against the rebellious Hungarians in 1848 and 1849; and in 1859 and -1866 they defended Austria against Italy. The military exploits of the -men of Idvor during these wars supplied material for the traditions of -Idvor, which were recorded in many tales and stirring songs. Reading -and writing did not flourish in Idvor in those days, but poetry did. - -Faithful to the old customs of the Serb race, the people of Idvor held -during the long winter evenings their neighborhood gatherings, and -as a boy I attended many of them at my father’s house. The older men -would sit around the warm stove on a bench which was a part of the -stove and made of the same material, usually soft brick plastered over -and whitewashed. They smoked and talked and looked like old senators, -self-appointed guardians of all the wisdom of Idvor. At the feet of -the old men were middle-aged men, seated upon low stools, each with a -basket in front of him, into which he peeled the yellow kernels from -the seasoned ears of corn, and this kept him busy during the evening. -The older women were seated on little stools along the wall; they -would be spinning wool, flax, or hemp. The young women would be sewing -or knitting. I, a favorite child of my mother, was allowed to sit -alongside of her and listen to the words of wisdom and words of fiction -dropping from the mouths of the old men and sometimes also from the -mouths of the middle-aged and younger men, when the old men gave them -permission to speak. At intervals the young women would sing a song -having some relation to the last tale. For instance, when one of the -old men had finished a tale about Karageorge and his historic struggles -against the Turks, the women would follow with a song describing a -brave Voyvoda of Karageorge, named Hayduk Velyko, who with a small band -of Serbians defended Negotin against a great Turkish army under Moula -Pasha. This gallant band, as the song describes them, reminds one of -the little band of Greeks at Thermopylæ. - -Some of the old men present at these gatherings had taken part in the -Napoleonic wars, and they remembered well also the stories which they -had heard from their fathers relating to the wars of Austria against -Frederick the Great during the eighteenth century. The middle-aged men -had participated in the fighting during the Hungarian revolution, and -the younger men had just gone through the campaigns in Italy in 1859 -and 1866. One of the old men had taken part in the battle of Aspern, -when Austria defeated Napoleon. He had received a high imperial -decoration for bravery, and was very proud of it. He also had gone to -Russia with an Austrian division during Napoleon’s campaign of 1812. -His name was Baba Batikin, and in the estimation of the village people -he was a seer and a prophet, because of his wonderful memory and his -extraordinary power of description. His diction was that of a guslar -(Serbian minstrel). He not only described vividly what went on in -Austria and in Russia during the Napoleonic wars in which he himself -participated, but he would also thrill his hearers by tales relating to -the Austrian campaigns against Frederick the Great, which his father -upon his return from the battle-fields of Silesia had related to him. -I remember quite well his stories relating to Karageorge of Serbia, -whom he had known personally. He called him the great Vozhd, or leader -of the Serbian peasants, and never grew weary of describing his heroic -struggles against the Turks in the beginning of the nineteenth century. -These tales about Karageorge were always received at the neighborhood -gatherings with more enthusiasm than any other of his stirring -narratives. Toward the end of the evening Baba Batikin would recite -some of the old Serbian ballads, many of which he knew by heart. During -these recitations his thin and wrinkled face would light up; it was the -face of a seer, as I remember it, and I can see now his bald head with -a wonderful brow, towering over bushy eyebrows through which the light -of his deep-set eyes would shine like the light of the moon through -the needles of an aged pine. It was from him that the good people of -Idvor learned the history of the Serb race from the battle of the field -of Kossovo in 1389 down to Karageorge. He kept alive the old Serb -traditions in the village of Idvor. He was my first and my best teacher -in history. - -The younger men told tales relating to Austrian campaigns in Italy, -glorifying the deeds of valor of the men of Idvor in these campaigns. -The battle of Custozza in 1866, in which the military frontiersmen -nearly annihilated the Italian armies, received a great deal of -attention, because the men who described it had participated in it, -and had just returned from Italy. But I remember that every one of -those men was full of praise of Garibaldi, the leader of the Italian -people in their struggles for freedom. They called him the Karageorge -of Italy. I remember also that in my father’s house, in which these -winter-evening gatherings took place, there was a colored picture of -Garibaldi with his red shirt and a plumed hat. The picture was hung up -alongside of the Ikona, the picture of our patron saint; on the other -side of the Ikona was the picture of the Czar of Russia, who only a -few years before had emancipated the Russian serfs. In the same room -and hanging in a very conspicuous place all by itself was a picture of -Karageorge, the leader of the Serbian revolution. The picture of the -Austrian emperor was not there after 1869! - -The Serb ballads recited by Baba Batikin glorified the great national -hero, Prince Marko, whose combats were the combats of a strong man in -defense of the weak and of the oppressed. Marko, although a prince -of royal blood, never fought for conquest of territory. According to -the guslar, Prince Marko was a true champion of right and justice. -At that time the Civil War in America had just come to a close, and -the name of Lincoln, whenever mentioned by Baba Batikin, suggested -an American Prince Marko. The impressions which I carried away from -these neighborhood gatherings were a spiritual food which nourished -in my young mind the sentiment that the noblest thing in this world -is the struggle for right, justice, and freedom. It was the love of -freedom and of right and justice which made the Serbs of the military -frontier desert their ancestral homes in old Serbia and move into -Austria, where they gladly consented to live in subterranean houses and -crawl like woodchucks under the ground as long as they could enjoy the -blessings of political freedom. - - * * * * * - -The military frontiersmen had their freedom guaranteed to them by -the Privilegia, and, in exchange for their freedom, they were always -ready to fight for the Emperor of Austria on any battle-field. Loyalty -to the emperor was the cardinal virtue of the military frontiersmen. -It was that loyalty which overcame their admiration for Garibaldi in -1866; hence the Austrian victory at Custozza. The Emperor of Austria -as a guardian of their freedom received a place of honor in the -selected class of men like Prince Marko, Karageorge, Czar Alexander the -Liberator, Lincoln, and Garibaldi. These were the names recorded in the -Hall of Fame of Idvor. When, however, the emperor, in 1869, dissolved -the military frontier and delivered its people to the Hungarians, the -military frontiersmen felt that they were betrayed by the emperor, who -had broken his faith to them recorded in the Privilegia. I remember -my father saying to me one day: “Thou shalt never be a soldier in the -emperor’s army. The emperor has broken his word; the emperor is a -traitor in the eyes of the military frontiersmen. We despise the man -who is not true to his word.” This is the reason why the picture of the -Emperor of Austria was not allowed a place in my father’s house after -1869. - -As I look back upon those days I feel, as I always felt, that this -treacherous act of the Austrian emperor in 1869 was the beginning of -the end of the Austrian Empire. It was the beginning of nationalism in -the realm of Emperor Francis Joseph of Hapsburg. The love of the people -for the country in which they lived began to languish and finally died. -When that love dies, the country also must die. This was the lesson -which I learned from the illiterate peasants of Idvor. - -[Illustration: OLYMPIADA PUPIN, MOTHER OF MICHAEL PUPIN - - From a photograph taken in 1880] - - * * * * * - -My teacher in the village school never succeeded in making upon my -mind that profound impression which was made upon it by the men at -the neighborhood gatherings. They were men who had gone out into the -world and taken an active part in the struggles of the world. Reading, -writing, and arithmetic appeared to me like instruments of torture -which the teacher, who, in my opinion at that time, knew nothing of -the world, had invented in order to interfere as much as possible -with my freedom, particularly when I had an important engagement with -my chums and playmates. But my mother soon convinced me that I was -wrong. She could neither read nor write, and she told me that she -always felt that she was blind, in spite of the clear vision of her -eyes. So blind, indeed, that, as she expressed it, she did not dare -venture into the world much beyond the confines of my native village. -This was as far as I remember now the mode of reasoning which she -would address to me: “My boy, if you wish to go out into the world -about which you hear so much at the neighborhood gatherings, you must -provide yourself with another pair of eyes; the eyes of reading and -writing. There is so much wonderful knowledge and learning in the -world which you cannot get unless you can read and write. Knowledge -is the golden ladder over which we climb to heaven; knowledge is the -light which illuminates our path through this life and leads to a -future life of everlasting glory.” She was a very pious woman, and had -a rare knowledge of both the Old and the New Testaments. The Psalms -were her favorite recitations. She knew also the lives of saints. St. -Sava was her favorite saint. She was the first to make me understand -the story of the life of this wonderful Serb. This, briefly stated, -was the story which she told me: Sava was the youngest son of the Serb -Zhupan Nemanya. At an early age he renounced his royal titles and -retired to a monastery on Mount Athos and devoted many years to study -and meditation. He then returned to his native land, in the beginning -of the thirteenth century, and became the first Serbian archbishop and -founded an autonomous Serbian church. He also organized public schools -in his father’s realm, where Serbian boys and girls had an opportunity -to learn how to read and write. Thus he opened the eyes of the Serbian -people, and the people in grateful recognition of these great services -called him St. Sava the Educator, and praised forever his saintly name -and memory. Seven hundred years had passed since St. Sava’s time, but -not one of them had passed without a memorial celebration dedicated to -him in every town and in every home where a Serb lived. - -This was a revelation to me. Like every schoolboy, I attended, of -course, every year in January, the celebrations of St. Sava’s day. -On these occasions we unruly boys made fun of the big boy who in a -trembling and awkward voice was reciting something about St. Sava, -which the teacher had written out for him. After this recitation, the -teacher, with a funny nasal twang, would do his best to supplement in -a badly articulated speech what he had written out for the big boy, -and finally the drowsy-looking priest would wind up with a sermon -bristling with archaic Slavonic church expressions, which to us unruly -boys sounded like awkward attempts of a Slovak mouse-trap dealer to -speak Serbian. Our giggling merriment then reached a climax, and so -my mischievous chums never gave me a chance to catch the real meaning -of the ceremonies on St. Sava’s day. My mother’s story of St. Sava -and the way in which she told it made the image of St. Sava appear -before me for the first time in the light of a saint who glorified the -value of books and of the art of writing. I understood then why mother -placed such value upon reading and writing. I vowed to devote myself to -both, even if that should make it necessary to neglect my chums and -playmates, and soon I convinced my mother that in reading and writing I -could do at least as well as any boy. The teacher observed the change; -he was astonished, and actually believed that a miracle had occurred. -My mother believed in miracles, and told the teacher that the spirit of -St. Sava was guiding me. One day she told him in my presence that in a -dream she saw St. Sava lay his hands upon my head, and then turning to -her say: “Daughter Piada, your boy will soon outgrow the village school -of Idvor. Let him then go out into the world, where he can find more -brain food for his hungry head.” Next year the teacher selected me to -make the recitation on St. Sava’s day, and he wrote out the speech for -me. My mother amended and amplified it and made me rehearse it for her -over and over again. On St. Sava’s day the first public speech of my -life was delivered by me. The success was overwhelming. My chums, the -unruly boys, did not giggle; on the contrary, they looked interested, -and that encouraged me much. The people said to each other that even -old Baba Batikin could not have done much better. My mother cried for -joy; my teacher shook his head, and the priest looked puzzled, and they -both admitted that I had outgrown the village school of Idvor. - - * * * * * - -At the end of that year my mother prevailed upon my father to send -me to a higher school in the town of Panchevo, on the Tamish River, -about fifteen miles south of Idvor, quite near the point where the -Tamish flows into the Danube. There I found teachers whose learning -made a deep impression upon me, particularly their learning in natural -science, a subject entirely unknown in Idvor. There I heard for the -first time that an American named Franklin, operating with a kite and -a key, had discovered that lightning was a passage of an electrical -spark between clouds, and that thunder was due to the sudden expansion -of the atmosphere heated by the passage of the electrical spark. The -story was illustrated by an actual frictional electrical machine. This -information thrilled me; it was so novel and so simple, I thought, and -so contrary to all my previous notions. During my visit home I eagerly -took the first opportunity to describe this new knowledge to my father -and his peasant friends, who were seated in front of our house and were -enjoying their Sunday-afternoon talks. I suddenly observed that my -father and his friends looked at each other in utter astonishment. They -seemed to ask each other the question: “What heresy may this be which -this impudent brat is disclosing to us?” And then my father, glaring -at me, asked whether I had forgotten that he had told me on so many -occasions that thunder was due to the rumbling of St. Elijah’s car as -he drove across the heavens, and whether I thought that this American -Franklin, who played with kites like an idle boy, knew more than the -wisest men of Idvor. I always had a great respect for my father’s -opinions, but on that occasion I could not help smiling with a smile of -ill-concealed irony which angered him. When I saw the flame of anger -in his big black eyes I jumped and ran for safety. During supper my -father, whose anger had cooled considerably, described to my mother the -heresy which I was preaching on that afternoon. My mother observed that -nowhere in the Holy Scriptures could he find support of the St. Elijah -legend, and that it was quite possible that the American Franklin was -right and that the St. Elijah legend was wrong. In matters of correct -interpretation of ancient authorities my father was always ready -to abide by the decisions of my mother, and so father and I became -reconciled again. My mother’s admission of the possibility that the -American Franklin might, after all, be wiser than all the wise men of -Idvor, and my father’s silent consent, aroused in me a keen interest in -America. Lincoln and Franklin were two names with which my early ideas -of America were associated. - -During those school-days in Panchevo I passed my summer vacation in my -native village. Idvor, just like the rest of Banat, lives principally -from agriculture, and during harvest-time it is as busy as a beehive. -Old and young, man and beast, concentrate all their efforts upon the -harvest operations. But nobody is busier than the Serbian ox. He is -the most loyal and effective servant of the Serb peasant everywhere, -and particularly in Banat. He does all the ploughing in the spring, -and he hauls the seasoned grain from the distant fertile fields to -the threshing-grounds in the village when the harvesting season is -on. The commencement of the threshing operations marks the end of the -strenuous efforts of the good old ox; his summer vacation begins, and -he is sent to pasture-lands to feed and to rest and to prepare himself -for autumn hauling of the yellow corn and for the autumn ploughing of -the fields. The village boys who are not big enough to render much help -on the threshing-grounds are assigned to the task of watching over -the grazing oxen during their summer vacation. The school vacation -of the boys coincided with the vacation of the good old ox. Several -summers I passed in that interesting occupation. These were my only -summer schools, and they were the most interesting schools that I ever -attended. - -The oxen of the village were divided into herds of about fifty head, -and each herd was guarded by a squad of some twelve boys from families -owning the oxen in the herd. Each squad was under the command of a -young man who was an experienced herdsman. To watch a herd of fifty -oxen was not an easy task. In daytime the job was easy, because the -heat of the summer sun and the torments of the ever-busy fly made the -oxen hug the shade of the trees, where they rested awaiting the cooler -hours of the day. At night, however, the task was much more difficult. -Being forced to hug the shade of the trees during daytime, the oxen -would get but little enjoyment of the pasture, and so when the night -arrived they were quite hungry and eagerly searched for the best of -feed. - - * * * * * - -I must mention now that the pasture-lands of my native village lay -alongside of territory of a score of square miles which in some years -were all planted in corn. During the months of August and September -these vast corn-fields were like deep forests. Not far from Idvor -and to the east of the corn-fields was a Rumanian settlement which -was notorious for its cattle-thieves. The trick of these thieves was -to hide in the corn-fields at night and to wait until some cattle -strayed into these fields, when they would drive them away and hide -them somewhere in their own corn-fields on the other side of their -own village. To prevent the herd from straying into the corn-fields -at night was a great task, for the performance of which the boys had -to be trained in daytime by their experienced leader. It goes without -saying that each day we boys first worked off our superfluous energy -in wrestling, swimming, hockey, and other strenuous games, and then -settled down to the training in the arts of a herdsman which we had -to practise at night. One of these arts was signalling through the -ground. Each boy had a knife with a long wooden handle. This knife -was stuck deep into the ground. A sound was made by striking against -the wooden handle, and the boys, lying down and pressing their ears -close to the ground, had to estimate the direction and the distance -of the origin of sound. Practice made us quite expert in this form -of signalling. We knew at that time that the sound travelled through -the ground far better than through the air, and that a hard and solid -ground transmitted sound much better than the ploughed-up ground. We -knew, therefore, that the sound produced this way near the edge of the -pasture-land could not be heard in the soft ground of the corn-fields -stretching along the edge. A Rumanian cattle-thief, hidden at night -in the corn-fields, could not hear our ground signals and could not -locate us. Kos, the Slovenian, my teacher and interpreter of physical -phenomena, could not explain this, and I doubt very much whether the -average physicist of Europe at that time could have explained it. It is -the basis of a discovery which I made about twenty-five years after my -novel experiences in that herdsmen’s summer school in Idvor. - - * * * * * - -On perfectly clear and quiescent summer nights on the plains of my -native Banat, the stars are intensely bright and the sky looks black -by contrast. “Thy hair is as black as the sky of a summer midnight” -is a favorite saying of a Serbian lover to his lady-love. On such -nights we could not see our grazing oxen when they were more than a -few score of feet from us, but we could hear them if we pressed our -ears close to the ground and listened. On such nights we boys had -our work cut out for us. We were placed along a definite line at -distances of some twenty yards apart. This was the dead-line, which -separated the pasture-lands from the corn-field territory. The motto -of the French at Verdun was: “They shall not pass!” This was our -motto, too, and it referred equally to our friends, the oxen, and to -our enemies, the Rumanian cattle-thieves. Our knife-blades were deep -in the ground and our ears were pressed against the handles. We could -hear every step of the roaming oxen and even their grazing operations -when they were sufficiently near to the dead-line. We knew that these -grazing operations were regulated by the time of the night, and this -we estimated by the position of certain constellations like Orion and -the Pleiades. The positions of the evening star and of the morning -star also were closely observed. Venus was our white star and Mars was -called the red star. The Dipper, the north star, and the milky way were -our compass. We knew also that when in the dead of the night we could -hear the faint sound of the church-bell of the Rumanian settlement -about four miles to the east of us, then there was a breeze from -the corn-fields to the pasture-lands, and that it carried the sweet -perfume of the young corn to the hungry oxen, inviting them to the -rich banquet-table of the corn-fields. On such nights our vigilance -was redoubled. We were then all eyes and ears. Our ears were closely -pressed to the ground and our eyes were riveted upon the stars above. - - * * * * * - -The light of the stars, the sound of the grazing oxen, and the faint -strokes of the distant church-bell were messages of caution which on -those dark summer nights guided our vigilance over the precious herd. -These messages appealed to us like the loving words of a friendly -power, without whose aid we were helpless. They were the only signs of -the world’s existence which dominated our consciousness as, enveloped -in the darkness of night and surrounded by countless burning stars, -we guarded the safety of our oxen. The rest of the world had gone -out of existence; it began to reappear in our consciousness when the -early dawn announced what we boys felt to be the divine command, “Let -there be light,” and the sun heralded by long white streamers began -to approach the eastern sky, and the earth gradually appeared as if -by an act of creation. Every one of those mornings of fifty years ago -appeared to us herdsmen to be witnessing the creation of the world--a -world at first of friendly sound and light messages which made us boys -feel that a divine power was protecting us and our herd, and then a -real terrestrial world, when the rising sun had separated the hostile -mysteries of night from the friendly realities of the day. - -Sound and light became thus associated in my early modes of thought -with the divine method of speech and communication, and this belief -was strengthened by my mother, who quoted the words of St. John: “In -the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was -God.” - -I believed also that David, some of whose Psalms, under the instruction -of my mother, I knew by heart, and who in his youth was a shepherd, -expressed my thoughts in his nineteenth Psalm: - - “The heavens declare the glory of God....” - - * * * * * - - “There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.” - -Then, there is no Serb boy who has not heard that beautiful Russian -song by Lyermontoff, the great Russian poet, which says: - - “Lonely I wander over the country road, - And in the darkness the stony path is glimmering; - Night is silent and the plains are whispering - To God, and star speaketh to star.” - -Lyermontoff was a son of the Russian plains. He saw the same burning -stars in the blackness of a summer midnight sky which I saw. He felt -the same thrill which David felt and through his Psalms transmitted -to me during those watchful nights of fifty years ago. I pity the -city-bred boy who has never felt the mysterious force of that heavenly -thrill. - -Sound and light being associated in my young mind of fifty years ago -with divine operations by means of which man communicates with man, -beast with beast, stars with stars, and man with his Creator, it is -obvious that I meditated much about the nature of sound and of light. -I still believe that these modes of communication are the fundamental -operations in the physical universe and I am still meditating about -their nature. My teachers in Panchevo rendered some assistance in -solving many of the puzzles which I met in the course of these -meditations. Kos, my Slovenian teacher, who was the first to tell me -the story of Franklin and his kite, was a great help. He soon convinced -me that sound was a vibration of bodies. This explanation agreed with -the Serbian figure of speech which says: - - “My heart quivers like the melodious string under the guslar’s bow.” - -I also felt the quivering air whenever during my term of service as -guardian of the oxen I tried my skill at the Serbian flute. Few things -excited my interest more than the operations of the Serbian bagpiper -as he forced the air from his sheepskin bellows and made it sing by -regulating its passage through the pipes. The operations which the -bagpiper called adjustment and tuning of the bagpipes commanded my -closest attention. I never dreamed then that a score of years later -I should do a similar operation with an electrical circuit. I called -it “electrical tuning,” a term which has been generally adopted in -wireless telegraphy. But nobody knows that the operation as well as the -name were first suggested to me by the Serbian bagpiper, some twenty -years before I made the invention in 1892. - -Skipping over several sections of my story, I will say now that twenty -years after my invention of electrical tuning a pupil of mine, Major -Armstrong, discovered the electrical vacuum-tube oscillator, which -promises to revolutionize wireless telegraphy and telephony. A similar -invention, but a little earlier, was made by another pupil of mine, -Mr. Vreeland. Both these inventions in their mode of operation remind -me much of the operation of Serbian bagpipes. Perhaps some of those -thrills which the Serbian bagpiper stirred up in me in my early youth -were transferred to my pupils, Armstrong and Vreeland. - - * * * * * - -I was less successful in solving my puzzles concerning the nature of -light. Kos, the Slovenian, my first guide and teacher in the study of -physical phenomena, told me the story that a wise man of Greece with -the name of Aristotle believed that light originates in the eye, which -throws out feelers to the surrounding objects, and that through these -feelers we see the objects, just as we feel them by our sense of touch. -This view did not agree with the popular saying often heard in Idvor: -“Pick your grapes before sunrise, before the thirsty sunbeams have -drunk up their cooling dew.” Nor did it agree with Bishop Nyegosh, the -greatest of Serbian poets, who says: - - “The bright-eyed dewdrops glide along the sunbeams to the heavens - above.” - -The verse from Nyegosh I obtained from a Serbian poet, who was an -arch-priest, a protoyeray, and who was my religious teacher in -Panchevo. His name, Vasa Zhivkovich, I shall never forget, because it -is sweet music to my ears on account of the memories of affectionate -friendship he cherished for me. - -According to this popular belief a beam of light has an individual -existence just like that of the melodious string under the guslar’s -bow. But neither the poet, nor the wise men of Idvor, nor Kos the -Slovenian, ever mentioned that a beam of light ever quivered, and if it -does not quiver like a vibrating body how can the sun, the moon, and -the stars proclaim the glory of God, and how can, according to David, -their voice be heard wherever there are speech and language? These -questions Kos would not answer. No wonder! Nobody to-day can give a -completely satisfactory answer to questions relating to radiation of -light. Kos was non-committal and did not seem to attach much importance -to the authorities which I quoted; namely, the Serbian poet Nyegosh, -the wise sayings of Idvor, and the Psalms of David. Nevertheless, he -was greatly interested in my childlike inquiries and always encouraged -me to go on with my puzzling questions. Once he invited me to his -house, and there I found that several of his colleagues were present. -One of them was my friend the poet-priest, and another was a Hungarian -Lutheran preacher who spoke Serbian well and was famous in Panchevo -because of his great eloquence. They both engaged me in conversation -and showed a lively interest in my summer vacation experiences as -herdsman’s assistant. The puzzling questions about light which I -addressed to Kos, and the fact that Kos would not answer, amused them. -My knowledge of the Bible and of the Psalms impressed them much, and -they asked me quite a number of questions concerning my mother. Then -they suggested that I might be transferred from the school in Panchevo -to the famous schools of Prague in Bohemia, if my father and mother did -not object to my going so far away from home. When I suggested that my -parents could not afford to support me in a great place like Prague, -they assured me that this difficulty might be fixed up. I promised to -consult my parents during the approaching Christmas vacation. I did, -but found my father irresistibly opposed to it. Fate, however, decreed -otherwise. - -The history of Banat records a great event for the early spring of -1872, the spring succeeding the Christmas when my father and mother -agreed to disagree upon the proposition that I go to Prague. Svetozar -Miletich, the great nationalist leader of the Serbs in Austria-Hungary, -visited Panchevo, and the people prepared a torchlight procession -for him. This procession was to be a protest of Panchevo and of the -whole of Banat against the emperor’s treachery of 1869. My father had -protested long before by excluding the emperor’s picture from our -house. That visit of Miletich marks the beginning of a new political -era in Banat, the era of nationalism. The schoolboys of Panchevo turned -out in great numbers, and I was one of them, proud to become one of the -torch-bearers. We shouted ourselves hoarse whenever Miletich in his -fiery speech denounced the emperor for his ingratitude to the military -frontiersmen as well as to all the Serbs of Voyvodina. Remembering my -father’s words on the occasion mentioned above, I did not hesitate to -shout in the name of the schoolboys present in the procession: “We’ll -never serve in Francis Joseph’s army!” My chums responded with: “Long -five the Prince of Serbia!” The Hungarian officials took careful notes -of the whole proceeding, and a few days later I was informed that -Panchevo was not a proper place for an ill-mannered peasant boy like -me, and that I should pack up and return to Idvor. Kos, the Slovenian, -and protoyeray Zhivkovich interfered, and I was permitted to stay. - - * * * * * - -On the first of May, following, our school celebrated the May-day -festival. The Serb youngsters in the school, who worshipped Miletich -and his nationalism, prepared a Serbian flag for the festival march. -The other boys, mostly Germans, Rumanians, and Hungarians, carried -the Austrian yellow-black standard. The nationalist group among the -youngsters stormed the bearer of the yellow-black standard, and I was -caught in the scrimmage with the Austrian flag under my feet. Expulsion -from school stared me in the face. Again protoyeray Zhivkovich came to -my defense and, thanks to his high official position and to my high -standing in school, I was allowed to continue with my class until the -end of the school year, after promising that I would not associate with -revolutionary boys who showed an inclination to storm the Austrian -flag. The matter did not end there, however. In response to an -invitation from the protoyeray, father and mother came to Panchevo to a -conference, which resulted in a triumph for my mother. It was decided -that I bid good-by to Panchevo, a hotbed of nationalism, and go to -Prague. The protoyeray and his congregation promised assistance if the -financial burden attached to my schooling in Prague should prove too -heavy for my parents. - -When the day for the departure for Prague arrived, my mother had -everything ready for my long journey, a journey of nearly two days on -a Danube steamboat to Budapest, and one day by rail from Budapest to -Prague. Two multicolored bags made of a beautifully colored web of -wool contained my belongings: one my linen, the other my provisions, -consisting of a whole roast goose and a big loaf of white bread. The -only suit of clothes which I had I wore on my back, and my sisters -told me that it was very stylish and made me look like a city-bred -boy. To tone down somewhat this misleading appearance and to provide -a warm covering during my journey for the cold autumn evenings and -nights, I wore a long yellow overcoat of sheepskin trimmed with black -wool and embroidered along the border with black and red arabesque -figures. A black sheepskin cap gave the finishing touch and marked -me as a real son of Idvor. When I said good-by to father and mother -on the steamboat landing I expected, of course, that my mother would -cry, and she did; but to my great surprise I noticed two big tears -roll down my father’s cheeks. He was a stern and unemotional person, -a splendid type of the heroic age, and when for the first time in my -life I saw a tear in his luminous eyes I broke down and sobbed, and -felt embarrassed when I saw that the steamboat passengers were taking a -sympathetic interest in my parting from father and mother. A group of -big boys on the boat took me up and offered to help me to orient myself -on the boat; they were theological students returning to the famous -seminary at Karlovci, the seat of the Serb Patriarch. I confided to -them that I was going to the schools of Prague, that I never had gone -from home farther than Panchevo, that I had never seen a big steamboat -or a railroad-train, and that my journey gave me some anxiety because -I could not speak Hungarian and had some difficulty in handling the -limited German vocabulary which I learned in Panchevo. Presently we saw -a great church-tower in the distance, and they told me that it was the -cathedral of Karlovci, and that near the cathedral was the palace of -his holiness, the Patriarch. It was at this place that the Turks begged -for peace in 1699, having been defeated with the aid of the military -frontiersmen. Beyond Karlovci, they pointed out, was the mountain of -Frushka Gora, famous in Serbian poetry. This was the first time I saw -a mountain at close range. One historical scene crowded upon another, -and I had some difficulty to take them all in even with the friendly -assistance of my theological acquaintances. When Karlovci was reached -and my theological friends left the boat, I felt quite lonesome. -I returned to my multicolored bags, and as I looked upon them and -remembered that mother had made them I felt that a part, at least, of -my honey-hearted home was so near me, and that consoled me. - - * * * * * - -I noticed that lunch was being served to people who had ordered it, -and I thought of the roast goose which mother had packed away in my -multicolored bag. I reached for the bag, but, alas! the goose was gone. -A fellow passenger, who sat near me, assured me that he saw one of the -young theologians carry the goose away while the other theologians -engaged me in conversation, and not knowing to whom the bags belonged, -he thought nothing of the incident. Besides, how could any one suspect -a student of theology? “Shades of St. Sava,” said I, “what kind of -orthodoxy will these future apostles of your faith preach to the Serbs -of Banat?” “Ah, my boy,” said an elderly lady who heard my exclamation, -“do not curse them; they did it just out of innocent mischief. This -experience will be worth many a roast goose to you; it will teach you -that in a world of strangers you must always keep one eye on what you -have and with the other eye look out for things that you do not have.” -She was a most sympathetic peasant woman, who probably had seen my -dramatic parting with father and mother on the steamboat landing. I -took her advice, and during the rest of my journey I never lost sight -of my multicolored bags and of my yellow sheepskin coat. - - * * * * * - -The sight of Budapest, as the boat approached it on the following day, -nearly took my breath away. At the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor -I had heard many a story about the splendor of the emperor’s palace -on the top of the mountain at Buda, and about the wonders of a bridge -suspended in air across the Danube and connecting Buda with Pest. Many -legends were told in Idvor concerning these wonderful things. But what -I saw with my own eyes from the deck of that steamboat surpassed all -my expectations. I was overawed, and for a moment I should have been -glad to turn back and retrace my journey to Idvor. The world outside -of Idvor seemed too big and too complicated for me. But as soon as I -landed my courage returned. With the yellow sheepskin coat on my back, -the black sheepskin cap on my head, and the multicolored bags firmly -grasped in my hands, I started out to find the railroad-station. A -husky Serb passed by and, attracted by my sheepskin coat and cap and -the multicolored bags, suddenly stopped and addressed me in Serbian. He -lived in Budapest, he said, and his glad eye and hand assured me that -a sincere friend was speaking to me. He helped me with the bags and -stayed with me until he deposited me in the train that was to take me -to Prague. He cautioned me that at about four o’clock in the morning -my train would reach Gaenserndorf (Goosetown), and that there I should -get out and get another train which would take me to Prague. The name -of this town brought back to memory my goose which had disappeared at -Karlovci, and gloomy forebodings disturbed my mind and made me a little -anxious. - - * * * * * - -This was the first railroad-train that I had ever seen. It disappointed -me; the legendary speed of trains about which I had heard so much in -Idvor was not there. When the whistle blew and the conductor shouted -“Fertig!” (Ready!), I shut my eyes and waited anxiously, expecting to -be shot forward at a tremendous speed. But the train started leisurely -and, to my great disappointment, never reached the speeds which I -expected. It was a cold October night; the third-class compartment had -only one other passenger, a fat Hungarian whom I could not understand, -although he tried his best to engage me in a conversation. My sheepskin -coat and cap made me feel warm and comfortable; I fell asleep, and -never woke up until the rough conductor pulled me off my seat and -ordered me out. - -“Vienna, last stop,” he shouted. - -“But I was going to Prague,” I said. - -“Then you should have changed at Gaenserndorf, you idiot!” answered -the conductor, with the usual politeness of Austrian officials when -they see a Serb before them. “But why didn’t you wake me up at -Gaenserndorf?” I protested. He flared up and made a gesture as if about -to box my ears, but suddenly he changed his mind and substituted a -verbal thrust at my pride. “You little fool of a Serbian swineherd, do -you expect an imperial official to assist you in your lazy habits you -sleepy mutton-head?” - -“Excuse me,” I said with an air of wounded pride, “I am not a Serbian -swineherd; I am a son of a brave military frontiersman, and I am going -to the famous schools of Prague.” - -He softened, and told me that I should have to go back to Gaenserndorf -after paying my fare to that place and back. When I informed him that I -had no money for extra travelling expenses, he beckoned to me to come -along, and after a while we stood in the presence of what I thought to -be a very great official. He had a lot of gold braid on his collar and -sleeves and on his cap, and he looked as stern and as serious as if the -cares of the whole empire rested upon his shoulders. - -“Take off your cap, you ill-mannered peasant! Don’t you know how to -behave in the presence of your superiors?” he blurted out, addressing -me. I dropped my multicolored bags, took off my yellow sheepskin coat -in order to cover the bags, and then took off my black sheepskin cap, -and saluted him in the regular fashion of a military frontiersman. I -thought that he might be the emperor himself and, if so, I wondered if -he had ever heard of my trampling upon his yellow-black flag at that -May-day festival in Panchevo. Finally, I screwed up my courage and -apologized by saying: - -“Your gracious Majesty will pardon my apparent lack of respect to my -superiors, but this is to me a world of strangers, and the anxiety -about my belongings kept my hands busy with the bags and prevented -me from taking off my cap when I approached your serene Highness.” I -noticed that several persons within hearing distance were somewhat -amused by this interview, and particularly an elderly looking couple, a -lady and a gentleman: - -“Why should you feel anxious about your bags?” said the great official. -“You are not in the savage Balkans, the home of thieves; you are in -Vienna, the residence of his Majesty, the Emperor of Austria-Hungary.” - -“Yes,” said I, “but two days ago my roast goose was stolen from one of -these bags within his Majesty’s realm, and my father told me that all -the rights and privileges of the Voyvodina and of the military frontier -were stolen right here in this very Vienna.” - -“Ah, you little rebel, do you expect that this sort of talk will -get you a free transportation from Gaenserndorf to Vienna and back -again? Restrain your rebellious tongue or I will give you a free -transportation back to your military frontier, where rebels like you -ought to be behind lock and key.” - -At this juncture the elderly looking couple engaged him in -conversation, and after a while the gold-braided mogul informed me that -my ticket from Vienna to Prague by the short route was paid for, and -that I should proceed. The rude conductor, who had called me a Serbian -swineherd a little while before, led me to the train and ushered me -politely into a first-class compartment. Presently the elderly looking -couple entered and greeted me in a most friendly, almost affectionate, -manner. They encouraged me to take off my sheepskin coat and make -myself comfortable, and assured me that my bags would be perfectly safe. - - * * * * * - -Their German speech had a strange accent, and their manner and -appearance were entirely different from anything that I had ever seen -before. But they inspired confidence. Feeling hungry, I took my loaf -of snowy-white bread out of my bag, and with my herdsman’s knife with -a long wooden handle I cut off two slices and offered them to my new -friends. “Please, take it,” said I; “it was prepared by my mother’s -hands for my long journey.” They accepted my hospitality and ate the -bread and pronounced it excellent, the best bread they had ever tasted. -I told them how it was made by mixing leaf-lard and milk with the -finest wheat flour, and when I informed them that I knew a great deal -about cooking and that I had learned it by watching my mother, the -lady appeared greatly pleased. The gentleman, her husband, asked me -questions about farming and taking care of animals, which I answered -readily, quoting my father as my authority. “You had two splendid -teachers, your father and your mother,” they said; “do you expect to -find better teachers in Prague?” I told them briefly what had sent -me to Prague, mentioning particularly that some people thought that -I had outgrown the schools not only of my native village but also of -Panchevo, but that in reality the main reason was because the Hungarian -officials did not want me in Panchevo on account of my showing a strong -inclination to develop into a rebellious nationalist. My new friends -gave each other a significant look and said something in a language -which I did not understand. They told me that it was English, and added -that they were from America. - -“America!” said I, quivering with emotion. “Then you must know a lot -about Benjamin Franklin and his kite, and about Lincoln, the American -Prince Marko.” - -This exclamation of mine surprised them greatly and furnished the -topic for a lively conversation of several hours, until the train had -reached Prague. It was conducted in broken German, but we understood -each other perfectly. I told them of my experience with Franklin’s -theory of lightning, and of its clash with my father’s St. Elijah -legend, and answered many of their questions relating to my calling -Lincoln an American Prince Marko. I quoted from several Serbian ballads -relating to Prince Marko which I had learned from Baba Batikin, and -at their urgent request described with much detail the neighborhood -gatherings in Idvor. They returned the compliment by telling me stories -of Benjamin Franklin, of Lincoln, and of America, and urged me to read -“Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” a translation of which I discovered some time -afterward. When the train reached Prague they insisted that I be their -guest at their Prague hotel, called the Blue Star, for a day, at least, -until I found my friends in Prague. I gladly accepted, and spent a -delightful evening with them. The sweetness of their disposition was -an unfathomable riddle to me. The riddle, however, was solved several -years later. - - * * * * * - -I mentioned above that the first sight of Budapest nearly took my -breath away. The first view of Prague filled me with a strange -religious fervor. The ancient gates, surmounted by towers with -wonderful stone carvings and inscriptions; the lofty domes, crowning -mediæval cathedrals, the portals of which were bristling with beautiful -images of saints; the historic public buildings, each of which told a -story of the old glories of Bohemia’s kingdom; the ancient stone bridge -across the Moldava River, supporting statues of Christian martyrs; -the royal palace on the hill of Hradchin, which seemed to rise way up -above the clouds--all these, and many other wonderful things, made me -feel that it was places like Prague which St. Sava visited when he -deserted his royal parents and went to the end of the world to seek new -knowledge. I saw then why the protoyeray of Panchevo had suggested that -I go to Prague; I even began to suspect that he expected the influence -of Prague to turn my attention to theology. I think now that it would -have done so if it had not been for that unpleasant goose incident at -Karlovci. Besides, there was another influence at Prague, which was -more powerful than any other influence in the Austrian Empire at that -time. - - * * * * * - -The sights of Prague interested me more than its famous schools, which -I was to enter and delayed entering. But finally I was enrolled, and -the boys in the school scrutinized me with a puzzled expression, as -if they could not make out what country or clime I came from. When -they found out that I hailed from the Serb military frontier, all -uncertainty vanished, and I knew exactly where I stood. The German -boys became very cold, the Czech boys greeted me in their own tongue -and hugged me when by my Serbian answer I proved not only that I -understood them but also that I expected them to understand my Serbian -greeting. They were all nationalists to the core and did their best to -make me join their ranks, which, after some reluctance, I finally did. -I showed them then two letters from protoyeray Zhivkovich introducing -me to Rieger and to Palacky, the great apostles of Panslavism and of -nationalism in Bohemia. From that day on I was one of their young -revolutionary set, and henceforth school lessons looked tame and lost -most of their charm to me. - - * * * * * - -The German victory in France two years prior to that time, resulting as -it did in the creation of a united Germany, had encouraged Teutonism to -run riot wherever it met a current opposing it, as it did in Prague. -Nationalism in Bohemia was a reaction against Austrian Teutonism in -those days, just as it was a reaction against Magyarism in Voyvodina -and in the military frontier. Hardly a day passed without serious -clashes between the Czech nationalist boys and their German classmates. -That which made my stay in Panchevo impossible met me in Prague in an -even more violent form. Loyal to the traditions of the Serbian military -frontiersmen, I liked nothing better than a good fight, and I had the -physique and the practice, gained in the pasturelands of Idvor, to lick -any German boy of my age or even older. The German pupils feared me, -and the German teachers condemned what they called my revolutionary -tendencies, and threatened to send me back to Idvor. As time went on, -I began to wish that they would expel me and give me a good excuse to -return to Idvor. I missed the wide horizon of the plains of Banat in -the narrow streets of Prague. My little bedroom in a garret, the only -living quarters that I could afford, was a sad contrast to my mode of -life on the endless plains of Banat, where for six weeks each summer -I had lived under the wide canopy of heaven, watching the grazing -oxen, gazing upon the countless stars at night, and listening to the -sweet strains of the Serbian flute. The people I met on the streets -were puffed up with Teutonic pride or with official arrogance; they -had none of the gentle manliness and friendliness of the military -frontiersmen. The teachers looked to me more like Austrian gendarmes -than like sympathetic friends. They cared more for my sentiments toward -the emperor and for my ideas about nationalism than for my ideas -relating to God and his beautiful world of life and light. Not one of -them reminded me of Kos, the Slovenian, or of protoyeray Zhivkovich in -Panchevo. Race antagonism was at that time the ruling passion. If it -had not been for the affectionate regard which the Czech boys and their -parents had for me I should have felt most lonesome; from Banat to -Prague was too sudden a change for me. - - * * * * * - -Another circumstance I must mention now which helped to brace me up. I -delivered, after many months of delay, my letters of introduction to -Rieger and to Palacky. I saw their pictures, I read about them, and -finally I heard them address huge nationalist meetings. They were great -men, I thought, and I could not screw up sufficient courage to call -on them, as the protoyeray wished me to do, and waste their precious -time on my account. But when I received a letter from the protoyeray -in Panchevo asking why I had not delivered the letters of introduction -he had given me, I made the calls. Rieger looked like my father: dark, -stern, reserved, powerful of physique, with a wonderful luminosity in -his eyes. He gave me coffee and cake, consuming a generous supply of -them himself. When I kissed his hand, bidding him good-by, he gave -me a florin for pocket-money, patted me on the cheek, and assured me -that I could easily come up to the protoyeray’s expectations and -surprise my teachers if I would only spend more time on my books and -less on my nationalist chums. This suggestion and indirect advice -made me very thoughtful. Palacky was a gentle, smooth-faced, old -gentleman, who looked to me then as if he knew everything that men -had ever known, and that much study had made him pale and delicate. -He was much interested in my description of the life and customs of -my native village, and when I mentioned St. Sava, he drew a parallel -between this saint and Yan Huss, the great Czech patriot and divine, -who was burned at the stake in 1415 at Constance because he demanded -a national democratic church in Bohemia. He gave me a book in which I -could read all about Huss and the Hussite wars and about the one-eyed -Zhizhka, the great Hussite general. He gave me no coffee nor cake, -probably because his health did not permit him to indulge in eatables -between meals, but assured me of assistance if I should ever need it. I -eagerly read the book about Yan Huss and the Hussite wars, and became -a more enthusiastic nationalist than ever before. I felt that Rieger’s -influence pulled me in one direction, and that Palacky encouraged me -to persist in the opposite direction which I had selected under the -influence of the spirit of Czech nationalism. - - * * * * * - -In my letters to my elder sisters, which they read to father and -mother, I described with much detail the beauties and wonders of -Prague, my receptions and talks with Rieger and Palacky, and elaborated -much the parallel between St. Sava and Yan Huss to which Palacky had -drawn my attention, and which I expected would please my mother; but -I never mentioned Rieger’s advice that I stick to books and leave the -nationalist propaganda of the boys alone. I never during my whole -year’s stay in Prague sent a report home on my school work, because I -never did more than just enough to prevent my dropping to the lower -grade. My mother and the protoyeray in Panchevo expected immeasurably -more. Hence, I never complained about the smallness of the allowance -which my parents could give me, and, therefore, they did not appeal to -my Panchevo friends for the additional help which they had promised. -I felt that I had no right to make such an appeal, because I did not -devote myself entirely to the work for which I was sent to Prague. - - * * * * * - -While debating with myself whether to follow Rieger’s advice and leave -nationalism in the hands of more experienced people and devote myself -to my lessons only, an event occurred which was the turning-point in my -life. I received a letter from my sister informing me that my father -had died suddenly after a very brief illness. She told me also that my -father had had a premonition that he would die soon and never see me -again when, a year before, he bade me good-by on the steamboat landing. -I understood then the meaning of the tears which on that day of parting -I had seen roll down his cheeks for the first time in my life. I -immediately informed my mother that I wanted to return to Idvor and -help her take care of my father’s land. But she would not listen, and -insisted that I stay in Prague, where I was seeing and learning so many -wonderful things. I knew quite well what a heavy burden my schooling -would be to her, and my school record did not entitle me to expect the -protoyeray to make his promise of assistance good. I decided to find -a way of relieving my mother of any further burdens so far as I was -concerned. - - * * * * * - -One day I saw on the last page of an illustrated paper an advertisement -of the Hamburg-American line, offering steerage transportation -from Hamburg to New York for twenty-eight florins. I thought of my -mellow-hearted American friends of the year before who bought a -first-class railroad-ticket for me from Vienna to Prague, and decided -on the spot to try my fortune in the land of Franklin and Lincoln as -soon as I could save up and otherwise scrape up money enough to carry -me from Prague to New York. My books, my watch, my clothes, including -the yellow sheepskin coat and the black sheepskin cap, were all sold -to make up the sum necessary for travelling expenses. I started out -with just one suit of clothes on my back and a few changes of linen, -and a red Turkish fez which nobody would buy. And why should anybody -going to New York bother about warm clothes? Was not New York much -farther south than Panchevo, and does not America suggest a hot climate -when one thinks of the pictures of naked Indians so often seen? These -thoughts consoled me when I parted with my sheepskin coat. At length I -came to Hamburg, ready to embark but with no money to buy a mattress -and a blanket for my bunk in the steerage. Several days later my ship, -the _Westphalia_, sailed--on the twelfth day of March, 1874. My mother -received several days later my letter, mailed in Hamburg, telling her -in most affectionate terms that, in my opinion, I had outgrown the -school, the teachers, and the educational methods of Prague, and was -about to depart for the land of Franklin and Lincoln, where the wisdom -of people was beyond anything that even St. Sava had ever known. I -assured her that with her blessing and God’s help I should certainly -succeed, and promised that I would soon return rich in rare knowledge -and in honors. The letter was dictated by the rosiest optimism that I -could invent. Several months later I found to my great delight that -my mother had accepted cheerfully this rosy view of my unexpected -enterprise. - - * * * * * - -[Illustration: THE VILLAGE CHURCH IN IDVOR] - -The ship sailed with a full complement of steerage passengers, mostly -Germans. As we glided along the River Elbe the emigrants were all -on deck, watching the land as it gradually vanished from our sight. -Presently the famous German emigrant song rang through the air, and -with a heavy heart I took in the words of its refrain: - - “Oh, how hard it would be to leave the homeland shores - If the hope did not live that soon we shall see them again. - Farewell, farewell, until we see you again.” - -I did not wait for the completion of the song, but turned in, and in -my bare bunk I sought to drown my sadness in a flood of tears. Idvor, -with its sunny fields, vineyards, and orchards; with its grazing herds -of cattle and flocks of sheep; with its beautiful church-spire and -the solemn ringing of church-bells; with its merry boys and girls -dancing to the tune of the Serbian bagpipes the Kolo on the village -green--Idvor, with all the familiar scenes that I had ever seen there, -appeared before my tearful eyes, and in the midst of them I saw my -mother listening to my sister reading slowly the letter which I had -sent to her from Hamburg. Every one of these scenes seemed to start a -new shower of tears, which finally cleared the oppressiveness of my -spiritual atmosphere. I thought that I could hear my mother say to my -sister: “God bless him for his affectionate letter. May the spirit of -St. Sava guide him in the land beyond the seas! I know that he will -make good his promises.” Sadness deserted me then and I felt strong -again. - - * * * * * - -He who has never crossed the stormy Atlantic during the month of -March in the crowded steerage of an immigrant ship does not know -what hardships are. I bless the stars that the immigration laws were -different then than they are now, otherwise I should not be among the -living. To stand the great hardships of a stormy sea when the rosy -picture of the promised land is before your mind’s eye is a severe -test for any boy’s nerve and physical stamina; but to face the same -hardships as a deported and penniless immigrant with no cheering -prospect in sight is too much for any person, unless that person is -entirely devoid of every finer sensibility. Many a night I spent on the -deck of that immigrant ship hugging the warm smoke-stack and adjusting -my position so as to avoid the force of the gale and the sharpness of -its icy chilliness. All I had was the light suit of clothes which I -carried on my back. Everything else I had converted into money with -which to cover my transportation expenses. There was nothing left -to pay for a blanket and mattress for my steerage bunk. I could not -rest there during the cold nights of March without much shivering and -unbearable discomfort. If it had not been for the warm smoke-stack I -should have died of cold. At first I had to fight for my place there -in the daytime, but when the immigrants understood that I had no warm -clothing they did not disturb me any longer. I often thought of my -yellow sheepskin coat and the black sheepskin cap, and understood -more clearly than ever my mother’s far-sightedness when she provided -that coat and cap for my long journeys. A blast of the everlasting -gales had carried away my hat, and a Turkish fez such as the Serbs of -Bosnia wear was the only head-gear I had. It was providential that I -had not succeeded in selling it in Prague. Most of my fellow emigrants -thought that I was a Turk and cared little about my discomforts. But, -nevertheless, I felt quite brave and strong in the daytime; at night, -however, when, standing alone alongside of the smoke-stack, I beheld -through the howling darkness the white rims of the mountain-high waves -speeding on like maddened dragons toward the tumbling ship, my heart -sank low. It was my implicit trust in God and in his regard for my -mother’s prayers which enabled me to overcome my fear and bravely face -the horrors of the angry seas. - - * * * * * - -On the fourteenth day, early in the morning, the flat coast-line of -Long Island hove in sight. Nobody in the motley crowd of excited -immigrants was more happy to see the promised land than I was. It was -a clear, mild, and sunny March morning, and as we approached New York -Harbor the warm sun-rays seemed to thaw out the chilliness which I had -accumulated in my body by continuous exposure to the wintry blasts -of the North Atlantic. I felt like a new person, and saw in every -new scene presented by the New World as the ship moved into it a new -promise that I should be welcome. Life and activity kept blossoming -out all along the ship’s course, and seemed to reach full bloom as we -entered New York Harbor. The scene which was then unfolded before my -eyes was most novel and bewildering. The first impressions of Budapest -and of Prague seemed like pale-faced images of the grand realities -which New York Harbor disclosed before my eager eyes. A countless -multitude of boats lined each shore of the vast river; all kinds of -craft ploughed hurriedly in every direction through the waters of the -bay; great masses of people crowded the numerous ferry-boats, and gave -me the impression that one crowd was just about as anxious to reach -one shore of the huge metropolis as the other was to reach the other -shore; they all must have had some important thing to do, I thought. -The city on each side of the shore seemed to throb with activity. I did -not distinguish between New York and Jersey City. Hundreds of other -spots like the one I beheld, I thought, must be scattered over the vast -territories of the United States, and in these seething pots of human -action there must be some one activity, I was certain, which needed me. -This gave me courage. The talk which I had listened to during two weeks -on the immigrant ship was rather discouraging, I thought. One immigrant -was bragging about his long experience as a cabinetmaker, and informed -his audience that cabinetmakers were in great demand in America; -another one was telling long tales about his skill as a mechanician; a -third one was spinning out long yarns about the fabulous agricultural -successes of his relatives out West, who had invited him to come there -and join them; a fourth confided to the gaping crowd that his brother, -who was anxiously waiting for him, had a most prosperous bank in some -rich mining-camp in Nevada where people never saw any money except -silver and gold and hardly ever a coin smaller than a dollar; a fifth -one, who had been in America before, told us in a rather top-lofty way -that no matter who you were or what you knew or what you had you would -be a greenhorn when you landed in the New World, and a greenhorn has -to serve his apprenticeship before he can establish his claim to any -recognition. He admitted, however, that immigrants with a previous -practical training, or strong pull through relatives and friends, had -a shorter apprenticeship. I had no practical training, and I had no -relatives nor friends nor even acquaintances in the New World. I had -nothing of any immediate value to offer to the land I was about to -enter. That thought had discouraged me as I listened to the talks of -the immigrants; but the activity which New York Harbor presented to my -eager eyes on that sunny March day was most encouraging. - -Presently the ship passed by Castle Garden, and I heard some one say: -“There is the Gate to America.” An hour or so later we all stood -at the gate. The immigrant ship, _Westphalia_, landed at Hoboken -and a tug took us to Castle Garden. We were carefully examined and -cross-examined, and when my turn came the examining officials shook -their heads and seemed to find me wanting. I confessed that I had only -five cents in my pocket and had no relatives here, and that I knew of -nobody in this country except Franklin, Lincoln, and Harriet Beecher -St owe, whose “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” I had read in a translation. One of -the officials, who had one leg only, and walked with a crutch, seemed -much impressed by this remark, and looking very kindly into my eyes -and with a merry twinkle in his eye he said in German: “You showed -good taste when you picked your American acquaintances.” I learned -later that he was a Swiss who had served in the Union army during the -Civil War. I confessed also to the examining officials that I had no -training in the arts and crafts, but that I was anxious to learn, and -that this desire had brought me to America. In answer to the question -why I had not stayed at home or in Prague to learn instead of wandering -across the sea with so little on my back and nothing in my pocket, I -said that the Hungarian and Austrian authorities had formed a strong -prejudice against me on account of my sympathies with people, and -particularly with my father, who objected to being cheated out of -their ancient rights and privileges which the emperor had guaranteed -to them for services which they had been rendering to him loyally -for nearly two hundred years. I spoke with feeling, and I felt that -I made an impression upon the examiners, who did not look to me like -officials such as I was accustomed to see in Austria-Hungary. They had -no gold and silver braid and no superior airs but looked very much like -ordinary civilian mortals. That gave me courage and confidence, and I -spoke frankly and fearlessly, believing firmly that I was addressing -human beings who had a heart which was not held in bondage by cast-iron -rules invented by their superiors in authority. The Swiss veteran who -walked on crutches, having lost one of his legs in the Civil War, was -particularly attentive while I was being cross-examined, and nodded -approvingly whenever I scored a point with my answers. He whispered -something to the other officials, and they finally informed me that -I could pass on, and I was conducted promptly to the Labor Bureau -of Castle Garden. My Swiss friend looked me up a little later and -informed me that the examiners had made an exception in my favor and -admitted me, and that I must look sharp and find a job as soon as -possible. - - * * * * * - -As I sat in the Labor Bureau waiting for somebody to come along and -pick me out as a worthy candidate for some job, I could not help -surveying those of my fellow immigrants who, like myself, sat there -waiting for a job. I really believed that they were in a class below -me, and yet they had had no trouble in being admitted. They had not -needed favors on the part of the officials in order to be admitted. -I had, and therefore, I inferred, they must have appeared to the -officials to be more desirable. It was true, I said, arguing with -myself, that they had a definite trade; they undoubtedly had some -money; and they certainly looked more prosperous than I did, judging -by their clothes. But why should the possession of a trade, of money, -or of clothes stand so much higher in America than it did in Idvor, -my native village? We had a blacksmith, a wheelwright, and a barber -in Idvor; they were our craftsmen; and we had a Greek storekeeper who -had a lot of money and wore expensive city-made clothes, but there -was not one respectable Serb peasant in Idvor, no matter how poor, -who did not think that he was superior to these people who had only -a transient existence in our historic village. The knowledge of our -traditions and our implicit belief in them made us feel superior -to people who wandered about like gypsies with no traditions, and -with nothing to anchor them to a definite place. A newcomer to our -village was closely scrutinized, and he was judged not so much by his -skill in a craft, nor by his money, nor by his clothes, but by his -personality, by the reputation of his family, and by the traditions of -the people to whom he belonged. The examiners at Castle Garden seemed -to attach no importance to these things, because they did not ask me -a single question concerning my family, the history of my village, -or the history of the military frontier and of the Serb race. It was -no wonder, said I, consoling myself, that I appeared to them less -desirable than many of the other immigrants who would never have been -allowed to settle in Idvor, and whose society on the immigrant ship had -interested me so little, and, in fact, had often been repulsive to me, -because I could not help considering many of them a sort of spiritual -muckers. My admission by a special favor of the examiners was a puzzle -and a disappointment to me, but it did not destroy the firmness of my -belief that I brought to America something which the examiners were -either unable or did not care to find out, but which, nevertheless, I -valued very highly, and that was: a knowledge of and a profound respect -and admiration for the best traditions of my race. My mother and the -illiterate peasants at the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor had taught -me that; no other lesson had ever made a deeper impression upon me. - - - - -II - -THE HARDSHIPS OF A GREENHORN - - -My first night under the Stars and Stripes was spent in Castle Garden. -It was a glorious night, I thought; no howling of the gales, no -crashing of the waves, and no tumbling motion of the world beneath my -feet, such as I had experienced on the immigrant ship. The feeling of -being on _terra firma_ sank deep into my consciousness and I slept the -sound sleep of a healthy youth, although my bed was a bare floor. The -very early morning saw me at my breakfast, enjoying a huge bowl of -hot coffee and a big chunk of bread with some butter, supplied by the -Castle Garden authorities at Uncle Sam’s expense. Then I started out, -eager to catch a glimpse of great New York, feeling, in the words of -the psalmist, “as a strong man ready to run a race.” An old lady sat -near the gate of Castle Garden offering cakes and candies for sale. -A piece of prune pie caught my eye, and no true Serb can resist the -allurements of prunes. It is a national sweetmeat. I bought it, paying -five cents for it, the only money I had, and then I made a bee-line -across Battery Park, at the same time attending to my pie. My first -bargain in America proved a failure. The prune pie was a deception; -it was a prune pie filled with prune pits, and I thought of the words -of my fellow passenger on the immigrant ship who had said: “No matter -who you are or what you know or what you have you will be a greenhorn -when you land in America.” The prune-pie transaction whispered into -my ear: “Michael, you are a greenhorn; this is the first experience -in your life as a greenhorn. Cheer up! Get ready to serve your -apprenticeship as a greenhorn before you can establish your claim to -any recognition,” repeating the words of my prophetic fellow passenger -who had served his apprenticeship in America. No prophet ever uttered a -truer word. - -The old Stevens House, a white building with green window-shutters, -stood at the corner of Broadway and Bowling Green. When I reached -this spot and saw the busy beehive called Broadway, with thousands -of telegraph-wires stretching across it like a cobweb between huge -buildings, I was overawed, and wondered what it meant. Neither -Budapest, nor Prague, nor Hamburg had looked anything like it. My -puzzled and panicky expression and the red fez on my head must have -attracted considerable attention, because suddenly I saw myself -surrounded by a small crowd of boys of all sizes, jeering and laughing -and pointing at my fez. They were newsboys and bootblacks, who appeared -to be anxious to have some fun at my expense. I was embarrassed and -much provoked, but controlled my Serbian temper. Presently one of the -bigger fellows walked up to me and knocked the fez off my head. I -punched him on the nose and then we clinched. My wrestling experiences -on the pasturelands of Idvor came to my rescue. The bully was down in a -jiffy, and his chums gave a loud cheer of ringing laughter. I thought -it was a signal for general attack, but they did not touch me nor -interfere in any way. They acted like impartial spectators, anxious to -see that the best man won. Suddenly I felt a powerful hand pulling me -up by the collar, and when I looked up I saw a big official with a club -in his hand and a fierce expression in his eye. He looked decidedly -unfriendly, but after listening to the appeals of the newsboys and -bootblacks who witnessed the fight he softened and handed me my fez. -The boys who a little while before had jeered and tried to guy me, -evidently appealed in my behalf when the policeman interfered. They -had actually become my friends. When I walked away toward Castle -Garden, with my red fez proudly cocked up on my head, the boys cheered. -I thought to myself that the unpleasant incident was worth my while, -because it taught me that I was in a country where even among the -street urchins there was a strong sentiment in favor of fair play even -to a Serbian greenhorn. America was different from Austria-Hungary. -I never forgot the lesson and never had a single reason to change my -opinion. - -A gentleman who had witnessed the fight joined me on my return trip to -Castle Garden, and when we reached the employment bureau he offered -me a job. When I learned that one of my daily duties would be to -milk a cow, I refused. According to Serb traditions, milking a cow -is decidedly a feminine job. Another gentleman, a Swiss foreman on a -Delaware farm, offered me another job, which was to drive a team of -mules and help in the work of hauling things to the field preparatory -for spring planting. I accepted gladly, feeling confident that I knew -all about driving animals, although I had never even seen a mule in -all my experiences in Idvor. We left for Philadelphia that forenoon -and caught there the early afternoon boat for Delaware City, where we -arrived late in the afternoon. - -As we passed through Philadelphia I asked the Swiss foreman whether -that was the place where a hundred years before famous Benjamin -Franklin flew his kite, and he answered that he had never heard of -the gentleman, and that I must have meant William Penn. “No,” said I, -“because I never heard of this gentleman.” “You have still to learn a -thing or two about American history,” said the Swiss foreman, with a -superior air. “Yes, indeed,” I said, “and I intend to do it as soon -as I have learned a thing or two about the English language”; and I -wondered whether the Swiss foreman who had never heard of Benjamin -Franklin and his kite had really learned a thing or two in American -history, although he had lived some fifteen years in the United States. - -There were quite a number of farmers on the Delaware boat, every one -of them wearing a long goatee but no mustache; such was the fashion -at that time. Every one of them had the brim of his slouch hat turned -down, covering his eyes completely. As they conversed they looked -like wooden images; they made no gestures and I could not catch the -expression of their hidden eyes; without these powerful aids to -the understanding of the spoken word I could not make out a single -syllable in their speech. The English language sounded to me like an -inarticulate mode of speech, just as inarticulate as the joints of -those imperturbable Delaware farmers. I wondered whether I should ever -succeed in learning a thing or two in this most peculiar tongue. I -thought of the peasants at the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor, and of -their winged words, each of which found its way straight into my soul. -There also appeared before my mental vision the image of Baba Batikin, -with fire in his eye and a vibratory movement of his hand accompanying -his stirring tales of Prince Marko. How different and how superior -those peasants of Idvor appeared to me when I compared them with the -farmers on that Delaware boat! “Impossible,” said I, “that a Serb -peasant should be so much superior to the American peasant!” Something -wrong with my judgment, thought I, and I charged it to my being a -greenhorn and unable to size up an American farmer. - -At the boat-landing in Delaware City a farm-wagon was awaiting us, and -we reached the farm at supper-time. The farm-buildings were fully a -mile from the town, standing all by themselves; there was no village -and there were no neighbors, and the place looked to me like a camp. -There was no village life among American farmers, I was told, and -I understood then why those farmers on the Delaware boat were so -devoid of all animation. The farm-hands were all young fellows, but -considerably older than myself, and when the foreman introduced me to -them, by my Christian name, I found that most of them spoke German with -a Swiss accent, the same which the foreman had who brought me from New -York. One of them asked me how long I had been in the country, and when -I told him that I was about twenty-four hours in the country, he smiled -and said that he thought so, evidently on account of the unmistakable -signs of a greenhorn which he saw all over me. - -The first impression of an American farm was dismal. In the messroom, -however, where supper was served, everything was neat and lovely, and -the supper looked to me like a holiday feast. I became more reconciled -to the American farm. The farm-hands ate much and spoke very little, -and when they finished they left the dining-room without any ceremony. -I was left alone, and moved my chair close to a warm stove and waited -for somebody to tell me what to do next. Presently two women came in -and proceeded to clear the supper-table; they spoke English and seemed -to pay no attention to me. They probably thought that I was homesick -and avoided disturbing me. Presently I saw a young girl, somewhat -younger than myself. She pretended to be helping the women, but I soon -discovered that she had another mission. Her appearance reminded me of -a young Vila, a Serbian fairy, who in the old Serbian ballads plays a -most wonderful part. No hero ever perished through misfortune who had -the good fortune to win the friendship of a Vila. Supernatural both in -intelligence and in physical skill, the Vilæ could always find a way -out of every difficulty. I felt certain that if there ever was a Vila -this young girl was one. Her luminous blue eyes, her finely chiselled -features, and her graceful movements made a strange impression upon me. -I imagined that she could hear the faintest sound, that she could see -in the darkest night, and that, like a real Vila, she could feel not -only the faintest breezes but even the thoughts of people near her. -She certainly felt my thoughts. Pointing to a table in a corner of the -dining-room, she directed my attention to writing-paper and ink, placed -there for the convenience of farm-hands. I understood her meaning, -although I did not understand her words. I spent the evening writing a -letter to my mother. This was my wish, and the Vila must have read it -in my face. - -One of the farm-hands, a Swiss, came in after a while in order to -remind me that it was bedtime and to inform me that early in the -morning he would wake me up and take me to the barn, where my job would -be assigned to me. He kept his word, and with lantern in hand he took -me long before sunrise to the barn and introduced me to two mules which -he put in my charge. I cleaned them and fed them while he watched and -directed; after breakfast he showed me how to harness and hitch them -up. I took my turn in the line of teams hauling manure to the fields. -He warned me not to apply myself too zealously to the work of loading -and unloading, until I had become gradually broken in, otherwise I -should be laid up stiff as a rod. The next day I was laid up, stiffer -than a rod. He was much provoked, and called me the worst “greenhorn” -that he ever saw. But, thanks to the skilled and tender care of the -ladies on the farm, I was at my job again two days later. My being a -greenhorn appealed to their sympathy; they seemed to have the same kind -of soul which I had first observed in my American friends who paid my -fare from Vienna to Prague. - -One of my mules gave me much trouble, and the more he worried me the -more amusement he seemed to furnish to the other farm-hands, rough -immigrants of foreign birth. He did not bite, nor did he kick, as -some of the mules did, but he protested violently against my putting -the bridle on his head. The other farm-hands had no advice to offer; -they seemed to enjoy my perplexity. I soon discovered that the -troublesome mule could not stand anybody touching his ears. That was -his ticklish spot. I finally got around it; I never took his bridle off -on working-days, but only removed the bit, so that he could eat. On -Sunday mornings, however, when I had all the time I wanted, I took his -bridle off, cleaned it, and put it on, and did not remove it again for -another week. The foreman and the superintendent discovered my trick -and approved of it, and so the farm-hands lost the amusement which they -had had at my expense every morning at the harnessing hour. I noticed -that they were impressed by my trick and did not address me by the name -of greenhorn quite so often. They were also surprised to hear me make -successful attempts to speak English. Nothing counts so much in the -immigrant’s bid for promotion to a grade above that of a greenhorn as -the knowledge of the English language. In these efforts I received a -most unexpected assistance, and for that I was much indebted to my red -fez. - -On every trip from the barnyard to the fields, my mules and I passed -by the superintendent’s quarters, and there behind the wall of neatly -piled-up cord-wood I observed every now and then the golden curls of my -American Vila. She cautiously watched there, just like a Serbian Vila -at the edge of a forest. My red fez perched up on a high seat behind -the mules obviously attracted and amused her. Whenever I caught her eye -I saluted in regular Balkan fashion, and it was a salute such as she -had never seen before in the State of Delaware. Her curiosity seemed to -grow from day to day, and so did mine. - -One evening I sat alone near the warm stove in the messroom and she -came in and said: “Good evening!” I answered by repeating her greeting, -but pronounced it badly. She corrected me, and, when I repeated her -greeting the second time, I did much better, and she applauded my -genuine effort. Then she proceeded to teach me English words for -everything in the dining-room, and before that first lesson was over I -knew some twenty English words and pronounced them to her satisfaction. -The next day I repeated these words aloud over and over again during -my trips to the fields, until I thought that even the mules knew them -by heart. At the second lesson on the following evening I scored a -high mark from my teacher and added twenty more words to my English -vocabulary. As time went on, my vocabulary increased at a rapid rate, -and my young teacher was most enthusiastic. She called me “smart,” -and I never forgot the word. One evening she brought in her mother, -who two weeks previously had taken care of me when I was laid up from -overzealous loading. At that time she could not make me understand a -single word she said. This time, however, I had no difficulty, and she -was greatly surprised and pleased. My first examination in English was -a complete success. - -At the end of the first month on the Delaware farm my confidence in the -use of the English language had grown strong. During the second month I -grew bold enough to join in lengthy conversations. The superintendent’s -wife invited me often to spend the evening with the family. My tales -of Idvor, Panchevo, Budapest, Prague, Hamburg, and the immigrant ship -interested them much, they said. My pronunciation and grammar amused -them even more than they were willing to show. They were too polite to -indulge in unrestrained laughter over my Serbian idioms. During these -conversations the Vila sat still and seemed to be all attention. She -was all eyes and ears, and I knew that she was making mental notes of -every mistake in my grammar and pronunciation. At the next lesson she -would correct every one of these mistakes, and then she watched at the -next family gathering to see whether I should repeat them. But I did -not; my highest ambition was to show myself worthy of the title “smart” -which she had given me. - -One evening I was relating to the superintendent’s family how I had -refused the first offer of a job at Castle Garden, because I did not -care to accept the daily duty of milking a cow, which, according to my -Serbian notions, was a purely feminine job. I admitted that Serbian and -American notions were entirely different in this particular respect, -because, although over a hundred cows were milked daily on the farm, -I never saw a woman in any one of the many barns, nor in the huge -creamery. I confessed also that both the Vila and her mother would -be entirely out of place not only in the cow-barns but even in the -scrupulously clean creamery, adding that if the Vila had been obliged -to attend to the cows and to the creamery, she would not have found -the time to teach me English, and, therefore, I preferred the American -custom. Vila’s mother was highly pleased with this remark and said: -“Michael, my boy, you are beginning to understand our American ways, -and the sooner you drop your Serbian notions the sooner you will become -an American.” - -She explained to me the position of the American woman as that of the -educator and spiritual guide of the coming generation, emphasizing the -fact that the vast majority of teachers in American primary schools -were women. This information astonished and pleased me, because I knew -that my mother was a better teacher than my schoolmaster, an old man -with a funny nasal twang. Her suggestion, however, that I should drop -my Serbian notions and become an American as soon as possible disturbed -me. But I said nothing; I was a greenhorn only and did not desire to -express an opinion which might clash with hers. I thought it strange, -however, that she took it for granted that I wished to become an -American. - -The next day was Sunday, and I walked to church, which was in Delaware -City. The singing of hymns did not impress me much, and the sermon -impressed me even less. Delaware City was much bigger than my native -Idvor, and yet the religious service in Idvor was more elaborate. There -was no choral singing in the church of Delaware City, and there were -no ceremonies with a lot of burning candles and the sweet perfume of -burning incense, and there was no ringing of harmonious church-bells. -I was disappointed, and wondered why Vila’s mother expected me to drop -my Serbian notions and embrace America’s ways, which, so far as public -worship was concerned, appeared to me as less attractive than the -Serbian ways. Vila’s family met me in front of the church and asked me -to ride home with them. A farm-hand riding in a fine carriage with his -employer struck me as extraordinary, and I wished to be excused, but -they insisted. No rich peasant in Idvor would have done that. In this -respect Delaware farmers with their American ways appealed to me more. -Another surprise was in store for me: Vila’s mother insisted that I -share with the family their Sunday dinner, just as I had shared with -them the divine service. I saw in it an effort on her part to show an -appreciation of my religious habit and to encourage it, thus proving -in practice what she preached to me about the spiritual influence of -the American woman. During the dinner I described the Sundays of Idvor, -dwelling particularly upon the custom among the Serbian boys and girls -of kolo dancing on the village green in front of the church on Sunday -afternoons. Vila approved of the custom enthusiastically, but her -mother thought that a walk through the peach-orchards, which were then -in full bloom, was at least as good. Vila and I walked together that -Sunday afternoon. My attendance at church gained for me this favor also. - -He who has never seen the Delaware peach-orchards of those days in -full bloom, when in the month of May the ground is a deep velvety -green, and when the Southern sky seen through the golden atmosphere -of a sunny May day reminds one of those mysterious landscapes which -form the background in some of Raphael’s Madonna pictures--he who has -never seen that glorious sight does not know the heavenly beauty of -this little earth. No painter would dare attempt to put on canvas the -cloth of flaming gold which on that balmy Sunday afternoon covered the -ripples of the sun-kissed Delaware River. Vila asked me whether I had -ever seen anything more beautiful in Idvor, and I said no, but added -that nothing is as lovely and as sweet as one’s native village. When I -informed her that some day I expected to return to it, enriched by my -experiences in America, she looked surprised and said: - -“Then you do not intend to become an American?” - -“No,” said I; and after some hesitation I added: “I ran away from the -military frontier because the rulers of the land wanted to transform me -into a Hungarian; I ran away from Prague because I objected to Austrian -Teutonism; I shall run away from Delaware City also if, as your good -mother suggested, I am expected to drop my Serbian notions and become -an American. My mother, my native village, my Serbian orthodox faith, -and my Serbian language and the people who speak it are my Serbian -notions, and one might as well expect me to give up the breath of my -life as to give up my Serbian notions.” - -“You misunderstood my mother, Michael,” said the Vila; “she only -referred to your notions about woman’s work, and you know that European -women are expected to do the hard work for which only men are strong -enough.” - -“Very true,” said I; “the strongest and ablest men in Europe spend -the best part of their lives on battle-fields, or training for the -battle-fields; this is particularly true of the Serbian people. This -forces our Serbian women to do some of the hard work which men should -do.” This gave me a fitting opportunity to say a few things in favor of -the spiritual influence of the Serbian women by describing the position -of the Serbian woman as she is represented in the Serbian ballads--of -Chuchuk Stana, the wife of Hayduk Velyko, who urged her hero husband -to sacrifice his life rather than surrender the eastern frontier of -Serbia, which, during the Serbian revolution, he was defending against -vastly superior Turkish forces; of the maid of Kossovo, who at the -risk of her life and liberty visited the battle-field of Kossovo in -order to administer the last spiritual aid to the fallen and dying -heroes; of Yevrosima, mother of Prince Marko, the national hero of the -Serbian race, whose counsel and advice were the only guiding star to -Marko throughout his stormy life. I told her also that I should not -be a witness to that heavenly scene on the banks of the Delaware that -Sunday afternoon if it had not been for my mother, who had urged me to -go into the world and learn new things, which I could not learn in my -native peasant village. Young Vila was much impressed by my Serbian -tales, and by my pleading in behalf of the Serbian women, and then she -asked me whether I had ever heard of Martha Washington, the wife of -George Washington, the national hero of America. I confessed complete -ignorance. Pointing to the golden ripples of the sun-kissed Delaware -River, she said that it did not always look as bright and peaceful, and -then described its appearance when in the middle of winter its surface -is covered with broken ice, which, tossed by the waves of the angry -river, makes a passage across it next to impossible. But in January, -1777, George Washington, the commander of the retreating American -armies, crossed it, and on the other side of the river, near Trenton, -surprised the advancing victorious British armies and defeated them, -turning American defeat into American victory. “Washington,” she -said, “just like Hayduk Velyko, was ready to sacrifice his life while -crossing the treacherous ice-fields of the angry Delaware in order -to strike a timely blow for the safety of his country.” And she was -inclined to believe, she said, that Martha Washington acted at that -critical moment just as Chuchuk Stana did. From that day on, Washington -was to me the Hayduk Velyko of America, and the name of the Delaware -River inspired me always with thoughts of deep veneration. Vila showed -me that America, like Serbia, was also a land of heroes. The rest -of that glorious Sunday afternoon was spent in Vila’s answering my -numerous questions concerning George Washington and the war of the -American Revolution. It was the most inspiring afternoon which I had -experienced in America, and I felt that, after all, there might be many -things in America which were just as great as those great things of -which the Serbian guslar sings in the national ballads of Serbia. Vila -had succeeded in welding the first link between my Serbian traditions -and the traditions of America. I apologized to her for misunderstanding -her mother’s suggestion that I become an American as soon as possible, -and confessed that I was much less anxious than I had thought I was a -few moments before to run away from the shores of the historic Delaware. - -After Vila discovered my lively interest in American history, she -continued her English lessons to me by telling me stories relating -to early American history, which I repeated to her. Jamestown, South -St. Mary, in southern Maryland, and Virginia figured big in these -tales. When I first heard of the _Mayflower_, a year or so later, and -of its landing at Plymouth Rock, I wondered why Vila never mentioned -that great historical event. She never mentioned Lincoln, and changed -conversation when I once called him the American Prince Marko. America -north of the Delaware River was very little in her mind, and even -Philadelphia was mentioned only on account of the Liberty Bell and the -Declaration of Independence. - -One evening, Vila’s mother asked me about my mother and her hopes for -my future. Remembering her remarks concerning the spiritual influence -of the American women upon the coming generation, I gave her a glowing -account of my mother, and wound up by saying that she did not expect -me to become an American farmer, and that I came to America to learn -what I could not learn in a peasant country like that of my native -village. She was much touched, and then in simple and solemn language -she revealed to me a new truth which I never forgot and which I found -confirmed by all my experiences in this great land, the truth, namely, -that this is a country of opportunities which are open equally to all; -that each individual must seek these opportunities and must be prepared -to make good use of them when he finds them. She commended me warmly -for making good use of all the opportunities which I had found on the -farm, and advised me strongly to go in search of new opportunities. -Vila agreed with her, and I prepared to leave the hospitable shores of -Delaware. - -I made my return trip to Philadelphia on the same boat which had -brought me to Delaware City. Things looked different from what they -had on my first trip. The farmers of Delaware, my fellow passengers on -the boat, did not look like wooden images, and their speech was not -inarticulate. I understood their language, and its meaning found a -sympathetic response in me. The trip reminded me much of the trip on -the Danube some eighteen months prior to that time. One of my fellow -passengers, a youngster of about my age, pointed out a place to me -which he called Trenton, and assured me that the boat was passing over -the spot where Washington crossed the Delaware. His geography was -faulty as I found out much later. But it was swallowed by a greenhorn -like me and it thrilled me, and I remembered then the first view of the -Cathedral of Karlovci, the seat of the Serbian Patriarch, which was -pointed out to me from the Danube boat by the theological students. I -felt the same thrill in each case, and I knew that America was getting -a hold upon my Serbian heart-strings. My appearance attracted no -attention, either on the boat or at Philadelphia after we landed. My -hat and clothes were American, but my heavy top-boots, so useful on the -farm, were somewhat too heavy for the warm June days in Philadelphia. - -The Swiss foreman had directed me to a Swiss acquaintance of his who -had a small hotel in Philadelphia. He was very eager to have me take -all my meals at the hotel, but my total capital of ten dollars made -me cautious; besides, my days from early morning till late at night -were spent in the heart of the city. No other human being ever saw so -much of Philadelphia during a stay of five days as I did, hunting for -a job, searching new opportunities, as Vila’s mother expressed it. -But I searched in vain. I gained new information about William Penn -and Benjamin Franklin and saw many buildings the history of which is -attached to these two great names, and I wondered why Benjamin Franklin -ever deserted Boston to search new opportunities in a place like -Philadelphia. But he did it, and succeeded. I was sure that neither -he nor any other human being could walk more or chase after a job -more diligently than I did, but then he was an American boy and he -had a trade, and I was a Serbian greenhorn who did not know anything -in particular, except how to drive a pair of mules. Besides, thought -I, Philadelphia might have lost its wealth of opportunities since -Franklin’s days. Such was my consolation while resting on a bench in -Fairmount Park, near the grounds which were being prepared for the -Centennial Exposition of 1876. I was lunching on a chunk of bread and -thinking what would happen when the last three dollars, the remnant of -my ten dollars which I brought from the Delaware farm, disappeared. A -husky farmer approached me and addressed me in English, asking whether -I wanted a job. “I do,” said I; “I have been chasing after one nearly -a week, and I can’t chase much longer, because I see that my weary -farm-boots are showing many signs of distress in their long daily -struggles against these hot Philadelphia pavements.” - -A day later found me in South St. Mary, in southern Maryland. I -expected great things here, having heard so much of its early history -from Vila. I was engaged to drive a pair of mules, dragging cultivators -through corn and tobacco fields. As far as skill and physical exertion -were concerned, the job was easy. But the climate was deadly, and -social life was even more so. The only interesting people whom I found -there were those buried in the old cemetery, some two hundred years -prior to that time, when South St. Mary was quite an important place, -and when the original settlers brought many fine things from England, -and even bricks with which they built their houses. The only diversion -I found was to read the legends on the tombstones in the old cemetery -near the village church. Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac River and -the many inlets of the bay bordered by luxuriant vegetation gave the -country a most picturesque appearance. The flourishing corn and tobacco -fields suggested prosperity, but the only people who stirred and showed -any activity were darkies, whose language I could not understand. I -felt that as far as human speech was concerned, I was in a valley of -silence, although the air was full of incessant sounds from all kinds -of insects and water-animals. Mosquitoes, gnats, and flies, and the -most oppressive, almost tropical, heat of the sun made work in the -fields unbearable. Many a time while driving the phlegmatic mules -through the broiling atmosphere of the tobacco-fields I thought of -the icy blasts of the North Atlantic which I had experienced on the -immigrant ship less than three months before, and I prayed that one -of those icy breaths of the polar regions might wander astray and -reach the flatlands of Chesapeake Bay. My prayer was not heard, and -I was happy to be still alive at the end of the month, and then I -took my wages of fifteen dollars and made a bee-line for the north. -I hoped that in New York I might be able to catch some of the cold -North Atlantic breezes and, after cooling off, pick up one of the many -opportunities in the metropolis, which on the day when the immigrant -ship landed me at Hoboken seemed to be seething with life and activity -and brimful of all kinds of opportunities. - -The Chesapeake boat landed me at Baltimore in the early hours of a -Sunday morning, and the sound of beautifully tuned church-bells greeted -me. I was told that Baltimore was a Catholic city and that the bells -belonged to a Catholic cathedral. They almost persuaded me to stay in -Baltimore and become a Roman Catholic, so sweet and soothing was their -effect upon my soul. It recalled to my memory the lovely harmony of the -church-bells of my native Idvor, and with that memory there appeared -in my imagination the vision of my strongly orthodox mother and of St. -Sava. This vision reminded me that I must say good-by to Roman Catholic -Baltimore. - -Forty-two years later I met Cardinal Gibbons in Baltimore during a -visit to that city, when Johns Hopkins University conferred upon me -the honorary LL.D. degree. I told him of the incident just referred -to; he was in a jocular mood and said: “Too bad that you did not -yield to the first effect of the Baltimore church-bells; you might be -to-day the archbishop of this diocese, and perhaps even a cardinal.” -“But, in that case, I should not have to-day the honorary LL.D. degree -of Johns Hopkins; I would not exchange that for any other honor,” -said I, returning jest for jest and watching the merry twinkle in -the cardinal’s fluorescent eyes. Some months later President Butler, -of Columbia University, and I happened to be descending in the same -lift at the Shoreham Hotel in Washington. Presently Cardinal Gibbons -entered, and President Butler introduced me to his Eminence, who, -recalling our former meeting in Baltimore, said, “I know Professor -Pupin, and it is a great honor, indeed, to ride in the same lift with -two eminent men who carry so many distinguished academic honors,” and, -as he looked at me with a genial smile which was brimful of Irish -humor, I knew that he wished to remind me in a good-natured way of my -high rating of an honorary Johns Hopkins degree in comparison with the -honors attached to the titles of archbishop and cardinal. - -The Pennsylvania train from Baltimore to New York delivered me to a -ferry-boat, which landed me on West Street, where I found a small hotel -kept by a German, a native of Friesland. He was a rugged old fellow who -loved his low-German dialect, which I did not understand. He spoke in -English to me, which, according to his son Christian, was much worse -than mine, although he had been in America some twenty years. Christian -was a yellow-haired and freckle-faced lad, of about my age, and we hit -it off very well, forming a cross-matched team. He would have given -anything, he said, to have my black hair and dark-red complexion. His -almost white eyebrows and eyelashes and mischievous gray eyes and -yellow freckles fascinated me. He was born in Hoboken and understood -his father’s low-German dialect, but whenever addressed in it, by his -father or by the Friesland sailors who frequented his father’s inn, he -always answered in English, or, as he called it, “United States.” - -Christian managed somehow to get away every now and then from the -little hotel and to accompany me on my many long errands in search -of a job. His familiarity with the town helped me much to master the -geography of New York, and to find out what’s what and who’s who in -the great metropolis. He seemed to be the only opportunity which New -York offered to me, and it was a great one. Every other opportunity -which appeared in newspaper advertisements had hundreds of applicants, -and they were lined up at the place of the promised opportunity, no -matter how early Christian and I reached the place. I was quite sure -that those opportunity-chasers lined up soon after the first issue of -the morning papers. I was told that the year before (in 1873) occurred -the Black Friday panic, and that New York had not yet recovered from -it. There were thousands of unemployed, although it was summer. One -morning Christian told me that he had found a fine job for me, and he -took me to a tug anchored quite near his father’s hotel. There were -quite a number of husky laborers on the tug, which took us to the -German docks in Hoboken. We were to stay there and help in the loading -of ships, replacing the longshoremen who were on strike. The job -assigned to me was to assist the sailors who were painting the ship and -things on the ship. We never left the docks until the strike was over, -which lasted about three weeks. At its termination I was paid and the -tug delivered me to the little hotel on West Street, where Christian -received me with open arms. I had thirty dollars in my pocket, and -Christian told me that I looked as rich as Commodore Vanderbilt, whom -Christian considered to be the richest man in New York. Christian took -me to Chatham Square to buy a new suit of clothes and other wearing -apparel, and I thought that the Jewish clothing dealers would cause -a riot fighting for my patronage. The next day when I appeared at -the breakfast-table in my new togs, Christian’s father could hardly -recognize me, but when he did he slapped me on the back and exclaimed: -“Who would ever think that you are a Serbian greenhorn?” “Nobody,” -said Christian, resenting his father’s remark, and then he added with -some hesitation: “But who would ever think that you are not a German -greenhorn?” Christian’s father rebuked him and assured me that he meant -no offense when he jokingly called me a Serbian greenhorn. - -Christian was anxious to have me replenish my fortune, which was -considerably reduced by my purchases in Chatham Square. He called my -attention that morning to a big German who was drinking beer at the -hotel bar after delivering several baskets filled with bread, rolls, -and pies, and said that he was a rich and stingy baker, whose wagon, -standing in front of the hotel, needed painting badly. I saw that -the lettering needed speedy restoration. I assured my chum that my -experience as assistant to the sailor painters on the Hoboken docks, -in addition to my natural skill in free-hand drawing, qualified me -for the job of restoring the lettering; Christian chuckled and made a -bee-line for the stingy German baker. I got the contract to restore the -lettering for five dollars and my meals, he to pay for the paints and -the brushes, which were to remain my property. Christian formulated -the contract and specified its terms very clearly; he was my business -manager, and he enjoyed it hugely. The next day I lunched with the -baker’s family, according to the terms of the contract, and after -luncheon, as soon as the wagon had returned from its daily route, I -started the work, interrupted by the supper only, and at nine o’clock -in the evening the job was finished to the full satisfaction of the -party of the first part. That evening found me richer by five dollars, -several paint pots and brushes, a huge home-made apple pie, and a new -and encouraging experience. Christian, for some reason unknown to me -at that time, seemed to look upon the whole affair as a joke, but -nevertheless he paid many compliments to my success as an artist. The -next day we left bright and early for his father’s house in Hoboken, -where in accordance with a plan conceived by Christian we were to spend -some time in painting and papering several of the rooms. Profiting by -the instructions which we received in sundry places, and after making -several unsuccessful attempts, we managed to master the art and to -finish the rooms to the full satisfaction of Christian’s father, who -confessed that no Hoboken expert could have done better. “This painting -is much better than that which you did on the baker’s wagon,” he said, -“because you added some dryer to the paint.” “Right you are,” said -Christian, “but I am to blame, because I purposely avoided telling -Michael to use some dryer on the baker’s wagon. I wanted to make two -jobs out of one.” “There will be several jobs, I am afraid,” said -Christian’s father, “because on the day after the lettering was done -the baker’s wagon was caught in a shower and all the fresh paint has -been washed off, and the wagon looks like a show.” Christian roared -with laughter, but seeing that I looked worried he whispered in my ear: -“Don’t worry, it serves him right; he wanted a twenty-dollar job done -for five dollars, because he took you for a greenhorn.” Christian made -a new arrangement for the relettering of the wagon and I earned another -five dollars, but no home-made apple pie. The German baker in Goerck -Street was neither as cordial nor as hospitable as he was before. - -Christian encouraged me in the belief that I was a painter and -paper-hanger, and I felt that I had a trade; that feeling gave me much -confidence. Christian’s mental attitude was a revelation to me. He -actually believed that a boy can learn anything quickly and well enough -to earn a living, if he will only try. He certainly could do anything, -I thought, as I watched him in his little carpenter-shop in Hoboken. -He also had a lathe and was quite expert in wood and metal turning, -although he never served apprenticeship, as they do in Europe, in order -to learn these things. When I told Christian that, according to my -information on the immigrant ship, I was doomed to serve in America my -apprenticeship as a greenhorn, he said that a European greenhorn must -have told me that, and added, in an offhand manner, that I would be a -greenhorn as long only as I thought that I was one. My description of -a European apprenticeship amused him much, and he called it worse than -the slavery which was abolished here by the Civil War only a few years -prior to that date. When I asked him where he got all those strange -notions, he told me that these notions were not strange but genuine -American notions, and that he first got them from his mother, who was -a native American. His father and his father’s German friends, he -admitted, had the same notions as that greenhorn on the immigrant ship. -Christian certainly looked like a Friesland German, but his thoughts, -his words, and his manner of doing things were entirely different from -anything I ever saw in Europe. He was my first glimpse of an American -boy, just as the Vila on the Delaware farm was my first vision of an -American girl, and her mother my first ideal of a noble American woman. -They were the first to raise that mysterious curtain which prevents -the foreign-born from seeing the soul of America, and when I caught a -glimpse of it I loved it. It reminded me of the soul of my good people -in Idvor, and I felt much more at home. The idea of being a greenhorn -lost many of its horrifying features. - -Christian left New York during that autumn to go into a shop in -Cleveland. Without him, West Street had no attractions for me. I -moved to the East Side of New York, so as to be near Cooper Union and -its hospitable library. I spent many hours in it after my days of -labor, or after my numerous unsuccessful daily trips in search of -employment. It was my spiritual refuge when things looked black and -hopeless. As winter approached, jobs grew alarmingly scarce, and my -money was rapidly approaching the zero level. My hall-room in Norfolk -Street was cheerless and cold, worse even than my little attic in -Prague. Neither the room nor its neighborhood attracted me in daytime; -I preferred to walk along the endless avenues. This exercise kept me -warm and gave me a chance to make frequent inquiries for a job at -painters’ and paper-hangers’ shops. When the prospects for work of -this kind appeared hopeless, I struck a new idea. Instead of walking -more or less aimlessly, in order to keep myself warm and familiarize -myself with the ways of the great city, I followed coal-carts, and -when they dropped the coal on the sidewalk I rang the bell and offered -my services to transfer the coal from sidewalk to cellar. I often got -the job, which sometimes was a stepping-stone to other less humble and -more remunerative employment. After placing the coal in the cellar and -getting my pay, I would often suggest to the owner that his cellar and -basement needed painting badly; most cellars and basements do. The -owner on being informed that I was a painter out of work, a victim of -the economic crisis, often yielded. The idea of a young and ambitious -painter being compelled to carry coal from sidewalk to cellar at fifty -cents a ton made a strong plea, stronger than any eloquence could make. -The scheme worked well; it did not lead to affluence, but my room-rent -was always paid on time, and I never starved. Often and often, however, -I had to keep my appetite in check. I always had enough to buy my bowl -of hot coffee and a brace of crullers for breakfast in a restaurant on -wheels, stationed near Cooper Union, where Third Avenue car-drivers -took their coffee on cold winter mornings. - -During periods of financial stringency my lunches were a bowl of bean -soup and a chunk of brown bread, which the Bowery Mission supplied -for five cents. It was a splendid meal on those cold winter days. But -the Bowery Mission supplied a prayer-meeting with red-hot speeches as -dessert; some of these addresses I really enjoyed; there were speakers, -however, who offended me, because they confessed that they were -reformed drunkards and godless men, and they assured their hearers, -victims of the economic crisis just like myself, that they would -prosper if they would only sign the pledge and vow to return to Jesus. -I neither drank nor had I ever deserted Jesus; the reformed drunkard’s -views of human life depressed me and drove me away from the Bowery -Mission and from the Bowery. - -Carrying coal from sidewalks to cellars and shovelling snow from -sidewalks during that memorable winter were healthful jobs and cheerful -enough, but not very remunerative; painting cellars and basements on -Lexington Avenue was more remunerative, but fearfully depressing. To -spend one’s time day after day in dark cellars and basements and pass -the night in a cheerless hall-room in Norfolk Street, surrounded by -neighbors who were mostly foreign-born of the most unattractive type, -was too much for a Serbian youth who knew the beautiful world as one -sees it from the pasture-lands of his native village and from the -banks of golden Delaware. The reading-room of the Cooper Union library -relieved somewhat my mental depression, although it was packed with -sad-looking victims of the economic crisis, who found their way from -the Bowery to the reading-room in order to keep warm. I longed to see -God’s world of the country again. - -The opportunity came, and about the middle of April of that year, 1875, -I was on a farm in Dayton, New Jersey. My employer’s family consisted -of his wife and an elderly daughter, and I was the only farm-hand on -the place. They were apparently pleased with my work, and the ladies -took much interest in my personal welfare. But the farmer, call -him Mr. Brown, took it into his head that a youth who had lived one -whole winter in Norfolk Street, New York, near the ungodly Bowery, -needed spiritual regeneration. He was a very pious Baptist, and I -soon discovered that in his everlasting professions of omissions and -commissions he was even worse than that reformed drunkard whose sermons -had driven me away from the Bowery Mission and its vigorous bean soup. -Every Sunday his family took me to church twice and made me sit between -the female members of the family. I felt that the congregation imagined -that Mr. Brown and his family were trying their best to convert a -godless foreign youth and make a good Baptist out of him. Mr. Brown -seemed to be in a great hurry about it, because every evening he made -me listen for an hour at least to his reading of the Bible, and before -we parted for the night he would offer a loud and fervent prayer that -the Lord might kindle his light in the souls of those who had been -wandering in darkness. I know now that he had in mind the words of St. -Luke, “To give light to them that sit in darkness,” but at that time I -fancied that he referred to my painting operations in the cellars and -basements of Lexington Avenue, and interpreted his prayers as having a -special reference to me. - -The joy of life which during the day I inhaled in the fresh fields of -the early spring was smothered in the evening by Mr. Brown’s views of -religion, which were views of a decrepit old man who thought of heaven -only because he had no terrestrial problems to solve. He did his best -to strip religion of every vestige of its poetic beauty, and of its -soul-stirring spiritual force, and to make it appear like a mummy of a -long-departed Egyptian corpse. A Serbian youth who looks to St. Sava, -the educator, and to the Serbian national ballads for an interpretation -of the Holy Scriptures, could not be expected to warm up for the -religion which farmer Brown preached. I thought of Vila and her mother -on the banks of the golden Delaware, and of the glorious opportunities -which they pointed out ahead of me, and I wondered whether farmer -Brown was one of these opportunities; if so, then there were some -opportunities in America from which I wished to run away. - -[Illustration: NASSAU HALL, PRINCETON UNIVERSITY] - -One Sunday evening, after the church service, farmer Brown introduced -me to some of his friends, informing them that I was a Serbian youth -who had not enjoyed all the opportunities of American religious -training, but that I was making wonderful progress, and that some day -I might even become an active member of their congregation. The vision -of my orthodox mother, of the little church in Idvor, of the Patriarch -in Karlovci, and of St. Sava, shot before my eyes like a flash, and -I vowed to furnish a speedy proof that farmer Brown was wrong. The -next day I was up long before sunrise, having spent a restless night -formulating a definite plan of deliverance from the intolerable boredom -inflicted upon me by a hopeless religious crank. The eastern sky was -like a veil of gold and it promised the arrival of a glorious April -day. The fields, the birds, the distant woods, and the friendly country -road all seemed to join in a melodious hymn of praise to the beauties -of the wanderer’s freedom. I bade good-by to the hospitable home of -farmer Brown and made a bee-line for the distant woods. There the merry -birds, the awakening buds on the blushing twigs, and the little wild -flowers of the early spring seemed to long for the appearance of the -glorious sun in the eastern sky. I did not, because I was anxious to -put as much distance as possible between farmer Brown and myself before -he knew that I had departed. When the sun was high in the heavens I -made a halt and rested at the edge of woods on the side of a hill. A -meadow was at my feet, and I, recalling the words of poet Nyegosh, -watched for “the bright-eyed dewdrops to glide along the sunbeams to -the heavens above.” The distant view as seen from the elevation of my -resting-place disclosed, near the horizon, the silhouette of a town -with towers and high roofs looking like roofs of churches. After some -three additional hours of wandering, I crossed a bridge over a canal -and found the distant town. There seemed to be one street only where -business was done; the rest of the town appeared to me like so many -beautiful convents. The tramp of many miles through woods and meadows -without any breakfast had made me ravenously hungry and somewhat tired. -The peaceful aspect of the monastic-looking town invited me to sit -down and rest and enjoy some food. I bought a shining loaf of bread -and, selecting a seat under an elm near a building which looked like -the residence of the Archbishop of Prague, I started my breakfast. -It consisted of bread only, and I enjoyed it as I had never enjoyed -breakfast before. Many boys, looking like students, passed by on -their way to the ecclesiastical-looking building; one of them watched -my appetite as if he envied it, and inquired whether I should like -some Italian cheese with my bread. He evidently thought that I was -an Italian, being misled by my ruddy cheeks and dark-brown hair. I -answered that Serbian cheese would suit me better. He laughed and said -that Serbia and Serbian cheese were unknown at Princeton. I answered -that some day perhaps Princeton might hear from Serbia. It is a curious -fact that, in 1914, I was the first man who was invited to Princeton to -give an address on the subject of the Austrian ultimatum to Serbia. The -late Moses Taylor Pyne was my host, and I pointed out to him the elm -in front of Nassau Hall where I had breakfasted some forty years prior -to that time. The students received my address very enthusiastically; -Dernburg addressed them two weeks later, and their heckling broke up -the meeting. - -After finishing the loaf, I basked in the warm rays of the mellow -April sun, and fell asleep and dreamed that in the building where the -students went there was a large assembly of people who had gathered -there for the purpose of conferring some academic honor upon me. When -I woke up, I thought of the letter which I had written to my mother -from Hamburg, a year before, promising that I would soon return rich -in learning and in distinguished honors. The dream reminded me that my -promise was carefully recorded in the mechanism which controlled my -consciousness. - -Princeton was unlike anything that I had ever seen up to that time. -I had read about Hilendar, the famous monastery on Mount Athos, on -the Ægean Sea, founded by St. Sava in the twelfth century. I had seen -pictures of its buildings, where monks lived the life of solitude and -study. Princeton, with its many monastic-looking buildings, I imagined -was such a place, where young men were given every opportunity to -study and become learned men so as to be able to devote their lives -effectively to such work as St. Sava did. As I walked slowly and -thoughtfully toward the railroad-station, a student met me and engaged -me in conversation. He was a little older than myself; kindness and -intelligence beamed from every feature of his handsome face. He knew a -great deal about Serbia, and even about the Serbs of Austria-Hungary, -and when I told him that I had come to America in search of knowledge, -he expressed the hope that he might some day see me enrolled as a -student in Princeton. A student at Princeton! With fellow students and -friends like this divinely handsome and gentle youth who accompanied -me to the station! Impossible! thought I, as I looked through the -car-window and saw the academic halls of Princeton gradually disappear -in the distance and realized at the same time that the train was -taking me back to the Bowery. Eight years later I read the letter -which I wrote to my mother describing Princeton, in which, in order -to encourage her, I had expressed a strong hope that some day I might -write to her and sign myself a student at Princeton. - -I may add here that my good friend Henry Fairfield Osborn, the -distinguished scientist, was a sophomore at Princeton during that year. -He might have looked just like that gentle youth who showed me the way -to the railroad-station. President Wilson entered Princeton in the -autumn of that year. - - - - -III - -THE END OF THE APPRENTICESHIP AS GREENHORN - - -The visions of Princeton persisted in my mind like after effects of -strong light upon the retina. That gentle youth’s suggestion that he -might some day see me enrolled as a student at Princeton kept ringing -in my ears, and sounded like mockery. A peasant boy from a Serb -village who a little over two years previously was wearing a peasant’s -sheepskin coat and cap to become a fellow student of those youths who -looked like young aristocrats seemed impossible. A European aristocrat -would never have suggested such a thing, and that puzzled me. I saw -an endless chain of difficult things between me and my enrolment -as a student at Princeton, the home for gentle American youth. -Social unpreparedness, I felt, was a much more serious difficulty -than unpreparedness in things which one can learn from books. This -difficulty could not be overcome by associating with people east of the -Bowery, and I was heading that way. The nearer the train approached New -York the less anxious I was to return to it. From Nassau Hall to the -Bowery was too abrupt a change, and from the Bowery to Nassau Hall the -change would have been even more abrupt. I compromised and looked up -Christian’s home on West Street. - -Christian was still in Cleveland, but his father received me with open -arms and promised to find me a job. In less than a week he found me one -in a famous cracker factory on Cortlandt Street. An acquaintance of his -with the name Eilers, a Frieslander and distant relative of a famous -German writer of that name, was employed there; he steered me during -my first experiences in the factory. A place was given me in a squad of -boys and girls who punched the firm’s name upon a particular kind of -biscuit. The job was easy from the point of view of physical strength, -but it required much manual dexterity. In spite of my ambition to -advance to a high place in the squad I progressed very slowly. I soon -discovered that in manual dexterity the American boys and girls stood -very high; my hands moved fairly rapidly after some practice, but -theirs vibrated. I made up my mind that America was not a field in -which I should gather many laurels by efforts requiring much manual -dexterity. That idea had occurred to me before, when I first observed -Christian handling his lathe. One day I was at the delivery desk of the -Cooper Union Library, showing my library check to a youth behind the -desk who countersigned it before a book was delivered to me. I noticed -that he wrote rapidly, using sometimes his right hand and sometimes his -left with equal ease and with much skill. “How can I ever compete with -American boys,” said I, “when they can write with either hand better -than I can write with my right hand!” - -There never was a doubt in my mind that American adaptability which -I observed on every occasion was in a great measure due to manual -training which young people used to get here. Christian’s suggestion, -mentioned above, that “a boy can learn anything quickly and well -enough to earn a living if he will only try,” I saw in a new light, -when I watched the work of those boys and girls in the factory. Yes, -American boys can, but not European, thought I. Lack of early manual -training was a handicap which I felt on every step during my early -progress in America. My whole experience confirmed me in the belief -that manual training of the youth gives them a discipline which -school-books alone can never give. I discovered later that three of -the greatest characters in American history, Franklin, Jefferson, and -Lincoln, excelled in practical arts requiring dexterity, and that the -constructive genius of the American nation can, in part, be traced to -the discipline which one gets from early manual training. - -[Illustration: _Reproduced by permission of Cooper Union_ - - AN EARLY VIEW OF COOPER UNION] - -The great opportunities which, according to my good friends on the -Delaware farm, awaited me in this country were certainly not in the -direction of arts requiring great manual dexterity. The country of -baseball offered, I thought, very few opportunities in this direction -to a foreign-born boy. I was convinced of that every time I made a -comparison between myself and the other boys who were doing the same -manual work in the factory that I did. They were my superiors. In one -thing, however, I thought I was their superior. They did not know -much about the latest things described in the _Scientific American_, -nor in the scientific supplements of the Sunday _Sun_, which I read -assiduously with the aid of a pocket dictionary. The educational -opportunities in the factory also escaped them. Jim, the boiler-room -engineer and fireman of the factory, became interested in my scientific -reading and encouraged me by paying several compliments to my interest -in these things. He once suggested that some day, perhaps, I might -become his scientific assistant in the boiler-room, if I did not mind -shovelling coal and attending to the busy fires. He was joking, but I -took him seriously. Every morning before the factory started I was with -Jim, who was getting the steam up and preparing to blow the whistle -and start the wheels going. I volunteered to assist him “shovelling -coal and attending to the busy fires,” and after a time I understood -the manipulations in the boiler-room quite well, according to Jim. -The steam-engine excited my liveliest interest. It was the first -opportunity that I had ever had to study at close range the operations -of a steam-engine, and I made the most of it, thanks to Jim’s patient -interest in my thirst for new information. He was my first professor in -engineering. - -One exceptionally hot afternoon during that summer found Jim prostrated -by heat and I volunteered to run the boiler-room until he got well. -I did it during the rest of that afternoon, much to the surprise of -everybody, but was not allowed to continue, because a fireman’s license -was required for that. When Jim returned I urged him to help me get -a license, but he answered that an intelligent boy, eager to learn, -should not cross the Atlantic for the purpose of becoming a fireman. -“You must aim higher, my lad,” said Jim, and he added that if I -continued to make good use of my pocket dictionary and of my scientific -reading I should soon outgrow the opportunities offered by the New -England Cracker Factory in Cortlandt Street. He never missed a chance -to encourage me and to promise new successes for new efforts. In that -respect he reminded me much of my mother. - -Jim was a humble fireman and boiler-room engineer; his early education -was scanty, so that he was not much on books; but he stood in awe in -the presence of books. Referring to my habit of carrying a pocket -dictionary in my hip pocket and looking up in it the meaning and the -pronunciation of every word which was new to me, he would exclaim, -jokingly, “Look in the book,” whenever some obscure points arose in our -boiler-room discussions. His admiration for books was much increased -when I related to him the story of James Watt and his experiments with -the steam-engine, a story which I had dug out in an old encyclopædia in -the Cooper Union Library. When I told him that James Watt had perfected -his steam-engine and thus started the development of the modern -steam-engine several years before the Declaration of Independence, -he dropped a remark which I never forgot. He said: “The English made -us write the Declaration of Independence, and they also gave us the -steam-engine with which we made our independence good.” Jim was not -much on learning but he was brimful of native practical philosophy. - -Jim had a relative attending classes at Cooper Union and encouraged me -to join several of its evening classes, which I did. I reported to him -regularly the new things which I learned there. This practice benefited -me even more than it did Jim, because in trying to explain to him the -laws of heat phenomena, which were explained to me in the evening -lectures at Cooper Union, I got a very much better hold of them. The -first ideas of sound and light I caught on the pasture-lands of my -native village; the first ideas of the phenomena of heat I caught in -the boiler-room in Cortlandt Street and at Cooper Union lectures. These -lectures, supplemented by Jim’s boiler-room demonstrations, proved -much more effective than the instruction which I had received from my -teacher Kos, in Panchevo. Kos was a Slovene, a native of that beautiful -valley in Carniola, in the very bosom of the Dolomites; it is nearer -to being an ideal dreamland than any other spot in Europe. To Kos, as -to every true Slav, and particularly to the Slovenes of Carniola, the -poetical side of physical phenomena appealed most strongly. Hence his -patient listening to my enthusiastic professions of the belief that -sound and light were different forms of the language of God. But as I -watched the busy flames under Jim’s boilers, and understood how they -were sustaining the strenuous efforts of steam to supply every hustling -wheel in the factory with driving power, I understood for the first -time that there is also a prose in physics not a bit less impressive -than its poetry. It is this prose which interested Jim, the fireman, -just as it did the Cooper Union lecturer. Their chief concern was what -heat can do and not what it is. My Slavonic craving for knowing what -heat is was soon satisfied by reading a poem in prose concerning the -nature of heat. But of that later. - -During my very first visits to the Cooper Union Library I saw a great -painting hung up in the northwest corner of its large reading-room. -It was called “Men of Progress,” and represented a group of very -learned-looking men. I admired the painting, but took no pains to -find out its meaning. One day, while reading in the Cooper Union -Library, I saw quite near me an old gentleman standing and carefully -scrutinizing what was going on. I imagined, at first, that he had -stepped out of that painting. I looked again and found that the figure -in the painting which I fancied had walked out was still there and -that the old gentleman near me was undoubtedly the original from -which the artist had painted that figure. The ambidextrous youth -behind the library-desk told me afterward that the old gentleman was -Peter Cooper, the founder of Cooper Union, and that he was one of the -group of famous men represented in the great painting. He looked as I -imagined the Patriarch of Karlovci must have looked. He was a striking -resemblance to St. Sava, the Educator, as he is represented on an ikon -in our church in Idvor. The same snowy locks and rosy complexion of -saintly purity, and the same benevolent look from two luminous blue -eyes. Peter Cooper was then eighty-five years of age, but he looked -as lively as if he were going to live another eighty-five years. His -personality as revealed by his appearance inspired me with awe, and I -read everything I could lay my hands on concerning his life; then I -read about the lives of the other great men who were associated with -Peter Cooper in that historical painting. Some of these men were: -Morse, the first promoter of the electric telegraph; Joseph Henry, -the great physicist, head of the Smithsonian Institution, and founder -of scientific bureaus in Washington; McCormick, the inventor of the -reaper; Howe, the inventor of the sewing-machine; Ericsson, the -engineer of the _Monitor_, and so forth. My study of their lives was a -timely preparation for my visit to Philadelphia, to see the Centennial -Exposition, the preparatory work for which I had seen two years prior -to that time, when, returning from the Delaware farm, I stopped at -Philadelphia to search for opportunities. - -[Illustration: _From an engraving by John Sartain after a painting by -J. Schussele, reproduced by the courtesy of Cooper Union_ - - Dr. Morton Colt Saxton - Bogardus - McCormick - - Peter Cooper Professor Henry Ericsson - Goodyear Dr. Mott - Mott Sickles - - Bigelow - Burden Jennings - Morse Hoe Blanchard Howe - - MEN OF PROGRESS--AMERICAN INVENTORS] - - -The work of those great captains of industry forming the group in the -great painting, “Men of Progress,” was in evidence in every nook and -corner of the Centennial Exposition. This great show impressed me as -a splendid glorification of all kinds of wonderful mechanisms, driven -by steam and animal power, which helped to develop the great resources -of the United States. All scientific efforts exhibited there concerned -themselves with the question of what things can do, rather than what -they are. The show was also a glorification of the great men who first -formulated, clearly stated, and fought for the ideals of the United -States. I saw that fact proclaimed in many of the historical features -of the exposition, and I did not fail to understand clearly that the -show took place in Philadelphia because the Liberty Bell and the -Declaration of Independence were first heard in Philadelphia. When I -left Philadelphia and its show I carried away in my head a good bit of -American history. The Americanization process which was going on within -me was very much speeded up by what I saw at the Centennial Exposition. - -On my return to New York I told Jim, the fireman, that he was -right when he said: “The English made us write the Declaration of -Independence, and they also gave us the steam-engine with which we -made our independence good.” But, instructed by my study of the lives -of men who were represented in the painting “Men of Progress,” and -by what I learned at the Philadelphia exposition of these men and of -the leaders of the American Revolution, I suggested to Jim that the -steam-engine without great men behind it would have been of little -avail. “Yes,” said Jim, “the Declaration of Independence without men of -character and brains behind it would also have been of little avail; -and the great aims of the Civil War without men like Lincoln and Grant -behind them would have ended in a foolish fizzle. This country, my -lad,” exclaimed Jim with much warmth, “is a monument to the lives of -the men of brains and character and action who made it.” Jim threw out -this chunk of wisdom with the same ease and in the same offhand manner -which he displayed when he threw a few shovelfuls of coal upon the -busy fires under his boilers. To him it was an obvious truth; to a lad -like myself, who was accustomed to look upon countries as monuments to -kings and princes and their victorious armies, it was a revelation; and -I said so. This brought from Jim another epigrammatic remark to the -effect that my trip to America would teach me nothing if it did not -teach me first to squeeze out of my mind all foolish European notions -and make room for new ideas which I might pick up here and there in -this new world. Jim’s sayings were always short and to the point and -their record in my mind never faded. - -Jim was very popular with everybody in the factory, and the fact that -he thought well of me improved my standing much. A Mr. Paul, the -youngest and most active member of the New England Cracker Factory in -Cortlandt Street, paid frequent visits to the boiler-room. I had an -idea that Jim’s views of things interested him just as much as the -operations of the boiler-room. One morning he made a very early visit -before the steam-whistle had blown and the steam-engine had started on -its daily routine, and he found me in the boiler-room, a busy volunteer -fireman. Jim introduced me to him in a jocular way as a student who -found his way from Princeton to Cortlandt Street, where in daytime I -was rapidly learning every trick of the biscuit industry while in the -evening I was absorbing all the wisdom of Cooper Union. A few days -later Mr. Paul informed me that my fame as a painter of baker-wagons -and of basements on Lexington Avenue, and also my record as a student -in mechanical drawing in the evening classes of Cooper Union, had -reached the board of directors of the New England Cracker Factory, and -that they had resolved to offer me a new job. I was advanced to the -position of assistant to the shipping clerk. It meant not only more pay -but also social advancement. I was no longer a workman in the factory, -who worked for wages; I was a clerk who received a salary. I felt as -people in England probably feel when peerage is conferred upon them. -My fellow workers in the factory, including Eilers, who first got me -the job, showed no envy. They agreed with Jim, who told them that I -was “smart.” Jim used the same word which my Vila on the banks of the -Delaware had used whenever I made a good recitation in English, and I -saw in it a good omen. Jim and Vila and Christian of West Street were -my authorities, who expressed what I considered a competent opinion -upon my apprenticeship as greenhorn, and that opinion was favorable. I -felt assured that the apprenticeship was soon coming to an end. - -My duties as assistant to the shipping clerk were to superintend the -packing of biscuits, to help address with brush and paint the boxes -in which they were packed, and to see to it that they were shipped on -time. A squad of some thirty girls did the packing and they seemed at -first inclined to file objections whenever I found fault with their -packing. They seemed to resent being bossed by an immigrant youth whose -foreign accent would “stop a train,” as they sometimes expressed it. I -found out from Jim that the principal object of their resentment was to -make me angry, because when my Serbian temper was up my accent became -most atrocious and that furnished them a most hilarious amusement. I -soon became convinced that my success as assistant to the shipping -clerk demanded a perfect control of my temper and a speedy improvement -of my accent, each of them a most difficult task. - -My efforts to control my temper were frequently put to severe tests. -Now and then a biscuit, well aimed, would hit me on the head, and my -Serbian blood would rush to my cheeks and I would look daggers at the -supposed offender. “Look at the bashibozouk,” one of the girls would -sing out on these occasions, and another would add: “Did you ever see -such a Bulgarian atrocity?” These words were in everybody’s mouth at -that time and they referred to the incidents of the Balkan War of -1876-1878, which Serbia, Montenegro, and Russia were waging against the -Turks. A third girl would stick her tongue out and make funny faces -at me in response to my savage glare. She evidently tried to make me -laugh, and I did laugh. Then a fourth girl would sing out: “Oh, look at -the darling now; I just love him when he smiles.” Then they all would -sing: - - “Smile, Michael, smile, - I love your sunny style.” - -I did smile, and every day I smiled more and more, after I had -discovered that the girls did not really dislike me, but just loved to -tease me whenever I showed any signs of a European greenhorn. I dropped -the airs put on by European superiors in authority and gradually the -girls became friendly and began to call me by my first name instead -of mockingly addressing me as “Mister” as they addressed the old -shipping clerk. “You are getting on swimmingly, my lad,” said Jim one -day, and he added something like this: “The girls are calling you -Michael, just as they call me Jim. We are popular, my boy, but don’t -let this popularity mislead you into foolish notions. Just watch me; I -have enjoyed this popularity for twenty years, and here I am still a -bachelor, and an old bachelor at that. You have controlled your temper -well, but how about controlling your heart, my lad?” Jim grinned and -winked and placed his index finger in front of his forehead, as if to -indicate that many a wise experience is stored in the practical head -of a canny old fireman. I understood his meaning, but did I heed its -warning? I knew that it contained a warning, and I suspected strongly -that Jim had discovered one of my deepest secrets. - -There was one girl among the thirty biscuit-packers who, in my opinion, -never made a mistake in packing. I never took pains to inspect her -work, and why should I when I was sure of her perfection? But I watched -her and feasted my eyes upon her whenever I had spare time and was sure -that nobody was observing me. She became conscious of it and every now -and then she would suddenly look up and catch my admiring but cautious -gaze. A bashful blush would give me away in spite of my efforts to -hide my thoughts and feelings. She guessed them and she smiled as if -greatly pleased and much amused, but she cleverly avoided giving me an -opportunity to make a confession. I might have done it in spite of my -extreme bashfulness. My note-books were full of her pictures, which I -drew and signed under them her name, Jane Macnamara. Perhaps Jim had -seen these pictures among my many sketches of the boiler-room and its -contents, and hence his warning to me. - -One Monday morning Jane did not appear at her usual place in the -packing-room; her friend, another packing girl, told me that Jane had -been married on the previous Saturday. I tried my best to appear as if -I received the news with indifference, but failed. The girls observed -a change; I neither smiled nor did I frown, but I thought a lot, and -the girls seemed to take quite an interest in my thoughtfulness, but -studiously avoided annoying me. Only now and then one of the girls -would whisper to me: “Penny for your thoughts, Michael.” Jim, I was -sure, also observed the change, but said nothing, as if he had observed -nothing. One day he introduced me to an acquaintance of his whom he -called Fred, who looked like a middle-aged man. He had wonderful -deep furrows in his face, and his hands were large and very bony and -looked as if the daily toil had rubbed off all the superfluous flesh -and fat from them. Jim told me that Fred was far from middle age, but -barely over thirty, and that some twelve years before he had plans and -ambitions just as big as mine, backed by at least as much brains as he -thought I had. Fred’s friends expected big things from him, said Jim, -but suddenly Fred lost his heart and married and raised a big family -of children somewhere in Jersey City. “To-day,” said Jim, “Fred is -mentally just where he was twelve years ago, and if he did not have -the contract of making the wooden packing-boxes for this factory he -would look even older than he is looking now,” and then he added, in -his usual offhand manner by way of illustration, that corn-stalks -cease to grow as soon as the ears of corn appear and all the sap of -the corn-stalk is served to the ears. Referring to Fred’s numerous -children, Jim finished his picture by saying that Fred looked like a -withering corn-stalk with many small ears of corn on it, and that he -hoped that the withering corn-stalk would hold out until the numerous -ears of corn had ripened. He admitted, however, that he himself was a -withering corn-stalk with no ears of corn at all; that his life was the -other extreme from Fred’s, and that neither he nor Fred had in their -younger days studied and applied in practice the controlling regulators -of life. Jim’s sermons on self-control always hit the mark; and when, -referring to his advice to me to control my temper, my heart, and my -speech, I suggested that according to him life was a series of all -kinds of controls difficult to manage, he answered that nothing is -difficult when it becomes a habit. “Just examine my boiler-room,” he -said, “and you will find that everything is controlled. The centrifugal -governor controls the speed of the engine; the safety-valve limits -the pressure of steam; every fire has a regulator of its air draft, -and every oven has a temperature indicator. I know them all and I -watch their operations without knowing that I am doing it. Practice -makes perfect, my lad, and perfection knows no difficulties even in a -boiler-room as full of all kinds of tricks as human life is.” Jim’s -sermons were always short and far ahead of anything I had ever heard -in the churches in Delaware City, or in Dayton, New Jersey, or in the -Bowery Mission, or in any other church which up to that time I had -visited in this country; and, moreover, they were not accompanied -by congregational singing, which bored me. I understood why so many -blacksmiths and other people of small learning made a great success as -preachers in this country, whereas in my native village the priest, who -prided himself upon his learning, was obliged to read those sermons -only which were sent to him by the bishop of the diocese. I suggested -to Jim in a jocular way to quit the boiler-room and become a preacher, -and he answered that the boys and girls of the New England Cracker -Factory in Cortlandt Street furnished a sufficiently large field for -his religious and educational mission. Jim’s assistance helped me much -to let the dream about Jane fade away gradually and make room in my -imagination for the dreams which I first saw at Princeton under that -elm-tree in front of Nassau Hall. - -The factory in Cortlandt Street was in many respects a college in which -Jim was the chaplain; and it had a professor who should be mentioned -here. It also had a dormitory; several of the young fellows employed in -the factory lived on the top floor of the building. I was one of them, -and I did not change my quarters when I was advanced to the position -of assistant to the shipping clerk. Two great attractions kept me -there. One was that the other fellows were out every evening visiting -theatres and music-halls, so that I had the whole loft, and, in fact, -the whole factory all to myself and to a chum of mine, who was much -older than I in years but not in his position in the factory. His name -was Bilharz, and he was the second attraction. He was the opposite to -Jim and to every human being I had ever met. He knew nothing of nor did -he care for the concrete or practical things of life, but always lived -in dreams about things which happened centuries ago. He knew Latin and -Greek and all kinds of literatures, but never made any attempts to make -any use of his knowledge. Factory work of the humblest kind was good -enough for him, and I believed that he would have been satisfied to -work for his board only, if pay had been refused him. He informed me -once by an accidental slip of the tongue that he had studied theology -at the University of Freiburg, in southern Germany, and would have -become a priest if an unfortunate love-affair had not put an end to -his ecclesiastical aspirations. He had no other aims when he came to -America, he said, than to work for a modest living and to lead a life -of profound obscurity, until the Lord called him away from this valley -of tears, as he expressed it. He used a German expression and called -the earth a “Thraenenthal.” Although a German he spoke English well, -being a finished scholar and having lived in America for a number -of years, and having a memory for sound which impressed me as most -remarkable. He sang like a nightingale, but only on evenings when we -were all alone. Ecclesiastical music was his favorite, and during many -an evening the strains of “Gloria in Excelsis Deo,” “Ave Maria,” and -“I Know That My Redeemer Liveth” rang forth from the spacious lofts of -the New England Cracker Factory and lost themselves in the silence -of night among the deserted buildings of Cortlandt Street, which were -alive in daytime only. I never tired listening to his recitations -of Latin and Greek poetry, although I did not understand it, and of -selected passages from Shakespeare and Goethe, which I did understand. -He loved the art of articulate speech and of melody, and he thought of -things only that happened three thousand years ago when Homer sang and -the Olympian gods guided the destinies of men, but he cared for nothing -else. The steam-engine and every other kind of mechanism were to him a -deadly prose which, in his opinion, Satan had invented for the purpose -of leading astray the spirit of man. “They are the weapons by which -people like you are keeping in slavery people like me,” he said once, -jokingly, referring to my interest in the boiler-room operations and to -my admiration of the great captains of industry whose lives I studied -and whose work I had seen and admired at the Philadelphia exposition. -I sometimes suspected that he felt alarmed by what he considered my -worship of false gods, and that this impelled him to do everything he -could for my redemption from heathenism. My admiration for his learning -was great, but my sympathy for his misfortunes was even greater. His -hands were once caught in a machine and most of his fingers had become -stiff and crooked so that they looked like the talons of a falcon. His -sharp features, a crooked nose and protruding eyes, supported this -suggestion of a falcon, but his awkward, flat-footed walk suggested a -falcon with broken wings; to say nothing of his other misfortunes which -made him in spirit also a falcon with broken wings. - -I felt that he knew a great deal more about the Jane incident than he -cared to disclose to me. One day I referred to her as the Minnehaha -of Cortlandt Street. “Minnehaha, laughing water,” exclaimed Bilharz: -“where did you ever get that, you boiler-room bug?” and he laughed -as if he had never heard a funnier thing in his life. “From Jim, the -boiler-room hermit, to Longfellow, one of the greatest of American -poets, is a tremendous jump, a _salto mortale_, as they call it in a -circus,” said Bilharz; and then, growing more serious and thoughtful, -he added something like this: “It is really wonderful what the eyes -of a woman can do! They are just like the stars in the heavens, -encouraging us poor mortals to aim at celestial heights. But many a -sky-rocket seemed to be sailing for the stars and suddenly it found -itself buried in mud. I am one of these sky-rockets,” said Bilharz; -“you are not, thanks to the timely intervention of a kindly divinity.” -He meant Jim. Then, continuing in his usual dramatic manner, he recited -in Latin an ode of Horace, in which the poet speaks of a youth trusting -to the beaming countenance of his lady-love as a mariner trusting to -the sunlit ripples of a calm sea who is suddenly upset by a treacherous -squall and, being rescued, gratefully offers his wet garments in -sacrifice to Neptune, the god of the sea. After translating the ode and -explaining its meaning to me he urged me to hang my best clothes in the -boiler-room as a sacrifice to Jim, the divinity which had rescued me -from the treacherous waves of “Minnehaha, laughing water.” “You are the -luckiest of mortals, my boy,” said Bilharz to me; “some day you will -provoke the envy of the gods and then look out for stern Nemesis!” I -did not understand the full meaning of these classical allusions, but -he assured me that some day I should. I told Bilharz that my luck, of -which he spoke so often, was mostly due to my being so near to a man of -his learning, and that I thought he ought to be a professor in Nassau -Hall at Princeton. He declined the honor, but offered to prepare me for -it, and I accepted. - -Bilharz was very moody and for days and days he had nothing to say to -anybody, not even to me! Nobody else cared, because nobody understood -him, but I did care. When he discovered that I sincerely admired his -learning and was interested in his puzzling personality he became -more communicative, sometimes almost human. His English accent was -excellent, and I asked his opinion about my accent and he assured me -with childlike frankness that it was rotten, but that it could be -fixed up if I submitted to a course of training prescribed for me by -my Vila on the Delaware farm. “I could not be your Vila, deformed as -I am,” said he, referring to his crippled fingers and to his awkward -walk, “but I will gladly be your satyr and teach you how to imitate -not only the sounds of human language but also, if you wish it, the -melodies of birds and the chirping of bugs. The satyrs are great in -that.” I knew that he could, because many an evening while I was on -the dormitory loft of the factory reading the Mayflower Compact, the -Declaration of Independence, the American Constitution, Patrick Henry’s -and Daniel Webster’s speeches, and Lincoln’s speech at Gettysburg, -Bilharz, in another part of the building, would be imitating sounds -of all kinds of birds and bugs, after he had grown tired reciting -Greek and Latin poetry and singing ecclesiastical songs. That was -his only amusement, and he enjoyed it when he was sure that nobody -was listening; he made an exception in my case. We finally made the -start in what he called my preparation for Nassau Hall. In the course -of less than a month I finished reciting to Bilharz the Declaration -of Independence, the American Constitution, and Lincoln’s speech at -Gettysburg, submitting to many corrections and making many efforts -to give each word its proper pronunciation, and finally he accepted -my performance as satisfactory. By that time I knew these documents -by heart and so did Bilharz, and he, in spite of himself, liked them -so well that he accused me of conspiring to make an American out of -him. “You are sinking rapidly, my boy, in the whirlpool of American -democracy, and you are dragging me down with you,” said Bilharz one -evening, when I objected to some of the amendments which he offered in -order to harmonize the American theory of freedom with the principles -of German socialism. He admitted that he, a loyal Roman Catholic, did -not care much for German social democracy, but that he often wondered -why the American enthusiasts for democracy did not take German social -democracy and save themselves the trouble of writing the Declaration -of Independence. I called his attention to the fact that American -democracy is much older than German social democracy, and he, somewhat -irritated by that suggestion and by my defense of American democracy, -as I understood it, suggested that he should resign his position as -my teacher and become my pupil. His flippant criticism of American -democracy and my stiff defense of it helped me much to see things which -otherwise I should have missed, but these discussions threatened the -entente cordiale between Bilharz and myself. Finally we compromised and -changed our course of reading, dropping things relating to political -theories and taking up poetry. Longfellow’s and Bryant’s poetry were -my favorites. “The Village Blacksmith” and “Thanatopsis” I knew by -heart and enjoyed reciting to Bilharz, who was greatly pleased whenever -in these recitations I avoided making a single serious break in my -pronunciation. After reading some of Shakespeare’s dramas which Booth -and other famous actors like Lawrence Barrett and John McCullough -were playing at that time, I visited the theatre often, and from my -modest gallery seat I would analyze carefully the articulation of every -syllable which Booth and the other actors were reciting. Booth did -not have a big voice; it was much smaller than the voice of Lawrence -Barrett or of powerful John McCullough, but I understood him better. -Bilharz explained it by saying that Booth had a perfect articulation. -“Articulation is an art which the Greeks invented; big voice is brute -force common among the Russians,” he used to say, protesting whenever -he had an opportunity against mere physical strength, which was natural -considering his scanty physical resources. He hated both the Russians -and the Prussians, because, in his opinion, they both were big brutes. -In those days the southern Germans had no love for the Prussians. He -never missed a single chance to sing the praises of Greek drama and -of the Greek theatre and of everything which flourished during the -classical age. He called my attention to the enormous size of Greek -theatres and to the necessity of perfect articulation on the part of -Greek actors if they were to be heard. “They were great artists,” said -he; “our actors are duffers only. We are all duffers! Give me the -Greeks, give me Homer, Pindar, Demosthenes, Plato, Praxiteles, Phidias, -Sophocles, and hundreds of others who spoke the language of the gods -and did things which only the divine spirit in man can do, and you -can have your Morse, McCormick, Howe, Ericsson, and the rest of the -materialistic crew who ran the show at Philadelphia.” He certainly -told many a fine story when he spoke of the great poets, orators, -philosophers, and sculptors of Greece, and his stories impressed me -much because they were great revelations to me; they were the first -to arouse my interest in the great civilization of Greece. They would -have impressed me even more if Bilharz had not displayed a glaring -tendency to exaggerate, in order to create a strong contrast between -what he called the idealism of classical Greece and what he called the -realistic materialism of modern America. According to him the first had -its seat among the gods on the ethereal top of Mount Olympus and the -second one was sinking deeper and deeper through the shafts of coal -and iron mines into the dark caverns of material earth. “No action,” -said Bilharz, “which needs the assistance of a steam-engine or of any -other mechanism can trace its origin to idealism nor can it end in -idealism.” I suggested that every animal body is a mechanism and that -its continuous evolution seems to indicate that the world is heading -for a definite ideal. Bilharz flew up like a hornet when he heard the -word evolution. - -A lively discussion was going on in those days between the biological -sciences and theology, Huxley and many other scientists championing -the claims of Darwin’s evolution theory and the theologians defending -the claims of revealed religion. I was too young and too untutored to -understand much of those learned discussions, but Bilharz followed them -with feverish anxiety. His theological arguments did not appeal to me, -and so far as I was concerned they lost even the little force they had -when Bilharz turned them against what he called American mechanism -and materialism, which he tried to make responsible for the alleged -materialism of the evolution theory. His political and philosophical -theories based upon blind prejudice created a gap between him and me -which widened every day. Here are some illustrations of it. - -When I described to him the election day of 1876, telling him that I -and thousands of others had stood quietly and patiently hours and hours -in drenching rain in front of the New York _Tribune_ building waiting -for the returns which would tell us whether Hayes or Tilden was to be -the supreme executive head of the United States during the coming four -years; how the next day some of the newspapers had raised a howl of -“fraud,” accusing the Republican party of tampering with the election -returns in one of the States, but that the people of New York City -and of the whole country had paid no attention, trusting implicitly -to the machinery of government to straighten out crookedness if it -existed, and how this dignity of American democracy thrilled me when I -compared it with the rows and scandals accompanying elections in the -countries of the military frontier of Austria-Hungary, he only laughed -and ridiculed the whole procedure of electing by ignorant voters the -supreme executive head of a nation. He told me a story of Aristides of -Athens, who, being requested by a voter to write upon a shell the name -of the man who was to be condemned for some crime which was not quite -clear to the Athenian voter, wrote down his own name, and Aristides, -the just, the noblest character of Athens, was condemned. But the -condemnation of this just and noble and innocent man was, according to -Bilharz, a condemnation of the Athenian democracy, whose shortcomings -brought the downfall of Greek civilization, and he added that the -shortcomings of American democracy would bring the downfall of the old -European civilization. The Aristides story interested me much, but the -inference he drew from it made me think of Christian of West Street, -and of his blunt remark: “A European greenhorn must have told you -that.” Jim was present at this discussion. He was a strong Presbyterian -and ridiculed on every occasion what he called Bilharz’s Roman Catholic -views. This time he quoted Lincoln by saying “that government of the -people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the -earth.” Then he added for the edification of Bilharz that religion -in the Roman Catholic church is of the church, by the church, for -the church, and that this was the real reason why Bilharz, trained -in this kind of theology, would never understand American democracy. -This shocked me, because I expected a fist fight between my two best -friends, but ... the fist fight did not take place. - -I enjoyed taking long walks on Broadway whenever I had free time, going -up on one side and coming down on the other, inspecting every window in -bookstores and art stores and looking at the latest things in pictorial -art, at the titles of the latest things in literature, and at the -photographs and engravings of prominent men of the day. This gave me -quite an idea of what was going on in the American world of intellect. -Bilharz never joined me because, he said, there was nothing worth -seeing on these inspection tours of mine. Once during the noon recess I -managed to take him around the corner of Cortlandt Street and Broadway -trusting to luck to meet a certain great person whom I had seen several -times before and recognized because I saw his photograph in the -shop-windows of Broadway. I succeeded, for there in the midst of the -Broadway crowd appeared before us William Cullen Bryant, the author of -“Thanatopsis”! He was then the editor of _The Evening Post_, which was -located on Broadway not far from Cortlandt Street. I pointed him out; -Bilharz held his breath and, referring to the wonderful appearance of -the great poet, he said: “There is the only man in this materialistic -land of reapers and mowing-machines and chattering telephone disks who -could take a seat among the gods on Mount Olympus and be welcomed there -by the shades of the great idealists of Greece.” - -At another time I managed to take him as far as City Hall; it was some -holiday, and the papers had announced that President Hayes and his -secretary of state, William Evarts, would be at City Hall at noon, -and they were there. Bilharz and I stood in a huge crowd, but we had -a good view of the President and of his secretary of state, and we -heard every word of their short speeches. They were dressed just like -everybody else, but their remarkable physiognomies and their scholarly -words convinced me that they belonged to the exalted position into -which the vote of the people had placed them. The New York Sun was a -bitter opponent of President Hayes and published his picture on the -editorial page of every one of its issues. In this picture the letters -spelling “fraud” were represented as branded across the expansive -brow of the President. But as I looked at him standing in front of -City Hall and beheld the light which was reflected from his smooth and -honest brow I knew that the New York Sun was wrong, and I vowed never -to read it again until that picture disappeared from its editorial -pages. Bilharz did not understand my admiration of the scene which we -had witnessed: the democratic simplicity of the highest officials in -the great United States and the very informal reception given to them -in the great metropolis, New York, was all due, according to him, to -a lack of artistic taste on the part of vulgar democracy. I thought -of the multicolored uniforms loaded with shining decorations, of the -plumed hats and long sabres, and of the numerous glaring flags with -imperial eagles displayed on such occasions in the Austrian Empire, -and I told Bilharz that if that monkey business was all due to a -profusion of artistic taste, then give me the simplicity of vulgar -democracy. Bilharz shrugged his shoulders and pitied me, and I pitied -him for having to pass, as he assured me often, the rest of his days in -this--to him--the most uninteresting part of the valley of tears, das -Thraenenthal, as he called this terrestrial globe. - -Such were the many differences of mental attitude which widened the gap -between Bilharz and myself. He clung to the notions which were handed -down to the Old World from generations long departed; I, following -Jim’s suggestion, was trying to pick up wherever I could new ideas in -the New World. Much learning hath made him mad, thought I, whenever -I analyzed the strange ideas which Bilharz had of the United States -of America. I came to the conclusion that his term of apprenticeship -as greenhorn would never end. It is a national calamity that the vast -majority of our immigrants never see the end of their apprenticeship as -greenhorns. - -I wished to believe that I was no longer a greenhorn, and I certainly -did not wish to listen to opinions of a greenhorn such as were the -opinions of Bilharz in matters outside of Greek and Roman history and -of the civilization which it described. His eyes were continually -turned to a sunset the glory of which had faded long ago; my eyes -watched just as eagerly for the daily sunrise as they did on the -pasturelands of my native village, and each sunrise showed me something -new in this--to me--still unknown land. He contemplated the past, and I -explored the present and dreamed about the future. I thought of Jim’s -prophecy which said that some day I should outgrow the opportunities -of Cortlandt Street, and I felt confident that the day had arrived. My -mind was made up to search for new opportunities, but Jim, and Bilharz -also, in spite of his shortcomings, were still a great attraction, and -I moved slowly. - -One day, after leaving Cooper Union library, I walked along the upper -Bowery, refreshing my memories of the hard winter of 1874-1875. In -Broome Street near the Bowery I saw a store with a sign bearing the -name of Lukanitch. The man of that name must be a Serb, thought I, and -I walked in, longing to hear the language which I had not heard for -over three years. It was a hardware store dealing principally in files -and tools made of hardened steel. Behind the desk stood an elderly man, -and he, much surprised, answered my Serbian greeting in the Serbian -language with an accent reminding me of Kos, my Slovene teacher in -Panchevo. Lukanitch told me that he was a Slovene and that in his young -days he was a pedler, a Kranyats, as they called the Slovenian pedlers -in my native village. His annual summer tours took him to my native -Banat. A Kranyats travels on foot hundreds of miles, carrying on his -back a huge case with numerous small drawers, each drawer containing a -different line of goods: pins, needles, and threads; pens and pencils, -cheap jewelry and gaily colored handkerchiefs; cotton, linen, silk, -and all kinds of things which the peasants are apt to buy. A Kranyats -was a familiar sight in my native village, and he was always welcome -there, because he was a Slovene, a near kin to the Serb; and the Serb -peasants of the Banat plains loved to hear a Kranyats describe the -beauties of the mountainsides of little Slovenia on the eastern slope -of the Dolomites. When I disclosed my name to Lukanitch he asked me for -my father’s name, and when I told him that it was Constantine and that -he lived in Idvor, Banat, his eyes looked like two scintillating stars. -He gave me a big hug and a big tear threatened to roll down his cheek -when he said: “Ko che ko Bog?” (Who can fathom the will of God?) After -relating to me that my father had befriended him nearly thirty years -prior to that time and that he had often stayed as guest at my father’s -house whenever his annual tours as Kranyats took him through Idvor, -he begged me to come to his house on the following Sunday and dine -with his family. I did, and there I met his good wife, a fine Slavonic -type, and also his son and daughter, who were born in this country and -who looked like young Slavs with Americanism grafted upon them. His -son was about to graduate from a high school, and his daughter was -preparing for Normal College. They were both American in manner and -sentiment, but father and mother, although deeply devoted to the United -States, the native country of their children, were still sincerely -attached to the beautiful customs of the Slovene land. The children -preferred to speak English, but they delighted in Slovene music, which -they cultivated with much enthusiasm. That made their parents most -happy. Their home was a beautiful combination of American and Slovene -civilization. Once they invited me to an anniversary party and I found -the whole family dressed in most picturesque Slovenian costumes; but -everybody in the party, including even old Lukanitch and his wife -and all the Slovenian guests, spoke English. Most of the guests were -Americans, but they enjoyed the Slovenian dishes and the Slovenian -music, singing, and dancing as much as anybody. To my great surprise -the American girls, friends of Miss Lukanitch, played Slovenian music -exceedingly well, and I thought to myself that a sufficiently frequent -repetition of parties of that kind would soon transform the American -population in the vicinity of Prince Street into Slovenians. This -interaction between two very different civilizations gave me food for -thought, which I am still digesting mentally. - -Lukanitch and his family became my devoted friends, and they were -just as interested in my plans and aspirations as if I had been a -member of their family. The old lady had a tender heart, and she shed -many a tear listening to bits of my history from the time when I bade -good-by to father and mother at the steamboat landing on the Danube, -five years before. The disappearance of my roast goose at Karlovci, -my first railroad ride from Budapest to Vienna, my dialogues with the -train conductor and the gaudy station-master at Vienna, and my free -ride in a first-class compartment from Vienna to Prague in company with -American friends amused her and her husband hugely. I had to repeat -the story many a time for the benefit of her Slovenian friends. She -begged me repeatedly to tell the story of my crossing of the Atlantic -and of my hardships as greenhorn, being evidently anxious to have her -children hear it. I did it several times, scoring much success on each -occasion, and as a reward she loaded me with many little gifts and with -many enjoyable feasts on Sundays and holidays. My interpretation of -the American theory of freedom, which I had derived from reading the -lives and the utterances of the great men who made this country and -from my three years’ struggles as greenhorn, found a most appreciative -audience in the Lukanitch family. They applauded Jim’s sentiment, that -this country is a monument to the great men who made it, and not to -a single family like the Hapsburgs of Austria-Hungary. Old Lukanitch -offered to engage me as his teacher in American history, and young -Lukanitch offered to get me an invitation from the principal of his -high school to deliver an oration on the Declaration of Independence. -The offers were not meant very seriously, but there was enough -sincerity in them to make me believe that my training in America was -recognized as having substantial value by people whose opinion deserved -respect. I saw in it the first real recognition referred to in the -prophecy of my fellow passenger on the immigrant ship who said: “No -matter who you are or what you know or what you have, you will be a -greenhorn when you land in the New World, and a greenhorn has to serve -his apprenticeship as greenhorn before he can establish his claim to -any recognition.” I said to myself: “Here is my first recognition small -as it may be, and I am certainly no longer a greenhorn.” - -No longer a greenhorn! Oh, what a confidence that gives to a -foreign-born youth who has experienced the hardships of serving his -apprenticeship as a greenhorn! Then there were other sources of -confidence: I had a goodly deposit in the Union Dime Savings Bank and -it was several thousand times as big as the nickel which I brought to -Castle Garden when I landed. Besides, I had learned a thing or two in -the evening classes at Cooper Union, and my English was considered -good not only in vocabulary and grammar, but also in articulation, -thanks to Bilharz. Young Lukanitch assured me that my knowledge of -English, mathematics, and science would easily take me into college. He -even prophesied a most successful college career, pointing at my big -chest and broad shoulders and feeling my hard biceps. “You will make -a splendid college oarsman,” said he, “and they will do anything for -you at Columbia if you are a good oarsman, even if you do not get from -Bilharz so very much Greek or Latin.” At that time Columbia stood very -high in rowing. One of her crews won in the Henley Regatta, and its -picture could be seen in every illustrated paper. I had seen it many -a time and remembered the looks of every member of that famous crew. -Young Lukanitch was so enthusiastic about it that he would have gone -to Columbia himself if his father had not needed him so much in his -steel-tool business. He did his best to turn my eyes from Nassau Hall -to Columbia. He succeeded, but not so much on account of my prospects -in rowing as on account of other things, and among them was the -official name of that institution: “Columbia College in the City of New -York.” The fact that the college was located in the city of New York -carried much weight, because New York appealed to my imagination more -than any other place in the world. The impression which it made upon my -mind as the immigrant ship moved into New York Harbor on that clear and -sunny March day when I first passed through Castle Garden, the Gate of -America, never faded. My first victory on American soil was won in New -York when I fought for my right to wear the red fez. - - - - -IV - -FROM GREENHORN TO CITIZENSHIP AND COLLEGE DEGREE - - -The Columbia boat-race victory at Henley occurred in 1878. By that time -I had already with the assistance of Bilharz finished a considerable -portion of my Greek and Latin preparation for Princeton--or, as I -called it, for “Nassau Hall.” My change of allegiance from Princeton to -Columbia was gradual. - -Columbia College was located at that time on the block between Madison -and Park Avenues and between Forty-ninth and Fiftieth Streets in New -York City. One of its proposed new buildings was, according to report, -to be called Hamilton Hall, in honor of Alexander Hamilton. When I -learned this I looked up the history of Alexander Hamilton. One can -imagine how thrilled I was when I found that Hamilton left the junior -class at Columbia College and joined Washington’s armies as captain -when he was barely nineteen, and at twenty was lieutenant-colonel and -Washington’s aide-de-camp! What an appeal to a young imagination! Few -things ever thrilled me as much as the life of Alexander Hamilton. -Every American youth preparing for college should read the history of -Hamilton’s life. - -One cannot look up the history of Hamilton’s life without running -across the name of another great Columbia man, John Jay, first -Secretary of Foreign Affairs, appointed by Congress, and the first -Chief Justice of the United States, appointed by Washington, and a -stanch backer of brilliant Hamilton. Chancellor Livingston, another -great Columbia man, administered the first constitutional oath of -office to Washington; he also completed the purchase of Louisiana from -France. The more I studied the history of Hamilton’s time the more I -saw what tremendous influence Columbia’s alumni exerted at that time. -Cortlandt Street being near Trinity Church, I walked there to look at -the Hamilton monument in the Trinity churchyard. This monument was the -first suggestion to me of a bond of union between Trinity Church and -Columbia College. Before long I found many other bonds of union between -these two great institutions. - -Every time I passed Columbia College in my long walks up-town and -looked at the rising structure of Hamilton Hall, I thought of these -three great Columbia men. What student of Hamilton’s life could have -looked at Hamilton Hall on Madison Avenue without being reminded of the -magnificent intellectual efforts which two young patriots, Hamilton -and Madison, made in the defense of the federalist form of the new -American Republic? It happened thus that my memory of Nassau Hall at -Princeton gradually faded, although it never vanished. The famous -boat-race victory of a Columbia crew at Henley would not alone have -produced this effect. It was produced by three great New York men of -the Revolutionary period who were alumni of “Columbia College in the -City of New York.” Columbia had at that time a school of mines and -engineering, separate from the college. I was much better prepared for -it than for Columbia College, thanks to the evening lectures at Cooper -Union, and to my natural inclination to scientific studies, but I -imagined that the spirit of Hamilton, Jay, and Livingston hovered about -the academic buildings of Columbia College only. - -Bilharz rejoiced when I informed him of my decision to put on extra -pressure in my classical studies preparatory for Columbia College, and -congratulated himself, as I found out later, that he had succeeded in -rescuing me from the worship of what he called scientific materialism. -The good old fellow did not know that at that very time I was spending -many hours of my spare time reading Tyndall’s “Heat as a Mode of -Motion,” and Tyndall’s famous lectures on Sound and Light, which he -delivered in this country with great success in the early seventies. -These popular descriptions of physical phenomena were the poems in -prose to which I referred before. Another book of a similar character -came into my hands at that time through the Cooper Union library. I -have a copy of it now, having received it over thirty years ago as a -present from the late General Thomas Ewing. It is called “The Poetry -of Science,” published in 1848 by Robert Hunt. It starts with the -following quotation from Milton: - - “How charming is Divine Philosophy! - Not harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose, - But musical as is Apollo’s lute - And a perpetual feast of nectar’d sweets, - Where no crude surfeit reigns.” - -Tyndall’s and Hunt’s writings appealed to my imagination at that -time in the same way as Milton’s “Paradise Lost,” or as Longfellow’s -“Hiawatha,” or as William Cullen Bryant’s “Thanatopsis.” They convinced -me that the Slavs were not the only people who, as I had been inclined -to think, see the poetical side of science, but that everybody sees -it, because science on its abstract side is poetry; it is Divine -Philosophy, as Milton calls it. Science is a food which nourishes not -only the material but also the spiritual body of man. This was my pet -argument whenever I was called upon to defend science against Bilharz’s -attacks. - -My progress in Greek and Latin grammar under the guidance of Bilharz -was rapid even before I had decided to steer for Columbia. It was -a question of memory and of analysis. My memory had had a stiff -linguistic training during the several years preceding that date, -in trying to master the English language with all its vagaries in -spelling and pronunciation. These vagaries I did not find in the -grammars of the classical languages, which appeared to me to be as -definite and as exact as the geometrical theorems in Euclid. Hadley’s -Greek Grammar did not differ much, I thought, from Davies’ Legendre’s -Geometry. Mathematics was always my strong point, and good memory is a -characteristic virtue of the Serb race; I, therefore, had an easy road -in my classical studies with Bilharz. - -As the time went on I saw that entrance into Columbia College was -within easy reach so far as my studies were concerned. But here -again the old question arose which I first asked myself three years -before, when the train, taking me from Nassau Hall to the Bowery, was -approaching New York. “Social unpreparedness” stared me in the face. I -could not define it, but I felt its existence. I shall try to describe -it. Columbia College, a daughter of great Trinity Church, an alma mater -of men like Hamilton, Jay, Livingston, and of many other gentlemen and -scholars who guided the destiny of these great United States--can that -great American institution, I asked myself, afford to enroll a raw -Serbian immigrant among its students; train me, an uncouth employee of -a cracker factory, to become one of its alumni? I thought of the first -sentence in the Declaration of Independence, but it did not persuade me -that I was an equal of the American boy who was prepared to meet all -the requirements necessary for entrance into Columbia College, because -I was convinced that in addition to entrance examinations there were -other requirements for which no prescribed examinations existed. The -college of Hamilton and of Jay expected certain other things which -I knew I did not have and could not get from books. A jump from the -Cortlandt Street factory to Columbia College, from Jim and Bilharz to -patriarchal President Barnard and the famous professors at Columbia, -appeared to me like a jump over Columbia’s great and venerable -traditions. Old Lukanitch and his family and their American friends -helped me much to start building a bridge over this big gap, but the -more I associated with these people, who lived around humble Prince -Street, not far from the Bowery, the more I saw my shortcomings in what -I called, for want of a better name, “social preparedness.” “How shall -I feel,” I asked myself, “when I begin to associate with boys whose -parents live on Madison and Fifth Avenues, and whose ancestors were -friends of Hamilton and of Jay?” Their traditions, I was sure, gave -them an equipment which I did not have, unless my Serbian traditions -proved to be similar to their American traditions. My native village -attached great importance to traditions, and I knew how much the -peasants of Idvor would resent it if a stranger not in tune with their -traditions attempted to settle in their historic village. - -The examination of immigrants which I saw at Castle Garden, when I -landed, had made me think that traditions did not count for much in -Castle Garden. But my principal acquisition from my apprenticeship -as greenhorn had been the recognition that there are great American -traditions, and that the opportunities of this country are inaccessible -to immigrants who, like Bilharz, do not understand their meaning and -their vital importance in American life. Vila’s mother on the Delaware -farm, my experiences with Christian of West Street, and Jim’s little -sermons in the Cortlandt Street boiler-room had impressed this idea -upon my mind very strongly. The mental attitude of a young Serb from -the military frontier was naturally very receptive to impressions of -that kind. My respect for the traditions of my own race had prepared me -to respect the traditions of the country which I expected to adopt, -and hence I was afraid that my cultural equipment was not up to the -standards of the college boys who were brought up in accordance with -American traditions. My subsequent experience showed me that my anxiety -was justifiable. - -I have already mentioned that a short time before I ran away from -Prague and headed for the United States I had read a translation of -Harriet Beecher Stowe’s “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” It had been recommended -to me by my American friends who gave me a free ride in a first-class -compartment from Vienna to Prague. My mention of the name of this great -woman, together with the names of Lincoln and of Franklin, as Americans -that I knew something about, had won me the sympathy of the immigration -officials at Castle Garden, who, otherwise, might have deported me. -Her name was deeply engraved upon the tablets of my memory. The famous -Beecher-Tilton trial was much discussed in those days in the New York -press, and when I heard that Henry Ward Beecher was a brother of the -author of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” my opinion of Tilton was formed, and no -judge or jury could have changed it. Beecher’s photographs, which I -saw in my inspection tours on Broadway, confirmed me in my belief that -he was a brother worthy of his great sister. Young Lukanitch and his -sister knew of Beecher’s fame and, although strict Roman Catholics, -they consented to accompany me on my first pilgrimage to Beecher’s -Plymouth Church, and there I saw the great orator for the first time. - -His face looked to me like that of a lion and his long gray locks, -reaching almost to his shoulders, supported this illusion. The church -provided a setting worthy of his striking appearance. The grand organ -behind and above the pulpit supplied a harmonious musical background to -the magnificent singing of the large choir. I felt that the thrilling -music was tuning me up for the sermon which the great orator was -about to preach, and I was right. The sermon was free from involved -theological analysis; it dealt with simple questions of human life -and its determination by human habits. It was a dramatic and poetic -presentation of the little sermons which Jim preached in the Cortlandt -Street boiler-room, but in a very plain form of statement. The fact, -however, that I found many spiritual bonds between great Plymouth -Church and Jim’s humble boiler-room shows me to-day why Beecher touched -the heart-strings of the plain people. He helped them to solve some of -their problems of life just as Jim tried to help me solve mine. But -Jim was not a cultured man and he delivered his chunks of practical -wisdom in the same offhand manner in which he fed shovelfuls of coal -to the busy fires under his boilers. Beecher, on the other hand, was a -great orator and a great poet, and every little grain of wisdom stored -up in human life was placed before his congregation with all the force -of his overpowering personality and with all the embellishments with -which the imagination of a poetical nature could clothe it. I felt -thrills creeping over my whole body as I listened, and the effect was -not only mental and spiritual, but also physical, undoubtedly because -of the quickening of the blood’s circulation produced by the mental -exhilaration. Bilharz, although a rigid Roman Catholic, admitted, after -hearing Beecher several times, that great sermons are possible even -without any theological flavoring. “But,” said he in his usual dramatic -way, “everything is possible to a poetic soul which is propelled by the -wings of a genius.” A remarkable concession from a man of Bilharz’s -training and mental attitude! - -Jim, who was a strict Presbyterian, rejoiced that I had picked out -a Congregational Church for religious worship, and old Lukanitch -confessed that if I persuaded his children to go with me to Plymouth -Church very often they might desert the Roman Catholic faith of their -ancestors. I felt assured, however, that St. Sava and the Orthodoxy -of my mother would never lose me through the influence of Beecher’s -genius, because Beecher was preaching to all humanity and not to a -particular creed. His words were like the life-giving radiation of the -sun, which shines upon all things alike. I saw in him a living example -of that type of American who, like Hamilton, Jay, Livingston, and the -other great men of whom I had heard at the Philadelphia exposition, -were the spiritual and the intellectual giants of the Revolutionary -period. My study of the history of Hamilton’s life had shown me -that the number of these giants was large; many of them signed the -Declaration of Independence. I did not fail to see in this a most -propitious omen of a great future for the country. What a spiritual -giant Lincoln must have been, I thought, when I heard Beecher refer to -him with humblest veneration! Beecher was the sunrise which dispelled -much of that mist which prevented my eyes, just as it prevents all -foreign eyes, from seeing the clear outline of American civilization. - -Four years previously I had for the first time attended an American -church service in Delaware City, and had carried away the impression -that in matters of public worship America was not up to the standards -prescribed by the Serbian Church. Beecher and his Plymouth Church -changed my judgment completely. Beecher’s congregation seemed to me -like a beehive full of honey-hearted beings. Each of them reminded -me of the Americans who had befriended me at the railroad-station in -Vienna, and had rescued me from the official dragon who threatened -to send me back to the prisons of the military frontier. I firmly -believed that Beecher was preaching a new gospel, the American gospel -of humanity, the same gospel which his great sister had preached. Every -member of his congregation looked to me like a faithful disciple of -this doctrine. - -One of those honey-hearted disciples was a Doctor Charles Shepard, -of Columbia Heights, Brooklyn. He and his family were Unitarians, I -think, but they often attended Plymouth Church on account of their -great admiration for Beecher. Doctor Shepard’s family was, in my -opinion, a family of saints; generosity, refinement, and spiritual -discipline filled the golden atmosphere of their home. When I disclosed -my plans to the good doctor, he offered to help me carry them out. -He was an ardent advocate of the curative powers of hydropathy in -conjunction with proper diet and total abstinence from alcohol and -tobacco. “Cleanliness is next to godliness” was his motto, and by -cleanliness he meant freedom from unclean habits of every kind. His -theory was successfully practised in his hydropathic establishment, and -he flourished, and his institution was famous. His very old father, -over eighty years of age, who managed the office of the establishment, -needed assistance, and Doctor Shepard offered me the position and -spoke of getting a friend of his to help me prepare for entrance to -Columbia. His friend was Professor Webster, who taught Greek and Latin -at the Adelphi Academy in Brooklyn. I jumped at Doctor Shepard’s offer, -although the prospect of deserting Jim and Bilharz made me hesitate. -But Jim applauded my decision and he recalled his prophecy that I -should soon outgrow the opportunities of the New England Cracker -Factory. Bilharz expressed his gratification that he had contributed to -my progress, and he certainly had, both by what he praised and by what -he condemned. He was sincere in both, but his praise was founded upon a -rare knowledge of classical literatures, while his condemnation was due -to prejudice against science and against American democracy. The real -secret of his grip upon my imagination I shall disclose later. - -Professor Webster was an ideal pedagogue; his pupils were boys and -girls from some of the best families of Brooklyn. Their teacher was -to them an apostle of classical culture, in which they were much -interested, partly because of their admiration for their beloved -teacher. After a few private lessons he invited me to join his classes -in Greek and Latin, where I was received with many signs of cordiality -from both the boys and the girls. Like myself, they were preparing for -college. I attended these classes three times a week and entertained -them much by my continental pronunciation of Greek and Latin, which -I had learned from Bilharz, who had also taught me to recite the -Greek and Latin hexameter with proper intonation. This delighted the -heart of Professor Webster and of his pupils. Recitations of Greek -and Latin verses with faultless rhythm were all which at first I -could offer to the entertainment of my classmates. After a while I -entertained some of them with Serbian poetry and also with Serbian kolo -dancing. I made every effort to make them forget that I was a Balkan -barbarian; but everybody, as if reading my thoughts, assured me that -I was contributing more to the Adelphi Academy than I was getting in -return. I knew better. I felt that the association with those splendid -boys and girls and with Professor Webster contributed much more to my -preparation for Columbia than all the book work which I had ever done -anywhere. - -Doctor Shepard and his family saw the rapid change in me, I thought, -and many of their evidences of approval were very encouraging. When -I first met Doctor Shepard he was strongly pro-Turkish whenever the -Balkan war, which was raging at that time, was discussed. He had a -notion that the Serbians were a rebellious and barbarous race. During -the early part of 1879 he gradually shifted to the Serbian side, and I -was bold enough to take all credit for it to myself. I considered his -and his family’s approval the best test of the success of my efforts to -understand the American standards of conduct. This success meant much -more to me in my preparation for college than the success in my studies. - -In an interscholastic athletic contest I volunteered to run in a -ten-mile race without any previous training, and won. From that day on -my friends at the Adelphi Academy regarded me as one of their number, -and it was a liberal education to me to listen to their eulogies of -_my loyalty to them and to their institution_, which, they said, I -displayed when I fought under the Adelphi banner on the athletic -field. Legends began to grow up among the Adelphi boys and girls about -a Serbian youngster who had won the ten-mile race without previous -training. When your young and enthusiastic friends begin to indulge -in legends about you, be assured that you are getting on some. But -legends, like nursery rhymes, will lull you to sleep if you are not -very, very wide-awake. This experience made me see clearly what young -Lukanitch had meant when he told me what oarsmanship might do for me at -Columbia even if I did not know much Greek and Latin. I was confirmed -in this when the boys of the Adelphi Academy who expected to enter -Yale or Princeton used much of their persuasive powers to steer me to -these colleges. It encouraged me much and diminished greatly my anxiety -about “social unpreparedness.” But my answer was that the college of -Hamilton, Jay, and Livingston, in the City of New York, was the port -for which I was sailing, and that Beecher’s church in Brooklyn would be -one of the anchors to keep me there, and that Beecher, as far as I was -concerned, would be a part of Columbia College. - -The summer vacation of 1879 was approaching, and I knew that all my -academic friends in New York and Brooklyn would leave for the country. -There was nothing to keep me in Brooklyn except my obligations to good -Doctor Shepard. He excused me when I told him that I wished to devote -all my time during that summer to study, so as to insure my passing -with a high mark all my entrance examinations in the following autumn. -A high mark would gain me freedom from all tuition fees at Columbia, -a very serious consideration. Doctor Shepard approved, and I moved to -what I called, jokingly, my summer “villa” on the Passaic River, near -Rutherford Park, New Jersey. It was a tiny little cottage near the bank -of the river; it had not been occupied for a long time, and it was -looked after by an old Danish woman who lived quite near it. She kept -two cows and a lot of chickens and ducks and sold butter and eggs and -fowl. Her son Christopher peddled kindling-wood in Passaic, Belleville, -and Newark, New Jersey. The old lady consented to let me live in the -cottage until a permanent tenant should appear, and she was willing to -take care of me for a certain payment per week. I accepted her terms on -condition that she allow me to work off a certain part of the agreed -amount by sawing kindling-wood from ten to twelve in the morning and -from four to six in the afternoon. My suggestion made her thoughtful, -and she finally confessed her fear that my exercises before meals might -give me such an appetite that I should eat her out of house and home. -We agreed to try the scheme for a week, and we were both satisfied with -the result. She took good care of me, and I furnished her with more -kindling-wood for her son’s trade than she had ever expected. Moreover, -the regular help, who was hired for the specific purpose of cutting -kindling-wood, increased his output, in order to keep up with me. I -enjoyed the work hugely as means of splendid exercise, and rejoiced in -making the output as large as possible. The old lady was delighted with -the unexpected result. Every two-hour period of sawing and splitting -of kindling-wood was followed by a dip and swim in the Passaic River, -and by the end of the summer I was all muscle and could have run a -race of twenty miles without any previous training. This proved a very -valuable asset in the beginning of my college career; muscle and brawn -are splendid things to take along when one enters college, and have -while in college. Several incidents in my college career bear upon the -interesting feature of athletics in American college life, and I shall -describe them later even at the risk of appearing egotistical. This -feature is characteristically American and is quite unknown on the -continent of Europe. - -Eight hours each day I devoted to study: three in the morning to Greek, -three in the afternoon to Latin, and two in the evening to other -studies. It was a most profitable summer outing of over three months, -and it cost me only thirty dollars; the rest was paid in sawing and -splitting of kindling-wood. Whenever I read now about the Kaiser’s -activities at Doorn, I think of my summer activities in 1879, and I -wonder who in the world suggested my scheme to William Hohenzollern! - -During the last week of September of that year I presented myself at -Columbia for entrance examinations. They were oral, and were conducted -by the professors themselves and not by junior instructors. The first -two books of the Iliad, excepting the catalogue of ships, and four -orations of Cicero, I knew by heart. My leisure time at my Passaic -River “villa” had permitted me these pleasant mental gymnastics; I -wanted to show off before Bilharz with my Greek and Latin quotations; -to say nothing of the wonderful mental exhilaration which a young -student gets from reading aloud and memorizing the words of Homer and -of Cicero. The professors were greatly surprised and asked me why I -had taken so much trouble. I told them that it was no trouble, because -Serbs delight in memorizing beautiful lines. The Serbs of Montenegro, -for instance, know by heart most of the lines which their great poet -Nyegosh ever wrote, and particularly his great epic “The Mountain -Glory.” I told them also of illiterate Baba Batikin, the minstrel of -my native village, who knew most of the old Serbian ballads by heart. -Besides, I assured the professors, I wanted to do in Greek and Latin -as well as I possibly could, so as to gain free tuition. For the other -studies I was not afraid, I told them, and they assured me that my -chances for free tuition were certainly good. The other examinations -gave me no trouble, thanks to my training with Bilharz and with the -lecturers in the evening classes at Cooper Union. A note from the -Registrar’s office informed me a few days later that I was enrolled as -a student in Columbia College with freedom from all tuition fees. There -was no person in the United States on that glorious day happier than I! - -The college atmosphere which I found at Columbia at that time gave me -a new sensation. I did not understand it at first and misinterpreted -many things. The few days preceding the opening of the college sessions -I spent chasing around for a boarding-house, while my classmates were -hanging around the college buildings, making arrangements to join this -or that fraternity, and also solidifying the line of defense of the -freshmen against the hostile sophomores. There was a lively process of -organization going on under the leadership of groups of boys who came -from the same preparatory schools. These groups led and the others -were expected to follow without a murmur. Insubordination or even -indifference was condemned as lack of college spirit. This spirit was -necessary among the freshmen particularly, because, as I was informed -later, there was a great common danger--the sophomores! I saw some of -this feverish activity going on, but did not understand its meaning -and hence remained outside of it, as if I were a stranger and not a -member of the freshman class, which I heard described, by the freshmen -themselves, as the best freshman class in the history of Columbia. -The sophomores denied this in a most provoking manner; hence the -hostility. Nobody paid any attention to me; nobody knew me, because I -did not come from any of the preparatory schools which prepared boys -for Columbia. One day I saw on the campus two huge waves of lively -youngsters beating against each other just like inrolling waves of -the sea lifting on their backs the returning waves which had been -reflected from the cliffs of the shore. The freshmen were defending -a cane against fierce attacks of the sophomores. It was the historic -Columbia cane rush, I was told by Michael, the college janitor, -who stood alongside of me as I looked on. It was not a real fight -resulting in broken noses or blackened eyes, but just a most vigorous -push-and-pull contest, the sophomores trying to take possession of a -cane which a strong freshman, surrounded by a stalwart body-guard of -freshmen, was holding and guarding just as a guard of fanatic monks -would defend the sacred relics of a great saint. This freshmen group -was the centre of the scrimmage and it stood there like a high rock in -the midst of an angry sea. Coats and shirts were torn off the backs of -the brave fighters, some attacking and others defending the central -group, but not a single ugly swear-word was heard nor did I see a -single sign of intentional bloodshed. Members of the junior and senior -classes watched as umpires. Michael, the janitor, who knew everybody -on the college campus as a shepherd knows his sheep, was not quite -certain about my identity. He asked me whether I was a freshman, and -when I said “yes,” he asked me why in the world I was not in the rush, -defending the freshmen body-guard. He looked so anxious and worried -that I felt sure of being guilty of some serious offense against old -Columbia traditions. I immediately took off my coat and stiff shirt -and plunged into the surging waves of sophomores and freshmen and -had almost reached the central body-guard of freshmen, eager to join -in its defense, when a sophomore, named Frank Henry, grabbed me and -pulled me back, telling me that I had no business to cross the line of -umpires at that late moment. I did not know the rules of the game and -shoved him aside and we clinched. He was the strongest man in Columbia -College, as I learned later, but my kindling-wood operations on the -banks of the Passaic River had made me a stiff opponent. We wrestled -and wrestled and would have wrestled till sunset like Prince Marco and -the Arab Moussa Kessedjia in the old Serbian ballads, if the umpires -had not proclaimed the cane rush a draw. The main show being over, -the side show which Henry and I were keeping up had no further useful -purpose to serve, and we stopped and shook hands. He was glad to stop, -he admitted, and so was I, but he told my classmates that “if that -terrible Turk had been selected a member of the freshmen body-guard -the result of the cane rush might have been different.” I told him -that I was a Serb, and not a Turk, and he apologized, saying that he -could never draw very fine distinctions between the various races in -the Balkans. “But, whatever race you are,” said he, “you will be a good -fellow if you will learn to _play the game_.” Splendid advice from a -college boy! “_Play the game_,” what a wonderful phrase! I studied it -long, and the more I thought about it the more I was convinced that one -aspect of the history of this country with all its traditions is summed -up in these three words. No foreigner can understand this country who -does not know the full meaning of this phrase, which I first heard from -a Columbia College youngster. No foreign language can so translate the -phrase as to reproduce its brevity and at the same time convey its full -meaning. But, when I heard it, I thought of the bootblacks and newsboys -who, five years previously, had acted as umpires when I defended my -right to wear a red fez. To “play the game” according to the best -traditions of the land which offered me all of its opportunities was -always my idea of Americanization. But how many immigrants to this -land can be made to understand this? - -Some little time after this incident I was approached by the captain -of the freshman crew, who asked me to join his crew. I remembered -young Lukanitch’s opinion about oarsmanship at Columbia, and I was -sorely tempted. But, unfortunately, I had only three hundred and eleven -dollars when I started my college career, and I knew that if I was to -retain my free tuition by high standing in scholarship and also earn -further money for my living expenses I should have no time for other -activities. “Study, work for a living, no participation in college -activities outside of the recitation-room! Do you call that college -training?” asked the captain of the freshman crew, looking perfectly -surprised at my story, which, being the son of wealthy parents, he -did not understand. I admitted that it was not, in the full sense of -the word, but that I was not in a position to avail myself of all the -opportunities which Columbia offered me, and that, in fact, I had -already obtained a great deal more than an immigrant could reasonably -have expected. I touched his sympathetic chord, and I felt that I had -made a new friend. The result of this interview was that my classmates -refrained from asking me to join any of the college activities for -fear that my inability to comply with their request might make me -feel badly. I had their sympathy, but I missed their fellowship, and -therefore I missed in my freshman year much of that splendid training -outside of the classroom which an American college offers to its -students. - -At the end of the freshman year I gained two prizes of one hundred -dollars each, one in Greek and the other in mathematics. They were won -in stiff competitive examinations and meant a considerable scholastic -success, but, nevertheless, they excited little interest among my -classmates. Results of examinations were considered a personal matter -of the individual student himself and not of his fellow classmen. The -prizes were practically the only money upon which I could rely to -help carry me through my second year. The estimated budget for that -year, however, was not fully provided for, and I looked for a job -for the long summer vacation. I did not want a job in the city. My -kindling-wood activity of the preceding summer suited me better, and -after some consultation with my friend Christopher, the kindling-wood -peddler of Rutherford Park, I decided to accept a job on a contract -of his to mow hay during that summer in the various sections of the -Hackensack lowlands. No Columbia athlete ever had a better opportunity -to develop his back and biceps than I had during that summer. I made -good use of it, and earned seventy-five dollars net. - -When my sophomore year began I awaited the cane rush which, according -to old Columbia custom, took place between the sophomores and the -freshmen at the beginning of each academic year, and I was prepared -for it; I knew also what it meant to “play the game.” This time my -class had to do the attacking and I helped with a vengeance. The -muscles which had been hardened in the Hackensack meadows proved most -effective and the result was that shortly I had the freshmen’s cane on -the ground, and was lying flat over it, covering it with my chest. The -pressure of a score of freshmen and sophomores piled up on top of me -threatened to squeeze the cane through my chest bone, which already, I -imagined, was pressing against my lungs, my difficult breathing leading -me to think that my last hour had come. Fortunately, the umpires -cleared away the lively heap of struggling boys on top of me, and I -breathed freely again. Some freshmen were found stretched alongside -of me with their hands holding on to the stick. An equal number of -sophomores held on, and, consequently, the umpires declared the rush -a draw. Nobody was anxious to have another rush, and it was proposed -by the freshmen to settle the question of class superiority by a -wrestling-match, two best out of three falls, catch as catch can. They -had a big fellow who had some fame as a wrestler of great strength, and -they issued a defiant challenge to the sophomores. My classmates held -a meeting in order to pick a match for the freshman giant, but nobody -seemed to be quite up to the job. Finally I volunteered, declaring -that I was not afraid to tackle the freshman giant. “Do you expect to -down him with Greek verses and mathematical formulæ?” shouted some of -my classmates, who had grave doubts about the muscle and the wrestling -ability of a fellow who had won Greek and mathematical prizes. They -knew nothing about my strenuous mowing in the Hackensack meadows -during three long months of that summer. The captain of the class crew -approached me, felt my biceps, my chest, and my back, and shouted, -“All right!” The wrestling-match came off, and the freshman giant -had no show with a boy who had learned the art of wrestling on the -pasture-lands of Idvor, and had held his own against experienced mowers -in the Hackensack meadows. The victory was quick and complete, and my -classmates carried me in triumph to Fritz’s saloon, not far from the -college, where many a toast was drunk to “Michael the Serbian.” From -that day on my classmates called me by my first name and took me up as -if I had been a distinguished descendant of Alexander Hamilton himself. -My scholastic victory in Greek and mathematics meant nothing to my -classmates, because it was a purely personal matter, but my athletic -victory meant everything, because it was a victory of my whole class. -Had I won my scholastic victory in competition with a representative -from another college, then the matter would have had an entirely -different aspect. _Esprit de corps_ is one of those splendid things -which American college life cultivates, and I had the good fortune to -reap many benefits from it. He who pays no attention to this _esprit de -corps_ in an American college runs the risk of being dubbed a “greasy -grind.” - -The sophomore year opened auspiciously. Eight of my classmates formed -a class, the Octagon, and invited me to coach them in Greek and in -mathematics, twice a week. The captain of the class crew was a member -of it. I suspected that he remembered my reasons for refusing to join -the freshman crew and wanted to help. The Octagon class was a great -help in more ways than one. I gave instruction in wrestling also to -several classmates, in exchange for instruction in boxing. This was -my physical exercise, and it was a strenuous one. Devereux Emmet, -a descendant of the great Irish patriot, was one of these exchange -instructors; he could stand any amount of punishment in our boxing -bouts, which impressed upon my mind the truth of the saying that -“blood will tell.” Before the sophomore year was over my classmates -acknowledged me not only a champion in Greek and in mathematics, but -also a champion in wrestling and boxing. The combination was somewhat -unusual and legends began to be spun about it, but they did not turn -my head, nor lull me to sleep, not even when they led to my election -as class president for the junior year. This was indeed a great -compliment, for, because of the junior promenade, the dance given -annually by the junior class, it was customary to elect for that year -a class president who was socially very prominent. A distinguished -classmate, a descendant of three great American names, and a shining -light in New York’s younger social set, was my chief opponent and I -begged to withdraw in his favor; a descendant of Hamilton inspired awe. -But my opponent would not listen to it. He was a member of the most -select fraternity and not at all unpopular, but many of my classmates -objected to him, although he was the grandson of a still living -former Secretary of State and chairman of the board of trustees of -Columbia College. They thought that he paid too much attention to the -fashion-plates of London, and dressed too fashionably. There were other -Columbia boys at that time who, I thought, dressed just as fashionably, -and yet they were very popular; but they were fine athletes, whereas -my opponent was believed to rely too much upon the history of his long -name and upon his splendid appearance. He certainly was a fine example -of classical repose; his classmates, however, admired action. He was -like a young Alcibiades in breeding, looks, and pose, but not in action. - -Some of the old American colleges have been accused from time to time -of encouraging snobbery and a spirit of aristocracy which is not in -harmony with American ideas of democracy. My personal experience as -student at Columbia gives competency to my opinion upon that subject. -Snobs will be found in every country and clime, but there were fewer -snobs at Columbia in those days than in many other much less exalted -places, although Columbia at that time was accused of being a nest -of dudes and snobs. This was one of the arguments advanced by those -friends of mine at the Adelphi Academy who tried to persuade me to -go to Princeton or Yale. The spirit of aristocracy was there, but it -was an aristocracy of the same kind as existed in my native peasant -village. It was a spirit of unconscious reverence for the best American -traditions. I say “unconscious,” and by that I mean absence of noisy -chauvinism and of that racial intolerance by which the Teutonism of -Austria and the Magyarism of Hungary had driven me away from Prague -and from Panchevo. A name with a fine American tradition back of it -attracted much attention, but it was only a letter of recommendation. -He who was found wanting in his make-up and in his conduct when -weighed by the best Columbia College traditions--and they were a -part of American traditions--had a lonely time during his college -career, in spite of his illustrious name or his family’s great wealth. -Foreign-born students, like Cubans and South Americans, met with a -respectful indifference so long as they remained foreigners. Needless -to say, many of them adopted rapidly the attractive ways of the -Columbia boys. But nobody would have resented it, or even paid any -attention to it, if they had retained their foreign ways. A hopeless -fellow became a member of that very small class of students known at -that time as “muckers.” They complained bitterly of snobbery and of -aristocracy. I do not believe that either the spirit of plutocracy, -or of socialism and communism, or of any other un-American current -of thought could ever start from an American college like Columbia -of those days, and bore its way into American life. That type of -aristocracy which made the American college immune from contagion -by un-American influence existed; it was very exacting, and it was -much encouraged. But when American college boys, accused of bowing to -the spirit of aristocracy, have among them a Hamilton, a Livingston, -a DeWitt, and several descendants of Jay, and yet elect for class -president the penniless son of a Serbian peasant village, because they -admire his mental and physical efforts to learn and to comply with -Columbia’s traditions, one can rest assured that the spirit of American -democracy was very much alive in those college boys. - -My success with the Octagon class established my reputation as a doctor -for “lame ducks.” This was the name of those students who failed in -their college examinations, usually examinations in Greek, Latin, and -mathematics. Lame ducks needed a special treatment, called coaching. -I became quite an expert in it, and presently I saw a flock of lame -ducks gathering around me, offering liberal rewards for a speedy cure. -My summer vacations no longer called me to the Passaic River to cut -kindling-wood, nor to the Hackensack meadows to strain my back to -the utmost trying to keep up with experienced mowers. Coaching lame -ducks was incomparably more remunerative and also left me with plenty -of leisure time for tennis, horseback riding, or swimming and diving -contests. During the college sessions I usually had in charge several -bad cases of academic lameness, cases that could not be cured during -the summer vacations, but had to be carefully nursed throughout the -whole academic year. Financially I fared better than most of my young -professors, and I saved, looking ahead for the realization of a pet -dream of mine. My coaching experience was remunerative not only from -the material but also from the cultural side; it brought me in touch -with some of the best exponents of New York’s social life, where I -found a hearty welcome, a friendly sympathy, and many lessons which I -considered as among the most valuable acquisitions in my college life. -One of them deserves special mention here. - -Lewis Morris Rutherfurd, a trustee of Columbia College, was at that -time the head of the famous Rutherfurd family. He was a gentleman of -leisure and devoted himself to science and particularly to photographic -astronomy, just as did his famous friend, Doctor John William Draper, -the author of the “History of the Intellectual Development of Europe.” -Rutherfurd was a pioneer worker in this field of astronomy, and his -photographs of the moon and of the stars were always regarded by the -scientists of the world as most valuable contributions to astronomy. -The historic Rutherfurd mansion, with its astronomical observatory, -was on Eleventh Street and Second Avenue. Rutherfurd’s sons, Lewis and -Winthrop, were my fellow students at Columbia; Lewis was a year ahead -of me and Winthrop was a year below me. Through their cousin, a chum -and classmate of mine, I became acquainted with them. No handsomer boys -ever sat in Hamilton Hall: tall, athletic, and graceful, just like -two splendid products of the physical culture of classical Greece. -One of them held the American championship in racquets, and the Long -Island hunt clubs counted them among their best steeplechase riders. -Lewis just squeezed his way through college, but Winthrop, owing to -circumstances beyond his control, threatened to drop by the academic -roadside; the load of some seven conditions was too heavy and too -discouraging. - -My chum, Winthrop’s cousin mentioned above, was a brilliant raconteur, -and he used to spin out with wonderful skill many a funny tale about -my coaching experiences, describing in a grotesque manner how an -audacious youngster, straying over here from a Serbian peasant village, -was bullying young aristocrats of New York, and how these aristocrats -were submitting to it like little lambs. Rutherfurd, senior, who was -my chum’s uncle, heard some of these humorous tales. He enjoyed them -hugely, and they suggested to him a scheme for diminishing somewhat -his son’s heavy load of conditions. He and his family were to spend -the summer of 1882 in Europe, and he suggested that Winthrop and I go -to his country place, where we could rule supreme and spend the summer -preparing for Winthrop’s autumn examinations. Winthrop consented, in -order to please his family, and he agreed to the definite programme of -work which I prescribed. Rutherfurd, senior, was anxious that Winthrop -should breathe the atmosphere of Columbia College for four years, even -if he should not get the full benefit of the college curriculum. He -had a view of college education which was somewhat novel to me and -made me understand more clearly the question which the captain of the -freshman crew had addressed to me in my freshman year: “Study, work -for a living, no participation in college activities outside of the -recitation rooms! Do you call that college training?” But I shall -return to this a little later. - -“Winthrop is very fond of you,” said Rutherfurd, senior, before he -sailed for Europe, “and if you fail to pull him through, that will be -the end of his college career. Your job is a difficult one, almost -hopeless, but if you should succeed you would place me under a very -great obligation.” I was already under great obligations to him, for he -had disclosed a view of the world of intellect before my eyes such as -nobody else ever had. New York never produced a finer type of gentleman -and scholar than was Lewis Rutherfurd. His personality impressed me -as Henry Ward Beecher’s had, and I could easily have persuaded myself -that he was the reincarnation of Benjamin Franklin. I vowed to spare no -effort in my attempts to “place” him “under a very great obligation.” - -Winthrop co-operated at first. But Winthrop’s friends at the Racquet -Club, at the Rockaway Hunt Club, and at Newport were puzzled, and they -inquired what strange influences kept Winthrop in monastic seclusion -at the Rutherfurd Stuyvesant estate in the backwoods of New Jersey. -Besides, a stableful of steeplechasers, which had won many prizes, -stood idle and looked in vain for their master, Winthrop, to train -them. Even the servants on the estate looked puzzled and could not -decipher the mysterious change that had come over their young autocrat. -A foreign-born youngster, a namesake of Michael, the Irish gardener on -the estate, seemed to be supreme in authority, and that puzzled the -servants still more. Winthrop was making great scholastic efforts, in -order to please his distinguished father, but he was a high-strung -youth and after a while his behavior began to suggest the fretting of -a thoroughbred protesting against the bit handled by the heavy touch -of an unskilled trainer. I saw a crisis approaching, and it finally -came. Winthrop suddenly refused to do another stroke of work unless the -programme of work was greatly modified to permit him to make occasional -trips to the Racquet Club, to the Rockaway Hunt Club, and to Newport. -I knew what that meant, and promptly refused; a hot discussion -followed, and some harsh words were spoken, resulting in a challenge -by Winthrop; I accepted and agreed that the best man was to have his -way during the remainder of the summer. Winthrop, the great racquet -player of America, the famous steeplechase rider of Long Island, and -the young aristocrat, kept his word, and responded eagerly to my calls -for additional scholastic efforts. He was a noble, handsome, and manly -American youth whose friendship I was proud to possess. - -In the autumn Winthrop got rid of most of his conditions, proceeded -with his class, and eventually graduated from Columbia in 1884. My -imaginative chum, Winthrop’s cousin, composed a great tale describing -this incident and called it: “A Serbian Peasant versus an American -Aristocrat.” Those who had the good fortune to enjoy the humor of this -tale (and among them was F. Marion Crawford, the novelist and cousin -of my chum) pronounced it a great literary accomplishment, and they -all agreed that Winthrop was the real hero of the story; he had played -the game like a thoroughbred. Mr. Rutherfurd, senior, enjoyed the tale -as much as anybody, and he was delighted with the result of our summer -work. Winthrop’s behavior did not surprise him, because, he assured -me, Winthrop played the game as every American gentleman’s son would -have played it. “Every one of your classmates,” exclaimed this trustee -of Columbia College, “would have done the same thing; or he would be -unworthy of a Columbia degree.” The first function of the American -college, according to him, was to train its students in the principles -of conduct becoming an American who is loyal to the best traditions of -his country. - -My senior year opened even more auspiciously than my sophomore or -my junior year had. Lewis Rutherfurd, trustee of Columbia College, -gentleman and scholar, and famous scientist, became my mentor. -Winthrop’s success was to place him under very great obligations to me, -he had said before he sailed for Europe in the spring, and after his -return his actions proved that he had meant even more than he had said. -A father could not have been more solicitous about my future plans than -he was, and his advice indicated that he understood my case much better -than I did myself. At the beginning of my senior year I was still -undecided as to what I was to do after graduation, and I began to feel -anxious; my mentor’s advice was most welcome, and it certainly was one -of the determining factors of my future plans. - - * * * * * - -In my preceding account of my preparations for college and of my -life in college there is much which sounds like a glorification of -muscle and of the fighting spirit. I feel almost like apologizing -for it, but do I really owe an apology? My whole life up to this -point of my story was steered by conditions which demanded muscle and -the fighting spirit. To pass six weeks during each one of several -summers as herdsman’s assistant in company with twelve other lively -Serb youngsters as fellow assistants, meant violent competitions in -wrestling, swimming, herdsman’s hockey, and other strenuous games for -hours and hours each day, and one’s position in this lively community -depended entirely upon muscle and the fighting spirit. Magyarism in -Panchevo and Teutonism in Prague produced a reaction which appealed -to muscle and to the fighting spirit, which finally drove me to the -land of Lincoln. Muscle and the fighting spirit of the bootblacks and -newsboys on Broadway met me on the very first day when I ventured -to pass beyond the narrow confines of Castle Garden, in order to -catch my first glimpse of the great American metropolis. No sooner -had I finished serving my apprenticeship as greenhorn, and advanced -to a higher civic level, than I encountered again muscle and the -fighting spirit of the college boys. In the beginning of my college -career I found very little difference between the pasture-lands of my -native village and the campus of the American college. The spirit of -playfulness and the ferment of life in the hearts of youth were the -same in both, and were manifested in the same way, namely, in athletics -which encourage a glorification of muscle and of the fighting spirit. -This was most fortunate for me, because it offered me a wide avenue -by which I could enter with perfect ease into that wonderful activity -called college life. Other avenues existed, but to a Serbian youth who -but a few years before had been a herdsman’s assistant these other -avenues were practically closed. I have described the avenue which -was open to me, but with no intention to indulge in an egotistical -glorification of that avenue. - -Rutherfurd, my mentor, scholar, scientist, and trustee of Columbia -College, did not believe as some people do that athletics would ever -cause our colleges to degenerate into gladiatorial schools. Athletics -in the form of wrestling and boxing did not interfere in the least -with my scholarship. Healthy young people and healthy young nations -are prone to worship the heroic element in human life, thought trustee -Rutherfurd, and, according to him, the Greeks, by the art of physical -culture, prevented this exuberance of youth from degenerating into -brutality. He was longing forty years ago, and I am still longing -to-day, for the time when American colleges will have a four years’ -course in physical culture, conducted by medical and athletic experts. -His sons, he thought, practised this art by their devotion to the game -of racquets and of steeplechase riding. They were splendid athletes, -but nevertheless they were mellow-hearted and gentle youths. The fact -that their scholarship was not high did not disturb their learned -father, because much of his own scholarship and scientific learning, -he told me, had been acquired long after he had graduated from Williams -College. - -Many of my fellow students were, just like myself, very fond of -athletics and of other activities outside of the college curriculum, -and yet we were enthusiastic students of Greek literature, of history -and economics, of constitutional history of the United States, and of -English literature. But here was the secret: Professor Merriam was a -wonderful expounder of the great achievements of Greek civilization; -Professor Monroe Smith made every one of us feel that history was an -indispensable part of our daily life; Professor Richmond Mayo-Smith -made us believe that political economy was one of the most important -subjects in the world; and Professor Burgess’ lectures on the -Constitutional History of the United States made us all imagine that -we understood the spirit of 1776 just as well as Hamilton did. These -professors were the great scholars of Columbia College when I was a -student there, and they had most attractive personalities too. The -personality of the professors, like that of the famous Van Amringe, -and their learning, like that of the venerable President Barnard, -were the best safeguards for students who showed a tendency to -devote themselves too much to the worship of muscle and the fighting -spirit, and of activities outside of the college curriculum. Fill -your professorial chairs in colleges with men of broad learning, and -of commanding personality, and do not worry about the alleged evil -influences of athletics, and of other college activities outside of -the recitation-room. That was the recommendation of trustee Rutherfurd -forty years ago; to-day I add: the college needs great professors just -as much as the various research departments of a university need them; -perhaps even more. - -Literary societies, college journalism, glee-club practice, and -exercises in the dramatic art consumed, when I was a college student, -just as much of the college student’s time as athletics did. They -and athletics constituted the outside college activities. The -recitation-room brought the student into touch with the personalities -of the professors; college activities outside of the recitation-room, -whether they were athletics or anything else, brought the student -into touch with the personalities of his fellow students. Each one -of these influences had, according to the experiences of my college -life, its own great value, and contributed its distinct share to what -is usually called the character-forming of the college student, but -what Rutherfurd, the Columbia College trustee, called training in the -principles of conduct becoming an American who is loyal to the best -traditions of his country. Neither one nor the other influence can be -weakened without crippling seriously that great object which trustee -Rutherfurd called “the historical mission of the American college.” - -There was another educational activity which should be mentioned -here. My regular attendance at Plymouth Church I considered one of -my most important college activities outside of the recitation-room. -Beecher’s sermons and Booth’s interpretations of Shakespeare were -sources of stirring inspiration. They occupied a very high place among -my spiritual guides. Beecher, Booth, and several other men of genius -who were active in New York in those days were, as far as my college -training was concerned, members of the Columbia College faculty. This -is what I probably meant when I said to my friends at the Adelphi -Academy that “Columbia College in the City of New York” was the port -for which I was sailing and that Beecher’s church in Brooklyn was a -component part of Columbia College. Taking college activities in this -broader sense I always believed that the spiritual, intellectual, and -artistic activities in the city of New York were component parts of -Columbia College; they certainly contributed much to the fulness of -my college life. I often wondered whether this was in the minds of -those who framed the official name “Columbia College in the City of New -York,” when the old name “King’s College” was abandoned in 1787. - - * * * * * - -I have nearly finished the story of my college career, and I am aware -that it is silent on a subject which was always dear to my heart; that -subject is science. A young lad who was stimulated so much by the lives -of the men represented in the Cooper Union library painting, entitled -“Men of Progress”; by the splendid scientific exhibits in Philadelphia -in 1876; by Jim’s boiler-room demonstrations supplemented by Cooper -Union lectures on heat; by Tyndall’s and Hunt’s poetic descriptions of -scientific achievements; and above all by his own visions concerning -physical phenomena on the pasture-lands of his native village--that lad -goes through college, and the story of his college career is nearly -closed without saying anything about his scientific studies at Columbia -College! That certainly looks strange, and suggests the inference that -after all Bilharz had finally succeeded in tearing me away completely -from what he called the worship of scientific materialism. Bilharz did -not succeed in that, but what he actually did is worth relating here. - -After my departure from Cortlandt Street, Bilharz felt quite lonesome -and tried to get companionship and consolation from a Tyrolean zither -which he managed well in spite of his stiff fingers. Knowing my -fondness for Homer’s heroic verse and for the lyric verse in the chorus -of Greek dramas, he practised reciting them with zither accompaniment. -He thus imitated most successfully a Serbian guslar’s recitations of -old Serbian ballads, accompanied by the single-string instrument, -called _gusle_. In recognition of the success of his clever scheme, -which, I was sure, he had devised for my special benefit, I called him -the Greek guslar. He who has seen huge multitudes of Serbs assembled -around a blind guslar in the midst of some great festive gathering, -listening by the hour in spellbound silence to his recitations, will -understand how Bilharz managed to attract me to many a neighborhood -gathering on the top loft of the Cortlandt Street factory. Every -time I listened to the zither accompanying his chanting of familiar -Greek verses I imagined that Baba Batikin’s spirit was transferred -from the little peasant village of Idvor to the great metropolis of -America! Whenever I told him that, he seemed to be immensely pleased, -because the life of a blind guslar appealed to him much. Professor -Merriam was certainly a great Greek scholar, but Bilharz was a great -Greek guslar, and when he chanted the verses of the Iliad with zither -accompaniment I was tempted to imagine that he was a reincarnation of -Homer. Between Bilharz and Merriam I could not help devoting much of -my time in college to the study of Greek. I have never regretted it, -but I do regret that the academic halls of the American colleges of -to-day do not resound any more with that solemn Greek rhythm which I -first heard on the top loft of the Cortlandt Street factory. Bilharz -disappeared from Cortlandt Street a short time before I graduated, and -he left me his zither as a souvenir, and also an old edition of Homer’s -Iliad by the famous German philologist Dindorf. I have not seen him -since that time, but I shall never forget him. He was the first to call -my attention to an old and magnificent civilization, the spiritual -beauty of which appealed to my young imagination with increasing force -as my knowledge of it increased. I often recall his almost fanatical -dislike of mechanisms, and wonder what he would say to-day if he -heard the pianola, the phonograph, and some of the distortions of -radio broadcasting, to say nothing of the dramatic atrocities of the -kinematograph! - -On the other hand, the growth of my understanding from the first day -of my landing at Castle Garden was due to my feeding upon the spiritual -food offered to me daily by a civilization in which I was living, and -which I wished to understand but did not understand. My preparation -for college lifted here and there the mist which prevented my vision -from seeing the clear outline of American civilization. Columbia -College brought me into touch with the college life of American boys -and with men of great learning and wonderful personalities, and they -helped me to dispel every particle of that mist, and there in the clear -sunshine of their learning I saw the whole image of what I believed to -be American civilization: a beautiful daughter of a beautiful mother, -which is the Anglo-Saxon civilization. The memory of this vision always -recalled to my mind the ode of Horace which opens with the line: - - “O matre pulchra filia pulchrior!” - -The study and the contemplation of these two civilizations, the ancient -civilization of Greece and the new civilization of the Anglo-Saxons, -which appealed to me as the two greatest civilizations of human -history, made every other study in my college curriculum appear -insignificant, although I gained several prizes in the exact sciences, -and although I never gave up the idea that my future work would be in -the field of science. - -But there is another and perhaps the most potent reason why science -figures so little in the preceding part of the story of my college -career. Instruction in the exact sciences in those days was most -elementary, not only at Columbia College but also in most American -colleges. For instance, laboratory work in physics and in chemistry was -not a part of the Columbia College curriculum, and the lecture-room -told me less about physics than I had known from my studies of -Tyndall’s popular publications and from the Cooper Union instruction -before I entered college. The question “What is Light?” I brought with -me from the pasture-lands of my native village, and the professor of -physics at Columbia College offered no answer to it except to refer to -vibrations in an ether, the physical properties of which he admitted -he could not satisfactorily describe. On this point he did not seem -to be much wiser than my humble teacher Kos in Panchevo. My mentor, -Rutherfurd, was always interested in this question, as in many other -advanced questions in science, and he took much delight in discussing -them with me. He was the first to inform me that the great question, -“What is Light?” would probably be answered when we understood more -clearly a new electrical theory advanced by a Scotch physicist, Maxwell -by name, who was a pupil of the great Faraday. - -One day toward the end of my senior year I told my mentor, Rutherfurd, -of a lecture-room experiment performed by Rood, his friend, at that -time professor of physics at Columbia College. This experiment was the -first announcement to me that Faraday was one of the great discoverers -in electrical science. The experiment was simplicity itself, and -consisted of a loose coil of copper wire, held in the left hand of the -lecturing professor, the terminals of the coil being connected to a -galvanometer supported on the wall of the lecture-room, so that its -needle could be seen by every student in the room. When Rood, like -a magician manipulating a wand, moved with his right hand a small -magnet toward the coil, the distant galvanometer needle, impelled by -a force which up to that time was a mystery to me, swung violently in -one direction, and when the magnet was moved away from the coil the -galvanometer needle swung just as violently in the opposite direction. -When one terminal, only, of the coil was connected to the galvanometer, -and thus the electric circuit of the coil was broken, the motion of -the magnet produced no effect. “_This is Faraday’s discovery of -Electromagnetic Induction._” said Rood with a deep sigh, and ended -the lecture without any further comment, as if he wished to give me -a chance to think it over before he added additional information. -Rutherfurd knew Rood’s picturesque mannerism, and my description of -the experiment amused him. He suggested that the good professor was -very fond of mystifying his students. I certainly was much mystified -and did not wait for the next lecture to clear the mystery, but spent -all day and most of the night reading about Faraday’s wonderful -discovery. It was made over fifty years before that time, but I had -never known anything about it, although Edison’s dynamos in his New -York Pearl Street station had been supplying for over a year thousands -of customers with electric power for incandescent lighting. Columbia -College was not one of these customers for a long time after my -graduation. When I finished my description of the experiment, and -assured Rutherfurd that it was the most thrilling physical phenomenon -that I had ever seen, and that I had remained awake almost all night -after seeing it, he looked pleased, and informed me that this very -phenomenon was the basis of Maxwell’s new Electrical Theory. - -That was the experiment which helped me to decide a very weighty -question. Professor Rood had informed me that in recognition of my high -standing in science as well as in letters I could choose either of two -graduate fellowships, one in letters or one in science, each worth -five hundred dollars a year. Either would have meant an additional -three years of graduate study at Columbia. I was much tempted to turn -to letters and continue my work with Merriam, the idol of all Columbia -College students, including myself, who had felt the wonderful charm -of his personality and of his profound and at the same time most -picturesque classical scholarship. But the magic experiment which -had told me the first story of Faraday’s great discoveries, and had -aroused my dormant enthusiasm for physics, caused me to bid good-by -to Merriam and turn to science, my first love. Nevertheless, I did -not accept the fellowship in science and stay three years longer at -Columbia; I preferred to take up the study of Faraday and of Maxwell -in the United Kingdom, where these two great physicists were born -and where they had made their great discoveries. Trustee Rutherfurd -and his young nephew, my chum and classmate, John Armstrong Chanler, -applauded my decision, and promised to assist me in my undertaking -whenever assistance should be needed. Rutherfurd assured me that I -should certainly succeed as well in my scientific studies in European -universities as I had succeeded in my general cultural studies at -Columbia College, if the revelations of the new world of physics, -certainly in store for me, could arouse in me the same enthusiasm which -had been aroused by the revelations of that new spirit and that new -current of thought which had given birth to the American civilization. -That this enthusiasm would not be wanting was amply demonstrated, he -said, by the effect which Faraday’s fundamental experiment had produced -in my imagination. - -[Illustration: PHOTOGRAPH OF PUPIN TAKEN IN 1883 WHEN HE GRADUATED -AT COLUMBIA] - -Professor Burgess, my teacher in constitutional history, had assured -me, toward the end of the senior year, that I was fully prepared for -American citizenship, and I had applied for my naturalization papers. -I received them on the day before I was graduated. Two ceremonies -which are recorded in my life as two red-letter days took place on two -successive days; it is instructive to give here a brief comparison -between them. The ceremony which made me a citizen of the United States -took place in a dingy little office in one of the municipal buildings -in City Hall Park. I received my diploma of Bachelor of Arts in the -famous old Academy of Music on Fourteenth Street on the following -day. There was nobody in the naturalization office to witness the -naturalization ceremony except myself and a plain little clerk. The -graduation ceremonies in the Academy of Music were presided over by -the venerable President Barnard; his luxuriant snowy-white locks and -long beard, and his luminous intelligence beaming from every feature -of his wonderful face, gave him the appearance of Moses, as Michael -Angelo represents him; and the academy was crowded with a distinguished -and brilliant audience. The little clerk in the office handed me my -naturalization papers in an offhand manner, thinking, apparently, -of nothing but the fee due from me. President Barnard, knowing of -my high standing in the graduating class and of my many struggles -to get there, beamed with joy when he handed me my diploma amidst -the applause of my numerous friends in the audience. When I left the -naturalization office, carrying my precious multicolored and very -ornate naturalization papers, the crowd in City Hall Park was moving -about as though nothing had happened; but when I stepped down from the -academy stage, with my Columbia diploma in hand, my old friend Doctor -Shepard handed me a basket of roses with the best wishes of his family -and of Henry Ward Beecher; Mr. and Mrs. Lukanitch were there, and the -old lady kissed me, shedding tears copiously and assuring me that if my -mother were there to see how well I looked in my academic silk gown she -also would have shed many a tear of joy; numerous other friends were -there and made much fuss over me, but all those things served only to -increase the painful contrast between the gay commencement ceremonies -and the prosy procedure of my naturalization on the preceding day. One -ceremony made me only a Bachelor of Arts. The other made me a citizen -of the United States. Which of the two should have been more solemn? - -There was a picture which I had conjured up in my imagination when -first I walked one day from the Cortlandt Street factory to Wall -Street to see the site of old Federal Hall. The picture was that of -Chancellor Livingston administering the constitutional oath of office -to President Washington. To me it was a picture of the most solemn -historical act which New York or any other place in the world ever had -witnessed. When the little clerk in the naturalization office handed me -my naturalization papers, and called upon me in a perfunctory way to -promise that I would always be loyal to the Constitution of the United -States, the picture of that historical scene in Federal Hall suddenly -reappeared to me, and a strange mental exaltation made my voice tremble -as I responded: “I will, so help me God!” The little clerk noticed -my emotion, but did not understand it, because he did not know of my -long-continued efforts throughout a period of nine years to prepare -myself for citizenship of the United States. - - * * * * * - -As I sat on the deck of the ship which was taking me to the -universities of Europe, and watched its eagerness to get away from the -busy harbor of New York, I thought of the day when, nine years before, -I had arrived on the immigrant ship. I said to myself: “Michael Pupin, -the most valuable asset which you carried into New York harbor nine -years ago was your knowledge of, and profound respect and admiration -for, the best traditions of your race ... the most valuable asset which -you are now taking with you from New York harbor is your knowledge of, -and profound respect and admiration for, the best traditions of your -adopted country.” - - - - -V - -FIRST JOURNEY TO IDVOR IN ELEVEN YEARS - - -It was a beautiful June afternoon when from the gay deck of the _State -of Florida_ I saw the low coast-line of Long Island disappear in the -distance. With it disappeared the land the first glimpse of which I -had caught so eagerly on that sunny March morning nine years before, -when the immigrant ship _Westphalia_ carried me into New York harbor. -As I had approached this coast my busy imagination had suggested that -it was the edge of the cover of a great and mysterious book which I -had to read and decipher. I had read it for nine long years, and my -belief that I had deciphered it made me confident that I was quite rich -in learning. Besides, there were my Bachelor of Arts diploma and my -naturalization papers; and, of course, I thought, they were the best -evidence in the world that I was returning to see my mother again rich -in learning and in academic honors, as I had promised her nine years -before in that letter from Hamburg. - -The sky was clear, the sea was smooth, and its sharp and even horizon -line toward which the ship was heading promised a peaceful temper of -the powers which controlled the motions of the air above and of the -waters below our ship. The comforts of the ship and the fair prospects -of a fine voyage were recorded in the smiling faces of my fellow -passengers. A group of lively schoolgirls from Washington, making -their first trip to Europe under the guidance of an old professor with -long gray hair and shaggy beard, looked like so many nymphs playing -around a drowsy Neptune. They formed the central group of the happy -passengers. There were a number of college boys on board. Some of -them had friends among the Washington nymphs; by clever manœuvring it -was arranged that the college boys, including myself, should sit at -the same table with the playful nymphs. The gray-locked professor, -whom I called Father Neptune (and the title stuck to him), was -somewhat reluctant at first, but finally he gave his consent to this -“wonderful” proposition, as the girls called it, and he sat at the -head of the table, presiding with a dignity which fully demonstrated -that he deserved the title “Father Neptune.” The jolly captain assured -us that his good old ship never carried a more exuberant company of -youngsters across the Atlantic. But this was not the fierce Atlantic -which I had seen nine years before. It was an Atlantic which apparently -studied to please and to amuse. All kinds of pleasant things happened -during the voyage, as if arranged purposely for our amusement. Many -schools of porpoises approached the merry ship, and I suggested that -they visited us in order to pay their respects to Father Neptune and -his beautiful nymphs. This suggestion was accepted with vociferous -acclamation, and it was agreed that free play be granted to our -imaginations. Let your fancy take any course at your own risk, was -our motto. When the visiting porpoises hustled off like a squadron -of reconnoitring horsemen leaping gaily over the smooth waves, as if -in a merry steeplechase, it was suggested by one of the girls with a -lively imagination that they were anxious to report to the chief of -staff of a great host which, hidden in the depths of the quiescent -Atlantic, controlled the ocean waves. She, the oracle, as we called -her, prophesied that when these heralds had delivered the report that -Father Neptune and his fair nymphs were passing in triumphal procession -through their watery realm, then all things in the heavens above and in -the sea below would bow to the will of Neptune and his playful crew. - -Two spouting whales appeared one day in the distance, and our busy -imaginations suggested that they were two men-o’-war, sent by the -friendly submarine host to pay their homage to Neptune and his nymphs, -and to serve as escort to our speedy ship. Nothing happened which did -not receive a fanciful interpretation by our playful imaginations. -The wonderful phosphorescence of the waves, which were ploughed up -in the smooth sea by the gliding ship, supported the illusion that -our voyage was a triumphal procession along an avenue illuminated -by the mysterious phosphorescent glow. We were headed for Scotland, -by a route which passed to the north of Ireland, and as our course -approached the northern latitudes the luminous twilights of the North -Atlantic made us almost forget that there ever was such a thing as a -dark night. Good old Neptune had quite a job to round up his nymphs in -the late hours of the evening and make them turn in and exchange the -joys of the busy days for the blessings of the restful nights. His job -was hopeless when the northern midnights displayed the awe-inspiring -streamers of the northern lights, and that happened quite frequently. -Those wonderful sights in themselves would have made it worth while -crossing the Atlantic. On such evenings the exuberance of the college -boys and of the schoolgirls from Washington was wide awake until after -midnight, watching the luminous and continuously changing streamers of -the polar regions, telling stories, and singing college songs. These -evenings reminded me much of the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor. One -of them was devoted to original stories; each member of the gay party -had to spin out an original tale. My story was called “Franciscus of -Freiburg,” and it referred to Bilharz, the Greek guslar of Cortlandt -Street. The disappointments of his youth, the calm resignation with -which in his more mature years he passed his hermit days on a top loft -in Cortlandt Street, and his search for consolation in the poetry of -Rome and Greece made quite an impression; and to my great surprise -there was not a single giggle on the part of the irrepressible nymphs. -This was the first story that I ever composed, and it made a hit, -but its success was completely ruined when, prompted by modesty, I -suggested that any tale describing disappointments in love is sure to -be taken very seriously and sympathetically by young girls. A violent -protest was filed by the girls, and I pleaded guilty of the offense -of disturbing public peace. A mock trial, with Father Neptune as the -presiding judge, condemned me and imposed the fine that I tell at once, -and without preparation, another original tale. I described the first -speech of my life on St. Sava’s day, some thirteen years earlier, and -its unexpected effect upon my mischievous chums in Idvor, comparing -it with the unexpected effect of my Franciscus story. I regretted it, -because the fairies from Washington had an endless chain of questions -about Idvor and my prospective visit to it. Never before had I had -a better opportunity to observe the beautiful relationship between -American boys and girls. Its foundation I recognized to be the idea of -the big brother looking after the safety, comfort, and happiness of -his sister, the same idea which is glorified in the Serbian national -ballads. - -One pleasant incident followed another in quick succession during -our triumphant procession over the northern Atlantic, and all the -powers which control the temper of the ocean were most kind and -generous to us, just as our fair oracle had prophesied it. When the -cliffs of Scotland hove in sight, reminding us that our voyage was -approaching its end, there was no thrill of joy such as there was -when the immigrant ship, which first took me into New York harbor, -approached the Long Island coast. Not even the countless sea-gulls -which gracefully circled around the black cliffs, and with their shrill -notes welcomed us to the hospitable shores of Scotland, were able to -dispel the gloom which the sight of land produced among the members of -Neptune’s table. Nobody in our congenial company seemed to be anxious -to say good-by to the good old ship and to the golden atmosphere of the -sweet-tempered Atlantic. Most of them had never crossed the Atlantic -before, and since the voyage was practically over I thought that -there was no harm in describing to them some of the terrors of the -Atlantic, which I had experienced when I crossed it nine years before. -The pictures of those experiences were like the pictures from another -world, and not from the same Atlantic which thrilled us with its -sunshine, twilight, phosphorescent glows, and glorious streamers of the -northern lights. The comparison between my wretched fellow passengers -on the storm-tossed immigrant ship and the radiant company on the ship -which brought us to Scotland afforded me a splendid opportunity to -thank Father Neptune for permitting me to join his beautiful court. -His favor, I said, was almost as great as the favor of the immigrant -officials at Castle Garden, who had allowed me to land with only five -cents in my pocket. The professor complimented me upon my word pictures -which showed the glaring contrasts between the two voyages, and then -he referred to two pictures which, he said, he had in his mind. They -also showed, he said, in glaring contrasts, the difference between a -certain youngster on the immigrant ship to which I referred, and a -Columbia College graduate, who had contributed his share to the comfort -and happiness of Neptune’s court. When he suggested that he would give -much to be with me when I met my mother, and that he wondered whether -she would recognize me, my young friends suggested, quite seriously, -that they would all go to Idvor if I joined them in their continental -tour. I replied that their tour was along a meandering line through the -great places of Europe, whereas mine was a straight line from Greenock -to little Idvor, so little that it cannot be found on any map. - -There was just one thing which delayed my straight-line journey to -Idvor. A visit to Cambridge was necessary in order to arrange for my -work at this university during the coming academic year, and I lost -no time in reaching it. The sight of the Firth of Clyde, with its -wonderfully green slopes, of Greenock, of Glasgow, and even of London -made feeble impressions. My mind was centred upon one thought only: -the speedy return to Idvor. This also explains why my first sight of -Cambridge impressed me much less than my first sight of Princeton when, -eight years before, I had enjoyed my loaf of bread under an elm-tree -in front of Nassau Hall. F. Marion Crawford, the novelist, had given -me a letter of introduction to Oscar Browning, a fellow of King’s -College; and George Rives, the late chairman of the Board of Trustees -of Columbia University, had given me a letter to W. D. Niven, a fellow -of Trinity College. Rives, after graduating at Columbia College, won a -prize scholarship in classics at Trinity College, and gained there many -scholastic honors. - - * * * * * - -The man at the ancient gate of King’s College informed me that Mr. -Oscar Browning was away on his summer vacation. At Trinity College I -had better luck, and the man at the still more ancient gate of Trinity -College took me to Mr. Niven, who reminded me much of Professor -Merriam, the great Greek scholar of Columbia College; the same kindly -expression of a most intelligent face, and the same gentle light from -two thoughtful eyes. As I looked into his eyes I felt that I was -catching a glimpse of a world full of those beautiful things which -make life worth living. I informed Niven that I wished to come to -Cambridge and study under Professor James Clerk Maxwell, the creator of -the new electrical theory. Niven looked puzzled and asked me who had -told me of this new theory, and when I mentioned Rutherfurd, he asked -me what Rutherfurd had told me about it. “That it will probably give -a satisfactory answer to the question: ‘What is Light?’” I answered, -and watched for his reaction. “Did not Mr. Rutherfurd tell you that -Clerk Maxwell died four years ago?” asked Niven, and when I said no, -he asked me whether I had not seen it in the preface to the second -edition of Maxwell’s great book which Niven himself had edited. This -question embarrassed me, and I confessed frankly that Rutherfurd’s son, -my chum Winthrop, had presented me with this book on the day of the -sailing of my ship; that it was packed away in my bags; and that I did -not have any time to examine it during the voyage, because I was too -busy helping to entertain twelve beautiful schoolgirls from Washington, -who were making their first trip to Europe. Niven laughed heartily and -admitted, jokingly, that twelve beautiful girls from Washington were -certainly more attractive than any theory, not excepting even Maxwell’s -great electrical theory. He suggested then that I could study at -Cambridge under Lord Rayleigh, who had succeeded Maxwell as professor -of physics. I declined the suggestion on the ground that I had never -heard of Lord Rayleigh before. Niven laughed again, even more heartily -than before, and assured me that Lord Rayleigh was a great physicist -in spite of the fact that his great fame had never reached my ears. -An English lord a great physicist! The idea struck me as strange, but -Niven looked so friendly and so sincere that I could not help believing -that he really meant what he said. He invited me to lunch, and before -we parted I assured him that I would come back to Cambridge in the -following October and place myself under his guidance. - -This conference with Niven sobered me up very considerably; it -convinced me that my great aspiration and my small preparation in -physics were far from being of the same order of magnitude. I confessed -to Niven that my success in winning prizes in science at Columbia -College had led to my belief that I knew more physics than I really -did. “Confession is a splendid thing for the soul,” said Niven, and -added: “But do not permit that anything I have said dampen your -courage. A physicist needs courage, and few mortals were braver than -Maxwell. The world knows only a little of his great electrical theory, -but it knows even less of his great moral courage.” He gave me a copy -of Campbell’s life of Maxwell; I read it from cover to cover before -I left London, and it contributed much to the learning which I had -promised to bring to Idvor. It certainly convinced me that Maxwell had -a vastly better knowledge of physics when he graduated at Cambridge -than I had picked up at Columbia. That gave me much healthy food for -serious thought. - -A straight line from London to Idvor passes through Switzerland, and I -proposed to follow that line in my journey as closely as practicable. -My ticket took me from London to Lucerne directly; the journey from -Lucerne to Idvor I left undetermined until I reached Lucerne. I had -no time nor inclination to explore the wonders of London, Paris, or -of any other great place in Europe before I had seen Idvor again. -Mother, Idvor, and Maxwell’s new electrical theory had brought me to -Europe, and I wished to see them as soon as possible, and in the order -named; everything else could wait. Besides, I sincerely believed that -these places had little to offer to a fellow like me, who knew the -great things of New York. I was much disposed to look down upon things -in Europe, a mental attitude which is not uncommon among American -immigrants when they go back to pay a temporary visit to Europe. I had -it quite strongly, but sobering experiences like the conference with -Niven in Cambridge helped me to apply suitable correction factors to -this mental attitude. The following brief description of one of these -experiences bears upon this point. - - * * * * * - -The London-Lucerne train crossed the Franco-Swiss frontier very early -in the morning, somewhere near Neuchâtel. The delay necessary for the -rearrangement of the train gave the passengers ample time to enjoy -their breakfast in the garden of the station restaurant. A look to -the east caught a sight which made me almost forget my breakfast. -The distant snow-covered Alps, bathed in the early sunshine and -projected against the background of the luminous blue sky of a July -morning, furnished a picture never to be forgotten. I had never seen -the Alps before, and this first view of them was of overpowering -beauty. An Englishman, a fellow traveller, sitting opposite me at the -breakfast-table, noticed my mental exaltation, and asked: “You have -never seen the Alps before, have you?” “No,” said I. “Oh, what a lucky -lad you are!” said the Englishman, adding that he would give much to be -in my place. He confessed that he had to climb the peaks of the Alps in -order to get those thrills which in former days, when he was of my age, -he got by looking at them from the valleys below. At his suggestion -we continued our journey to Lucerne in the same compartment, and the -stories of his climbing exploits stirred up mightily my imagination, -which was already throbbing under the inspiration of the Alpine view -which had greeted me that morning. When I informed him that I was in -a hurry to reach my native village of Idvor, otherwise I might try -some climbing myself, he assured me that a ten days’ delay in Lucerne -would suffice to prepare me for climbing one of the lesser peaks, and -he mentioned Titlis, not far from Lucerne. He prescribed the training -which would provide me with sufficiently steady Alpine legs. From the -peak of the Titlis, he said, I could see old Switzerland where the -famous legend was born which relates how Tell drove the fear of God -into the hearts of the Austrians. I always loved that legend, perhaps -because I did not love the Austrian tyrants. When the train had -reached Lucerne I saw the wonderful Alpine panorama spread out like an -amphitheatre of snow-covered Alpine peaks around its deep-blue lake, -and I knew that in spite of my great haste to reach Idvor I would not -leave this fairy-land before I had reached the snow-covered peak of -Titlis. - -I immediately hired a rowboat for a week, and, clad in a rowing shirt -with blue and white Columbia stripes and thin tennis trousers, I spent -that afternoon exploring the beauty spots of the meandering shore of -the historic lake. The joy of rowing and the busy rays of the July sun -made me yield to the invitation of the clear waters of the lake to -plunge in and hug the waves, which once upon a time carried Tell to -safety after he had sent his arrow through the heart of the Austrian -tyrant, Gessler. As if imitating the example of Tell, I jumped in -just as I was, trusting that subsequent rowing and the sun would dry -my scanty attire, and they did. A glorious feeling of freedom from -all earthly restraints came over me as, floating on my back, I beheld -the blue sky above and the snow-covered peaks around me. It was the -same sky and the same luminous peaks, I thought, which five hundred -years before saw William Tell chase away the Austrian tyrants from -the historic cantons surrounding the lake; from Uri, Schwyz, and -Unterwalden. I felt that I was floating in the very cradle where real -freedom first saw the light of day. No other spot on earth was more -worthy of that immortal fame. My admiration for it never faded after -that memorable July afternoon. Europe rose in my estimation; I was -much less inclined to look down upon things European. - -The next day I was up very early, feeling “as a strong man ready to -run a race,” the same feeling which I had experienced at Castle Garden -when, nine years before, I woke up early in the morning and hurried -off to catch my first glimpse of the great American metropolis. I -was just as anxious to hurry off and catch from some mountain-top my -first glimpse of Switzerland. Mindful of the suggestions of my English -acquaintance on the train, I started with the easiest climb, the Rigi -Culm. It is a very easy effort, but I made it difficult by rowing first -some ten miles to Weggis, going up to the Rigi and walking down, and -then rowing back to Lucerne again on the same day, in the waning hours -of the afternoon. An unexpected squall upset my boat, and I had quite -a struggle to get back to Lucerne, very late in the evening. The hotel -proprietor noticed my mussed-up appearance, but said nothing, seeing -that I was not in a communicative mood. - -The same strenuous method of preparatory training for the Titlis climb -took me up to Mount Pilatus on the next day. But I was not allowed to -return on the same day on account of a fierce thunder-storm raging -in the valley below, which I watched from the top of the Pilatus. -The innkeeper congratulated me upon my rare luck, not only because I -had a chance to see the beautiful sight of a thunder-storm as viewed -from a point above the thundering clouds, but principally because -this thunder-storm prevented me from running the serious risk of -descending and rowing back to Lucerne on the same day. Commenting upon -the overconfidence of youth, the innkeeper said that every person has -a guardian angel, but people intoxicated by wine or by exuberance of -youth have two, one on each side. That was his explanation for the -alleged fact, he said, that young people and intoxicated people seldom -meet with serious accidents in mountain climbing. Some Americans, he -thought, should have several guardian angels. This sarcasm was aimed at -me, and it did not miss its mark. - -Nevertheless, when on my fifth day in Lucerne I started out very -early for the Titlis, I adopted the same strenuous method: rowing to -Stansstadt, walking to Engelberg, and climbing to the hospice where I -arrived at 11 P. M. I reached at sunrise of the following morning the -top of Titlis, and saw the glories of Uri, Schwyz, and Unterwalden as -my English friend had promised. But I reached it much exhausted, and if -it had not been for the skilled assistance of my trusty Swiss guide, -the last four lines of Longfellow’s “Excelsior” would have described my -Titlis climb quite accurately. I quote the lines: - - “There in the twilight cold and gray, - Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, - And from the sky, serene and far, - A voice fell, like a falling star, - Excelsior!” - -Returning from Titlis, I ran into my English friend, and he remarked -that I looked a little overtrained. We dined together, and when I told -him the story of my six days’ Alpine experience, he begged me to hustle -off to Idvor and see my mother first, and then return if I cared to -pursue my own methods of exploring the beauties of Switzerland. “If -you continue pursuing these methods now, I am afraid that your mother -will never see you again, because there are not enough guardian angels -in all the heavens to prevent you from breaking your neck.” I agreed, -but assured him that my overstrenuous method of climbing Titlis was -worth the risk; it had humbled my vanity and false pride, and made me -more respectful to some of the slow ways of old Europe. It convinced -me that even after serving my apprenticeship as greenhorn in the -United States, I could still be a most verdant greenhorn in Europe. -The railroad journey from Lucerne to Vienna afforded me much leisure -time for philosophic reflections upon this matter. Thanks to Niven in -Cambridge and to my English friend in Lucerne, I reached Vienna with -a mental attitude considerably different from and certainly much less -exalted than that which I had taken along when I sailed from New York -four weeks before. - - * * * * * - -The railroad-station at Vienna where I took the train for Budapest -looked quite familiar, although I had seen it but once before. I did -not discover the great and mighty station-master who at my first -appearance there, eleven years before, nearly sent me back to the -prisons of the military frontier. The conductor, however, who called -me “Gnaediger Herr” (gracious sir), when near Gaenserndorf he asked me -for my first-class ticket, was the same man who, eleven years before, -had called me a Serbian swineherd. I recognized him easily, although he -looked very humble and had lost the fierceness which he had displayed -when he roughly pulled me off my seat on that memorable first railroad -journey from Budapest to Vienna. He failed to recall to memory the -Serbian boy with yellow sheepskin coat and cap and the gaily colored -bag. I gave him a generous tip as a reward for driving me into the arms -of my good American friends who had seen me safely landed in Prague, -and the memory of whose kind act had suggested my running off to the -land of Lincoln. - -“America is the land of rapid changes,” he said, when I told him that -I was that boy, and he added: “You must have changed much, looking -as you do like a real American; but we here and our dear old Austria -are like all old people; we do not change except to grow older and -more decrepit.” He expressed exactly what I felt as I looked to the -right and to the left of the train which was taking me to Budapest. -Everything seemed to move slowly, with the deliberate step of feeble -old age. Budapest looked small, and the suspension bridge, which had -nearly taken my breath away eleven years before, when I first saw it, -looked puny in comparison with the Brooklyn suspension bridge. - -I spent no time in looking around to explore the virtues of the Magyar -metropolis, but hustled, and presently I was on the boat which eleven -years before had brought me to Budapest. I could hardly believe that it -was the same boat. It must have shrunk incredibly, I thought, or else -my life in America had changed the vision of my eyes. Everything I saw -looked small and shrivelled up, and if I had not seen the snow-covered -giants of Switzerland as viewed from the top of Titlis, Europe itself -might have appeared to me as small and shrivelled up. - -When supper was served I noticed that everybody had atrocious table -manners, even people of high official rank, several of whom I -discovered among my fellow passengers. Eleven years before everybody -on the boat had looked so high and mighty that I was almost afraid -to look at them, but this time I was much tempted to imagine that -I was considerably above most of my fellow passengers. I resisted -the temptation. It was a good thing that my climbing of the Titlis -had nearly floored me; it suppressed much of that haughtiness which -naturalized American immigrants bring with them when they visit Europe. - - * * * * * - -The next morning I noticed a group of Serb students who were returning -home from the universities of Vienna and Budapest. They were from my -native Voyvodina, and not from Serbia, as I found out later. Their -appearance did not impress me very agreeably, but nevertheless I -quivered with delight when I heard their Serb language. They spoke -freely, although they must have noticed that they attracted my -attention. One of them remarked that I could pass for a Serb, if it -were not for my manner, my dress, and my very ruddy complexion. The -voyage across the Atlantic and a week’s tramping in Switzerland were -responsible for my exaggerated ruddiness. A second one thought that -young Serb peasants in Banat are just as ruddy, particularly during -the harvest season, but he admitted that my appearance did not suggest -that my occupation was that of a peasant. Another one suggested that -I was probably a rich South American with very much red Indian blood -in my veins. I laughed and, introducing myself, informed him, speaking -Serb with some difficulty, that I was neither a South American nor an -Indian, but just a Serb student who was a citizen of the United States. -A Serb from the United States was a very rare bird in those days and, -needless to say, I was invited most cordially to join the group, -which I did. Not one of them reminded me of the alert, well-groomed, -athletic, and playful American college boys. They all had long hair -brushed back in a careless fashion, affecting the appearance of dreamy -poets or disciples of radical doctrines. Most of them had slouch hats -with wide brims, indicating radical tendencies. Their faces looked -pale and suggested excessive indoor confinement in Vienna and Budapest -cafés, playing chess or cards, or discussing radical doctrines. Most -of them would have been hazed if they had matriculated in any American -college without modifying much their appearance and manner. They -certainly took themselves very seriously. They knew, I thought, many -things which they had read in books, principally in books dealing -with radical social-science theories. Tolstoy’s name was mentioned -quite often, and the latest apostles of socialistic doctrines also had -their share of adulation. They must have observed that conversation -about these things bored me, and they asked me, with some display -of sarcasm, I thought, whether American college students took any -interest in modern advanced thought. “They do,” said I, considerably -irritated, “and if it were not for Maxwell’s new electrical theory and -for other advanced theories in modern physics I should not have come -to your moribund old Europe.” “Advanced thought in social and not in -physical sciences,” they said, explaining their original question, -and I answered that the most popular American doctrine in social -science still rested upon foundations laid a hundred years before -that time, in a document called the Declaration of Independence. They -knew very little about it, and I knew even less about their radical -social-science theories, and we changed the subject of our conversation. - -Late in the afternoon the boat approached Karlovci and the hills of -Frushka Gora. I could not help reminiscing, and entertained my Serb -acquaintances with a description of my experiences with the theological -students eleven years before, including the disappearance of my roast -goose. My Serbian vocabulary was quite shaky, but nevertheless I -made quite a hit, and they begged me to go on with my reminiscences. -Whenever I was at a loss for a word, they helped me out. Toward sunset -Belgrade hove in sight, and its majestic appearance thrilled me and -made my Serb vocabulary run as smoothly as ever. I saluted Belgrade as -the acropolis of all the Serbs, and expressed the hope that it might -soon become the metropolis of all the southern Slavs. “This is the -kind of advanced thought in social and political science that American -students are interested in,” I said, reminding them of their former -question, and I added a few sarcastic remarks about advanced thoughts -in social and political science which are not born in the heart of -a nation but imported from the dens of French, German, and Russian -theorists. They quickly caught what I called the American point of -view, but they did not oppose it, for fear, I thought, of offending -me. They saw the American chip on my shoulder, and did not care to -knock it off. - -I had not seen Belgrade since I was a little boy, and as the boat -approached it I saw its high fort rising like a Gibraltar above -the waters of the Danube and looking anxiously across the endless -plains of Austria-Hungary, which, like wide-open jaws of a hungry -dragon, seemed to threaten to swallow it up. Everything I saw in -Austria-Hungary looked small and shrivelled up, but Belgrade looked -to me as if its proud head would touch the stars. The history of the -long-suffering Serb race was grouped around it, and that lifted it up -in my imagination to sublime heights. I was much tempted to stop there -and climb up to the top of Mount Avala, near Belgrade, and from there -send my greetings to heroic Serbia, just as I had sent my greetings to -heroic Switzerland from the top of snow-covered Titlis. But I was told -to look sharp if I wished to catch the last local boat to Panchevo, -and so I bade good-by and au revoir to white-towered Belgrade, as the -Serbian guslars call it. - -When the local boat arrived in Panchevo a delegation of young men, -including one of the Serb students who had come with me from Budapest, -transferred me to another boat, which was crowded with what looked like -a gay wedding-party. The singing society of Panchevo had chartered -this boat to take it and its friends to Karlovci, where a great -national gathering of Serbs was to take place on the following day. -The earthly remains of the great Serb poet Branko Radichevich were to -arrive there from Vienna, where, when still a youth, he died and had -been buried thirty years before. His body was to be transferred to and -buried near Karlovci, on Strazhilovo hill, which was glorified by his -immortal verses. His lyrics were messages to all Serbs, calling upon -them to nurse their traditions and prepare for their national reunion. -Representative Serbs from all parts of Serbdom were to assemble in -Karlovci to escort the earthly remains of the popular poet to his last -resting-place. I was to represent America, hence the invitation to join -the Panchevo delegation. Serb nationalism flamed up in my heart again. - -Our boat arrived at Karlovci in the early hours of the following -morning, and there we found many singing societies and delegates -from Voyvodina, Serbia, Bosnia, Hercegovina, and Montenegro--a most -picturesque gathering of splendid-looking young men and women, many -of them in their national costumes of brilliant colors. The funeral -procession started early in the afternoon. The singing societies from -the principal centres of Serbdom, lined up in the march in proper -succession, took up in turn the singing of the solemn and wonderfully -harmonious funeral hymn: “Holy God, almighty God, immortal God, have -mercy upon us.” - -The Orthodox church permits no instrumental music. Those who have had -the good fortune to listen to Russian choirs know the power and the -spiritual charm of their choral singing. Serb choirs are not their -inferiors. No music appeals to our hearts so strongly as the music -of the human voice. Every one of the singers in that procession at -Karlovci felt that he was paying his last vocal tribute to the sacred -memory of the national poet, and his voice rose up to the heavens above -as if carried there by the wings of his inspired soul. The effect was -irresistible, and there was not a single dry eye in the great national -gathering. A dismembered nation united in tears was a most solemn -and inspiring spectacle. One could not help feeling that these tears -were welcome to the thirsty soil which nourished the roots of Serb -nationalism. A nation which is united in song and in tears will never -lose its unity. If the governments of Vienna and Budapest had foreseen -the emotions which that solemn ceremony would arouse in the hearts of -that vast and representative gathering coming from every part of the -dismembered Serbdom, they would never have permitted it. But that would -have meant the exercise of the perceptions of subtle psychology, which -these governments never had. - -When the boat returned to Panchevo, Protoyeray Zhivkovich, the -poet-priest, who had first suggested my transference from Panchevo to -Prague, was watching for my arrival, and received me with tears of -joy in his eyes. He was a protecting friend and adviser of my boyhood -days, and he always considered himself indirectly responsible for my -wandering away to the distant shores of America. When I thanked him for -the choice feast which he had prepared for me, he assured me that his -feast was only a feast of food, whereas the feast which I spread out -before him when I answered his questions about America was a feast for -his soul. I certainly did it, if I interpreted correctly the luminous -flashes of his intelligent eyes. He was a man of about sixty, but his -vigorous eye was still just as eloquent as the stirring verses of his -younger days. “Tell your mother,” he said, “that I am happy to bear the -whole responsibility for your wandering away to distant America. It is -no longer distant; it is now in my heart; you have brought America to -us. It was a new world in my terrestrial geography; it is now a new -world in my spiritual geography.” His generous enthusiasm threatened to -undo some of the sobering effects of Niven’s conference at Cambridge. -During my several visits at his house that summer I had to repeat again -and again my description of Beecher and of his sermons. He called him -the brother of Joan of Arc of the new spiritual world; her flaming -sword, he said, was “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” - -My older sister and her husband drove to Panchevo and escorted me to -Idvor. When Idvor’s territory was reached I begged them to make a -detour which would take me through the pasturelands and vineyards of -Idvor, where I had seen my happiest boyhood days. There, as if in a -dream, I saw the boys of Idvor watching herds of oxen just as I used -to do, and playing the same games which I used to play. The vineyards, -the summer sky above them, and the river Tamish in the distance, where -I had learned to swim and dive, looked the same as ever. Presently the -familiar church-spire of Idvor hove in sight, and gradually the sweet -sound of the church-bells, announcing vespers, awakened countless -memories in my mind and I found it difficult to control my emotions. As -we drove slowly through little Idvor everything looked exactly as it -had looked eleven years before. There were no new houses, and the old -ones looked as old as ever. The people were doing the same work which -they always did during that season of the year, and they were doing it -in the same way. When we reached the village green I saw the gate of -my mother’s yard wide open, a sign that she expected a welcome guest. -She sat alone on the bench under a tree in front of her house, and -waited, looking in the direction from which she expected me to come. -When she saw my sister’s team, I observed that suddenly she raised her -white handkerchief to her eyes, and my sister whispered to me: “Mayka -plache!” (“Mother is weeping!”) I jumped out of the wagon and hastened -to embrace her. Oh, how wonderful is the power of tears, and how -clear is our spiritual vision when a shower of tears has purified the -turbulent atmosphere of our emotions! Mother’s love and love for mother -are the sweetest messages of God to the living earth. - -Everything in Idvor looked the same, but my mother had changed; she -looked much older, and much more beautiful. There was a saintly light -in her eyes which disclosed to me the serene firmament of the spiritual -world in which she lived. Raphael and Titian, I thought, never painted -a more beautiful saint. I gazed and worshipped and felt most humble. -“Come,” she said, “and walk with me; we shall be alone; I want to -hear your voice and see the light of your face, undisturbed.” We -walked slowly, and my mother recalled many things, reminding me of the -familiar objects of my boyhood days, as: “Here is the path on which you -walked to school; there is the church where you read the epistles on -Sundays and holidays; there is the mill with the funnel-shaped thatched -roof from the top of which you once removed the shining new tin star, -imagining that it was a star from heaven; there is the house where Baba -Batikin, of blessed memory, lived and taught you so many ancient tales; -there is the house where old Aunt Tina cured your whooping-cough with -charms and with herbs steeped in honey; here lived old Lyubomir, of -blessed memory, who was so fond of you, and made your sheepskin coats -and caps; here is the field where every evening you brought our horses -to the chikosh (the village herdsman) to take them to the pasturelands.” - -By that time we had reached the end of the little village, but my -mother prolonged our leisurely walk and presently we stood at the gate -of the village cemetery. Pointing to a cross of red marble my mother -said that it marked the grave of my father. When we reached it I kissed -the cross, and, kneeling upon the grave, I prayed. My mother, loyal -to Serb traditions, addressed the grave, saying: “Kosta, my faithful -husband, here is your boy whom you loved more dearly than your own -life, and whose name was on your lips when you breathed your last. -Accept his prayer and his tears as his affectionate tribute to your -blessed memory, which he will cherish forever.” - -On the way back we stopped at the church and kissed the icons of our -patron saint and of St. Sava, and lighted two wax candles which mother -had brought with her. I confessed to her that I felt as if a sacred -communion had reunited me with the spirit of Idvor. That was her wish, -she said, because she did not want Idvor to think that I was like a -proud stranger from a proud, strange land. “I did not recognize you,” -she said, “when I first saw you in your sister’s wagon until you smiled -with the smile of your boyhood days, and then I shed the sweetest tears -of my life. You looked so learned and so far above us plain folks of -Idvor that nobody will recognize the Misha they used to know, and whom -they long to see, unless you show them the boy that they used to know.” -My promise to return to Idvor “rich in learning and academic honors” -was evidently made good, according to my mother’s opinion. But did not -this learning and these academic honors carry with them an air which -did not harmonize with the old-fashioned notions of Idvor? This, I -believed, was in my mother’s mind, and I made a careful note of it. - -Idvor came to see me, and it assured me that there was no youngster -in all the great plains of Voyvodina who was nearer to the heart of -his native village than Misha. This affectionate regard was won by my -strict observance of all the old customs of Idvor, as, for instance, -kissing the hand of the old people of Idvor, and in return being -kissed by them on the forehead. On the other hand, young peasant boys -and girls of Idvor kissed my hand, and I kissed them on the cheek and -petted them. My cousin, much older than I, was an ex-soldier and a -stern _Knez_ (chief) of the village. He was the oldest male member -and, therefore, the head of the Pupins. I was expected to keep this in -mind constantly, and I did it whenever I stood in his mighty presence. -American citizenship eliminated my allegiance to the Emperor of -Austria-Hungary but not to the autocratic _Knez_ of Idvor. There was -another great person in Idvor whose presence inspired awe. He was my -_koum_ (godfather). My mother had lost all her children that were born -in her earlier years, and was left childless for many years. She then -bore two daughters when she was over thirty. I was born when she was -over forty, in answer to her fervent prayer, she firmly believed, that -God grant her a son. A boy born late in life, if he is to live, must, -according to a popular belief in Idvor, be handed out through the front -window to the first person who comes along, and that person has to -carry the baby to church quickly and have it baptized. In this manner -a very poor and humble peasant of Idvor became my _koum_. A _koum’s_ -authority over his godchild is, theoretically at least, unlimited, -according to Serbian custom. In practice, a godchild must eat humble -pie when the _koum_ is present. Between my cousin, who, as _Knez_, -was at the head of the village, and my _koum_, who was somewhere near -the bottom of the village, I had some difficulty to steer the correct -course of conduct. I succeeded, thanks to my efforts to please my -mother; and the peasants of Idvor most cheerfully admitted that America -must be a fine Christian country, since it had given me a training -which harmonized so well with the Christian traditions of Idvor. My -presidency in the junior year at Columbia College, my undisputed -authority among some of the young aristocrats of New York, and the -many scholastic successes in my academic career had sown some seeds of -vanity and false pride in my heart. But these seeds were smothered by -the inexorable rigors of Idvor’s traditions. Humility is the cardinal -virtue in a youth among the peasants of Idvor. - -Needless to say, the story of my life since I had left Idvor was -retold many a time, until my mother and my sisters knew it by heart. -It was sweet music to their ears. I enjoyed it, too, because summer -evenings in a Serbian garden are most conducive to the spinning out of -reminiscent tales. The village worthies spent many Sunday afternoons in -my mother’s garden asking many, many a question about America. Tales -about things like the Brooklyn Bridge, the elevated railroad, the tall -buildings in New York, and the agricultural operations of the West were -received with many expressions of wonder, but at times also, I thought, -with some reserve. A simple peasant mind could not accept without -considerable reserve the statement that a machine can cut, bind, and -load the seasoned wheat, all at the same time, with nothing but a few -stupid horses to drag it along. After a while my store of information -became exhausted, and I had much less to say, but the wise men of -Idvor urged me to go on. They met my apologies with the statement that -peasant Ghiga had never left Idvor in all his life until one day he -went to a neighboring village, about ten miles away, and saw the county -fair. He returned to Idvor on the same day, and for six weeks he never -ceased talking about the great things which he had seen at that county -fair. “Just imagine,” said the priest, “how much he would have had to -say if he had been nine years in great America!” - -I was overwhelmed with invitations to attend concerts and festivals -in many places of my native Banat, and when I attended I was often -called upon to say something about America, and, of course, I spoke -about my favorite subject: “The American Doctrine of Freedom.” People -talked and papers wrote about it. One day the Fehispan, the governor of -Torontal, where Idvor belonged under the new division of Hungary, sent -for me, and appointed the hour for a conference. I went, carrying my -American citizenship papers and my Columbia diploma in my pocket. When -I entered his office I saw a handsome young man of about thirty, quite -athletic in appearance, and looking like an English aristocrat in dress -and in manner. I was told beforehand that he was a young Hungarian -nobleman who prided himself upon his English university training. I -wondered how he would act when he saw before him a Serb youth from -the peasant village of Idvor who prided himself upon his American -college training. He looked puzzled when I entered and saluted him with -a Serbian “Dobroytro gospodine!” (“Good morning, sir”), accompanying -my salute with an Anglo-Saxon bow, that is a jerky motion of the head -from the shoulders up. The bow of continental Europe is much more -elaborate. After some hesitation he asked me to sit down, and then, -as if by an afterthought, he brought a chair himself and offered it -to me. We spoke in English, since I did not understand Hungarian, and -he did not care to speak Serb. By way of introduction I showed him -my American citizenship papers and my diploma, and he remarked that -these documents agreed with my appearance and manner, adding quickly -that he meant a compliment. He asked me how I liked Idvor and Hungary. -Then I told him that I never had known much about Hungary, but that -Budapest and even its famous bridge looked to me small and shrivelled -up, probably because I compared things there with things in New York. -“It is big enough, is it not, to be the metropolis of the southern -Slavs in Hungary?” he asked. “It undoubtedly is,” said I, “but somewhat -inconvenient and unnatural.” I volunteered this opinion, seeing from -his somewhat inquisitorial manner that he knew much about my doings, -and that he had heard of my salute to Belgrade when my boat from -Budapest approached it a month earlier. - -“This, I suppose, is the doctrine which you preached at Karlovci, -at the national gathering there?” asked the handsome and genial -inquisitor, and I answered: “No; I had no time; I was too busy -carrying the body of the great poet to Strazhilovo. Besides, the -Karlovci ceremony itself was really a grand sermon which glorified -that doctrine, and some day it may prevail, when the slow mind of the -southern Slav wakes up and does the natural thing.” “The quick mind -of the Hungarian crown may wake up sooner and do the natural thing,” -said the young Fehispan, and added: “What you say now confirms my -information that in your public utterances you deny the divine right of -the crown and proclaim the divine right of the people.” “That is one -of the messages of our American Declaration of Independence,” said I, -“and I delivered that message to people here who were anxious to hear -something about America.” Then I added that Kossuth, while in America, -was glorifying the divine right of the Hungarian people and denying the -divine right of the Hapsburg crown in Hungary. I had heard this and -many other Hungarian democratic doctrines from Henry Ward Beecher, who -was a great friend and admirer of Kossuth, and I told him that. He saw -that my trigger was ready if he attempted any further moves in this -direction. “You are certainly frank and honest, like all real Americans -that I know; that makes them most attractive. But why don’t you -naturalized Americans mind your own business when you visit us?” He was -much less stern and serious when he said this, and I was only too glad -to play a more cheerful tune, and said: “Our most important business -here is our mission to make you, our poor relations here, happy and -prosperous by having you adopt the American point of view.” - -He was a wealthy Hungarian magnate who owned several villages, each -of them bigger than Idvor, and this answer coming from a son of poor -Idvor amused him much. From that moment on our conference was much -less formal, and became even cordial when he offered me coffee and -cigarettes. I jokingly told him that Magyarism and Teutonism had driven -me away from Panchevo and Prague, and now that I was back for a visit I -wished to pay them back with a little present of a few American ideas. -“Your American ideas,” he retorted jokingly, “will make you even less -popular here than your Serb nationalism did eleven years ago. Drop them -while you are here. You’ll have more fun shooting wild ducks in the -lowlands of the Tamish River near Idvor than clearing up to dullards -the American point of view. The duck season is on, and it is a pity -to miss a single day. I’ll lend you an American gun which is just -right for that sort of business.” He did, and that gun kept me busy -and saved him the trouble of watching my movements. The village notary -accompanied me on my shooting tramps; he was an expert fisherman and -shot, and spared no pains to please me and--the Fehispan. A two weeks’ -tramp in the marshes of the Tamish River, chasing the elusive duck, -diminished my haste to harmonize the political point of view of the -Serbs in the Voyvodina with American ideas. - -When the vintage was over, toward the end of September, I made ready to -start for Cambridge. I was sorry to leave, because the merry season in -Voyvodina is on when the vintage is over and the new wine has ceased -fermenting. The golden crops are then all in, and the lazy pigs are fat -and round, and ready to be served at wedding-feasts. In other lands it -is the springtime when the young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love; -in the Serb Voyvodina it is the autumn season which has that mysterious -power. It is in the autumn when marriage-bells never cease ringing, and -the bagpipes with the merry songs of wedding-feasts stir up the hearts -from one end of the Banat plains to the other. But my mother diverted -my attention to more serious thoughts, and she assured me that she -was even more happy preparing me for my journey to Cambridge than she -was when, eleven years before, she was preparing me for my journey to -Prague. - -A few days prior to my departure the village worthies prepared a -fish-supper in my honor. The Tamish fishermen cooked it in their -traditional way over a wood fire burning under the open sky. The -little supper-party reached the fishermen’s hut on the bank of the -Tamish River just about sunset. The western sky was all aglow with the -golden light of the parting day, and so was the surface of the tranquil -Tamish River, made luminous by the image of the western sky. The -rest of the landscape looked dark by contrast, excepting the glowing -faces of the patient supper-party, who sat around the busy fires and -watched the boiling kettles and the broiling pans. At some distance, -and standing at the very end of a fisherman’s barge, was the dark -silhouette of a tall young shepherd, who stood there lonely like some -solitary dark spectre hovering over the golden surface of the Tamish -River. It was just the spot for one who sought seclusion and longed -for quiet meditation. No ripple in the water or in the air disturbed -his dreams, if he had any, and I thought that he had. His sheep had -been watered, and he had finished his frugal supper long ago, before -the light of the day had retired below the distant horizon line of the -Banat plains. The silence of the approaching night awakened emotions -which only his tuneful flute could express, and suddenly he poured his -soul into a melody which surely was not addressed to mere phantoms -of the vacuous space. I felt that the quivering air was conveying -through the evening silence a message of love to some maiden, who was -perhaps just then spinning under some thatched roof of drowsy Idvor and -thinking of him. The priest approached me to tell me that the fish was -ready and that the feast would soon begin. I told him that my feast -had already begun and called his attention to the heavenly melody. He -said: “Oh, that’s Gabriel, the son of my neighbor Milutin. He entered -the village school when you left Idvor, and he finished it long ago. -He will be married on St. Michael’s day, and what you hear now is his -sefdalia (song of sighs) for his future bride, who is over there in our -drowsy village.” When he jokingly suggested that I might be looking -forward to the enjoyment of the sweets of simple pastoral life which -were in store for Gabriel, if I had not turned my back on Idvor eleven -years before, I answered that perhaps it was not too late to correct -the error. The priest looked astonished, and asked me whether I had -crossed and recrossed the Atlantic in order to become a shepherd of -Idvor. I said nothing, but I knew that Gabriel’s melody had disclosed -to me another world in which the question “What is Light?” is by no -means the most important question. There were other great questions of -human life, the answers to which can perhaps be found in Idvor without -a knowledge of Maxwell’s electrical theory. - - - - -VI - -STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE - - -A long-continued struggle with no let-up will wreck a feeble -constitution. It produces in a strong and healthy constitution a -tuning-up of continuously rising pitch under the tension of which even -the strongest constitution may snap in two. My struggle had been going -on for nine years when I was returning to Europe on my way to Idvor, -hence my pitch was very high. Nervous tension resulting in a lack of -poise was the diagnosis of my ailment, according to my English friend -in Lucerne, who urged me to abandon the exploration of the beauties -of the Alps and seek the solitude of my native village; otherwise, he -said, not even all the guardian angels in heaven could prevent me from -breaking my neck. A two months’ vacation in the soporific atmosphere -of Idvor was a blessing; my pitch was lowered through several octaves, -and I did not vibrate violently in response to every impulse that came -along. I recognized, for instance, that the Serbs of the Voyvodina -could wait a little longer for their political salvation, which I -confidently expected from their adoption of the American point of view. -I also recognized that to many human beings a knowledge of the modern -theories of physics was not indispensable to happiness. There was not -a single person in Idvor who cared two straws about these things, and -yet most of these good people were happy, as, for instance, Gabriel, -who was to be married on St. Michael’s day. Gabriel did not know much, -I said to myself, but the little knowledge he had was very definite. -He knew that he loved the girl he was about to marry, and he also knew -that his life, following in the footsteps of his peasant ancestors, -had a definite object in view which, as everybody in his village knew, -was easily attainable. I knew more than Gabriel did, but my knowledge -was not as definite as his. My aim in life was, I thought, much higher -than his; but was it attainable? And, if attainable, was it worth the -struggle? Two months earlier such a question could not have occurred to -me even in a dream. But Gabriel’s melody and the dreamy atmosphere of -Idvor suggested it. - -My mother observed that a change had occurred, but she was not alarmed. -I spoke less often of my future plans, and was less anxious about my -departure for Cambridge. The wedding celebrations in my native Banat -were already ushered in by the gay autumn season, and the beautiful -kolo dancers, whirling around the merry bagpipes, engaged my interest -much more than when I had come to Idvor two months before. One evening -my mother recalled an incident which happened in my early boyhood days -and which I remembered well. She said something like this: - -“Do you remember when Bukovala’s mill with its high conical roof was -rethatched?” I said, “Yes,” and she continued: “You were then a little -shaver, but you certainly remember still the shining tin star which the -workmen had planted upon the top of the conical roof after they had -finished their work of thatching. The children of Idvor thought that -it was a real star from heaven; it looked so bright when the sunlight -was shining upon it. One day the tin star disappeared, and everybody -wondered how anybody could have climbed up that smooth and steep roof -and taken the star away. Old Lyubomir, who loved you so dearly and -delighted in making sheepskin coats for you, was sure that it was you, -and he suggested that special prayers of thanksgiving be read in church -for your miraculous escape. Old Lyubomir was right, as you know, and -I always believed that God had saved you for a mission in life much -higher than that of young Gabriel, whose happy lot you seem to envy. -Blessed America has taught you how to climb a roof much steeper than -that of Bukovala’s mill, and on its top and all the way up to it you -will find many a real star from heaven. You are not far from the top -and you cannot stop nor turn back now any more than you could when you -saw the peak of Titlis in the distance, but felt too fatigued to finish -your climb. Gabriel’s magic flute and his mellow sefdalia, song of -sighs, have turned your thoughts to things which are now in everybody’s -mind: to wedding-feasts and kolo dancing, and to other diversions which -fill the hearts of Idvor’s youth during this merry autumn season. -You are dreaming now some of the idle dreams of youth, but when you -return to Cambridge you will wake up again and see that all this was -a pleasant dream only, which you saw in your restful hours in drowsy -Idvor. The real things are waiting for you at Cambridge.” - -I confessed my weakness and pleaded extenuating circumstances. I tried -to persuade her that her tender affection and watchful ministering -to what she insisted should be my pleasures and comforts during that -summer had transformed a hardy youth into a soft and pampered pet. She -answered: “The blacksmith softens his steel before he forges it into a -chain; you are just right for the blacksmiths of Cambridge.” - - * * * * * - -When I returned to Cambridge from drowsy little Idvor things looked -different from what they had on my former visit two months before. -Things which, in my feverish haste, I had scarcely noticed then filled -me now with awe. The ancient college buildings inspired a feeling -of wonder and of veneration. I saw in them just so many monumental -records of the ancient traditions of English learning. I began to -understand, I thought, how it happened that a little nation on a -little island in the northern Atlantic became the leader in the world’s -empire of intellect, and the cradle of a great civilization. This -first impression made upon me by these ancient monuments was greatly -amplified as soon as I caught even the first glimpses of the daily -activity of Cambridge. The forenoons appeared serious and sombre to an -outside observer; everybody wore a black cap and gown and everybody -did apparently the same thing, going somewhere in search of sources of -learning and inspiration. The intellect of Cambridge seemed to be in -full action during the forenoons, and hence the solemn seriousness of -the university town during the early half of the day. But the scene -changed as if by magic when the midday had passed. The black caps -and gowns disappeared, and in their places white flannel trousers -and gaily colored blazers and caps adorned the college youths and -many college dons. The same youths who in the forenoon, like sombre -monks, were making a pilgrimage to some miracle-working fountains of -wisdom joined in a gay procession in the afternoon, hastening to the -sparkling fountains of athletic recreation. The intellectual activity -of the forenoon was succeeded by the physical activity of Cambridge -in the afternoon. To a stranger like myself, who knew practically -nothing of the famous university town, the change of scene between -morning and afternoon was bewildering. It looked to me as if I saw a -monastic-looking procession of serious and thoughtful men suddenly -changed into gay groups of lively youths whose only thoughts were on -the games which awaited them. By counting the different colors of -blazers and caps and the coats of arms which adorned the athletic -youths one could easily count the number of different colleges in -the old university. These colors and coats of arms had a meaning, I -thought, and I asked myself whether they did not, like the ancient -college buildings, record the ancient traditions of the venerable -seat of learning. They certainly did; they were a part of the symbolic -language which told the story of the university’s customs and -traditions. It was clear to me that while at Cambridge my work was to -be done in the morning and evening, and my playing in the afternoon, -in accordance with the local customs. I stayed at a hotel for several -days and watched these external pictures of Cambridge life before I -called on Mr. Niven of Trinity and on Mr. Oscar Browning of King’s. I -wished to get some picture of the daily activities at Cambridge before -I presented myself to these learned men, and I got it. - -Niven was expecting me and was ready with a programme of work which -he had promised me in June, and I gladly accepted it. Both Niven and -Browning assured me that at that late date lodgings in any college -were out of the question, and that I must get lodgings in the town -for one academic year at least. It did not matter, because very many -students resided outside of the college buildings. I really preferred -it, because I had not come to Cambridge to seek the opportunities -offered by its college life; I had come to study physics and find out -how Maxwell answered the question “What is Light?” That was the only -definite point in the programme which I had brought to Cambridge; the -rest was hazy and reminded me often of a Serbian figure of speech -which speaks of a goose groping around in a fog to find its way. But -I had groped like a goose in a fog when I landed at Castle Garden and -finally found my way. The saying, “Where there’s a will there’s a way,” -comforted me much. - -My residence in lodgings outside of the college precincts had one great -advantage. It gave me an opportunity to study English life from what -I considered a somewhat novel point of view. It is the point of view -which discloses to the foreigner English domestic life through the -unique personality of the English landlady. During my eighteen months’ -stay at the University of Cambridge, I had an opportunity to study her -wonderful ways, not only in Cambridge, but also in London, Hastings, -Brighton, and Folkestone, where I used to spend my Easter and Christmas -vacations. She was the same everywhere: dignified, reticent, punctual, -and square; neat and clean in all her ways; willing and anxious to -render service, but not a servant; possessing a perfect understanding -of her own business, which she minded scrupulously, but avoiding -carefully minding anybody else’s business. - -At Mr. Browning’s request a Mr. Ling, the leading tenor of King’s -College choir, took me around to look for lodgings. He belonged to the -town and not to the gown, and was quite anxious to impress me with the -many virtues of the town. He transformed our trip into an elaborate -inspection tour of the student lodgings, because he was proud of them -and considered them a very essential part of the great university. -At that time I thought that he, a very enthusiastic townsman, was -perhaps exaggerating the importance of this subsidiary instrumentality -of the university. But when I got to know the Cambridge landlady and -to understand her importance, I became convinced that Mr. Ling was -right. I had not been in Cambridge more than a week before I learned -the fundamentals of English domestic life, and I admired its wholesome -simplicity. My landlady taught me these fundamentals, and in her -wonderfully tactful ways she enforced their operation without my being -aware that I was led around by her intelligent and forceful hand. -I take off my hat to the English landlady, who, in her humble and -unostentatious ways, is one of the eloquent interpreters of Anglo-Saxon -civilization. She was one of my trusty guides and sympathetic -assistants during my strenuous eighteen months at the University of -Cambridge. - -I started my work at Cambridge unattached to any college. But later -I made up my mind to attach myself to King’s College, yielding to -repeated suggestions from my friend, Mr. Oscar Browning. But I did not -change my lodgings. King’s had less than a hundred students and many -dons. Not one of them was a star in physics, and therefore the college -had no attractions for me on account of the learning of its dons. -But it had a beautiful chapel and a famous choir. The stained-glass -windows of King’s College chapel were famous as far back as Cromwell’s -time and they are still so. Every time I attended service in this -glorious chapel I went away feeling spiritually uplifted. I attended -regularly, although, as a member of the Orthodox faith, I was excused -from all religious services. What the other students, belonging to -the established church, considered a stern duty, I considered a rare -privilege. The chapel gave me a spiritual tonic whenever I needed it, -and I needed it often. I yielded also to Mr. Browning’s suggestions -to try for a place in the college boat, and succeeded. Rowing was the -only exercise which I took at Cambridge after I had become attached -to King’s, but before that I took long walks, usually with one of the -younger dons or with a student who was engaged in the same book work -in which I was engaged. They helped me to make myself familiar with -the history of Cambridge and of the surrounding country. Everybody in -Cambridge took his daily exercise just as regularly as he took his -daily bath and food. I followed the universal custom; it suited me well -and, besides, that was the best way to get along in Cambridge. - -Physical as well as intellectual activity of the students at Cambridge -was a matter of daily routine, regulated by customs and traditions. -But these regulators were different for different groups of students. -The student studying for honors arranged his work differently from -the arrangement which suited the needs of a Poll student, that is, -the ordinary student who did not aspire to academic honors. Their -previous training also had been different. The students who aspired -to academic honors in mathematics were quite numerous, more numerous -than the students in any other honor class. Cambridge, ever since the -time of Newton, had become the nursery of the mathematical sciences -in the British Empire. There were about five of these honor groups at -Cambridge in those days. Niven advised me to join the honor group in -mathematics, the so-called mathematical tripos group, and he picked -out a coach for me. Just as one straight line, only, can be drawn -through two points, so the line of the student’s intellectual activity -at Cambridge was fixed when he had picked out the honor class and the -tutor or coach to train him for the examinations prescribed for that -honor class. To join the honor class in mathematics meant to work -alongside of students who expected to become Cambridge _wranglers_. -To understand the meaning of this it suffices to know that no greater -honor was in store for the ambitious youths in the university than to -be a _senior wrangler_ or to stroke a victorious varsity boat. The -preparations for these glorious honors were just as careful as the -preparations of a Grecian youth for participation in the Olympian -games. I had no ambition to become a Cambridge wrangler, but Niven -pointed out that a prospective physicist who wished to master some day -Maxwell’s new electrical theory must first master a good part of the -mathematical work prescribed for students preparing for the Cambridge -mathematical tripos examinations. - -“Doctor Routh could fix you up in quicker time than anybody,” said -Niven with a smile, and then he added cautiously, “that is, if Routh -consents to your joining his private classes, and if you can manage -to keep up the pace of the youngsters who are under his training.” -Three months before, when I first called on Niven, and when my pitch -was very high, I would have resented this; but Idvor had lowered my -pitch several octaves and I swallowed Niven’s bitter pill without the -slightest sign of mental distress. My humility pleased him, because it -probably relieved him of some anxiety about the question of managing me. - -John Edward Routh, fellow of Peterhouse College, was the most famous -mathematical coach that Cambridge University had ever seen. In his -lifetime he had coached several hundred wranglers, and for twenty-two -consecutive years he had coached the senior wrangler of each year. -This is really equivalent to saying that a certain jockey had ridden -the Derby winner for twenty-two consecutive years. He was a senior -wrangler himself in 1854, when great James Clerk Maxwell was second -wrangler, and he divided with Maxwell the famous Smith’s prize in -mathematics. To be admitted by Routh into his private classes was -flattering, according to Niven, but to be able to keep up with them -would be a most encouraging sign. Niven was anxiously waiting for that -sign. Routh accepted me, but gave me to understand that my mathematical -preparation was much below the standard of the boys who came to -Cambridge to prepare for the mathematical tripos examinations, and that -I should have to do considerable extra reading. He also cautioned me -that all this meant very stiff work for a good part of the academic -year. I went to Cambridge to study physics and not mathematics; but, -according to Niven and Routh, my real desire, as far as they could make -it out, was to study mathematical physics, and they assured me that my -training with Routh, if I could keep the pace, would soon lay a good -foundation for that. Lord Rayleigh lectured on mathematical physics and -so did famous Professor Stokes (later Sir George Gabriel Stokes); but -according to Routh and Niven I was not prepared to attend any of these -lectures, and much less to read Maxwell’s famous mathematical treatise -on his new electrical theory. Niven reminded me once of my first visit -to Cambridge, when I had insisted that Cambridge without Maxwell had no -attractions for me, and he asked me, jokingly, whether Lord Rayleigh’s -lectures were good enough for me. I answered that they certainly were, -but that, unfortunately, I was not good enough for the lectures. “Next -year you will be,” said Niven, consoling me; and I, unable to suppress -my feeling of disappointment, answered: “Let us pray that the starving -jackass does not drop dead before the grass is green again.” “What’s -that?” asked Niven, somewhat puzzled. “That is a free translation of a -Serbian proverb, and I am the jackass,” said I, and refused to furnish -any further explanations. But Niven figured it out correctly in the -course of the evening and then laughed heartily. He confessed that -Serbo-American humor was somewhat involved and required considerable -analysis. - -The Cambridge colleges, some nineteen in number, resembled our -American colleges in many ways. The career of the Cambridge Poll men -was essentially the same as that of our American college boys. But -our American colleges had no class of students corresponding to the -Cambridge honor men. Referring particularly to the honor men who -prepared for the so-called mathematical tripos, they came to Cambridge -after graduating at some college outside of Cambridge. For instance, -Maxwell came to Cambridge from the University of Edinburgh, and Routh -came there from the University College, London. Both of them migrated -to Cambridge, because their teachers in mathematics, like illustrious -De Morgan, the first mathematical teacher of Routh, were mathematicians -of distinction, and discovering in their young pupils extraordinary -mathematical talents they developed them as far as they could, and then -sent them to Cambridge for further development under the training of -famous coaches who prepared them for the mathematical tripos. These -teachers were usually former Cambridge wranglers, apostles of the -Cambridge mathematical school, and they were always on the lookout for -a fresh supply of mathematical genius for the nursery which regarded -great Newton as its founder. This was the type of boys which I met in -Routh’s classes. They did not seem to know as much of Greek and Latin, -of history and economics, of literature and physical sciences, as I -did, but their training in mathematics was far superior to mine. They -were candidates for the mathematical tripos, and no American college of -those days had a curriculum which could turn out candidates with the -preliminary mathematical training which those boys brought to Cambridge. - -Routh had warned me that stiff work was before me for a good part of a -whole academic year, if I was to keep up with the young mathematical -athletes whom he was training, and he was right. I experienced many -moments of despondency and even despair, and I needed all the tonic -which King’s College chapel could give me; I needed it very often, and -I got it. Routh was a splendid drill-master even for those students -who, like myself, had no tripos aspirations. He certainly was a -wonder, and everything he did was done with ease and grace and in -such an offhand manner that I often thought that he considered even -the stiffest mathematical problems mere amusing tricks. Problems over -which I had puzzled in vain for many hours he would resolve in several -seconds. He was a virtuoso in the mathematical technique, and he -prepared virtuosos; he was the great master who trained future senior -wranglers. I never felt so small and so humble as I did during the -early period of my training with Routh. Vanity and false pride had no -place in my heart when I watched Routh demolish one intricate dynamical -problem after another with marvellous ease. I felt as a commonplace -artist feels when he listens to a Paderewski or to a Fritz Kreisler. - -Long before the end of the academic year, I finished Routh’s -preliminary tripos course in dynamics and much of the auxiliary -mathematics demanded by it, and became quite skilled in solving -dynamical problems. I had much difficulty in keeping pace with Routh’s -classes, but I succeeded, and Niven was pleased. But I was not pleased; -I did not think that I had found there what I had expected to find. In -the course of time I discovered that I was not alone in my opinion; -many Cambridge men failed to find in tripos drills the stimulating -elements of that scientific spirit which leads to original research. I -was a goose which groped around in a fog when I came to Cambridge; but, -if I had come from an English college as a promising tripos candidate, -with my work cut out for me by my superiors and in accordance with -old customs and traditions of Cambridge, I should not have discovered -that there was in Cambridge at that time an epoch-making movement, the -significance of which cannot be overestimated. I shall return to this -point later. - -Many a time during my early experiences in Routh’s drill school I -thought of my mother’s words which described the steep and slippery -climb which awaited me, and which was leading, as she had expressed it, -to real stars from heaven. I felt the steepness of the climb, but I -saw no star ahead of me. Routh was a great master of the mathematical -technique, but he was not a creative genius; he was a virtuoso but -not a composer. His principal concern was to drill his students in -the art of solving those conventional problems which usually formed -part of tripos examinations. The poetical element of dynamics, which -thrills, was absent from his businesslike drills. The only star, I -thought, which his students saw ahead of them was a high place in the -tripos examinations, and that star did not attract me; recalling my -mother’s story, I called it a tin star. I loved Routh and admired him -much, but I did not admire the Cambridge tripos method of laying a -foundation for mathematical physics. When Niven discovered my state of -mind he sympathized, and he gave me a little book called “Matter and -Motion” by Maxwell, a very small book written by a very great author. -“You are not up to the mathematics of Maxwell’s great electrical -treatise,” said Niven, as he handed me the little book, “but you will -find no difficulties of that kind in this little book, which covers -a very great subject.” It was first published in America in the _Van -Nostrand Magazine_. No magazine ever performed a greater educational -service. There was not only much poetical beauty and philosophical -depth in this tiny and apparently most elementary book on dynamics, -but there were also many illustrations of the close connection between -this fundamental science and other departments of physical science. -Maxwell’s presentation roused, and it also stimulated, the spirit of -inquiry. Routh’s elaborate system of clever tripos problems in dynamics -appeared to me for the first time as little parts, only, of a complex -and endless art which had grown out of a simple and beautiful science, -the science of dynamics, which first saw the light of day at Trinity -College, Cambridge. The exquisite art as practised by Routh and the -subtle science as described by Maxwell, the two leading Cambridge -wranglers of 1854, disclosed to me the real meaning of Newton, the -greatest among the great Cambridge men, the creator of the science -of dynamics. I knew then that I had seen one of the real stars of -heaven of which my mother spoke. But without the light of Maxwell -I would not have seen the light of Newton. It will be seen further -below that Maxwell and Routh, Cambridge wranglers of 1854, were the -representatives of different mental attitudes in Cambridge: Maxwell was -the apostle of the new and Routh of the old spirit of Cambridge. Niven -was very fond of reminding me of my first visit when I had told him -that Cambridge without Maxwell had no attraction for me. After reading -Maxwell’s little classic I told Niven that my opinion was, after all, -not so funny and strange as he represented it. - - * * * * * - -A short digression is timely now. I went to Trinity College -occasionally to spend a Sunday evening with Mr. Niven. One Sunday -evening I walked around the historical Trinity quadrangle, waiting -until Mr. Niven returned to his rooms from the evening service in the -college chapel. The mysterious-looking light streaming through the -stained-glass windows of the chapel and the heavenly music radiating -from the invisible choir and organ commanded my attention. I stood -motionless like a solitary spectre in the middle of the deserted -and sombre quadrangle, and gazed, and listened, and dreamed. Yes, I -dreamed of great Newton, the greatest of all Trinity dons; and I saw -how, two centuries before, he was treading over the same spot where I -was standing whenever he was returning from a Sunday evening service -in the very chapel at which I was gazing. I dreamed also of Maxwell, -another great Trinity don; and remembered that, five years before, the -very same choir and organ to which I was listening had paid their last -tribute to this great Cambridge man, when his earthly remains left the -grief-stricken university on their last pilgrimage to Maxwell’s native -Scotland. But I knew that his spirit had remained at Cambridge to -inspire forever the coming generations of ambitious students. - -I dreamed of other great Trinity College men whose spirits seemed to -hover about the sombre quadrangle, rejoicing in the heavenly light -and sound which radiated from the historical chapel where Newton and -Maxwell worshipped in days gone by. I longed for the day when my alma -mater, Columbia College, and other colleges in America, could offer -such an inspiring scene to its students; and I wondered how soon that -day would come. Niven told me the following story which, he thought, -might answer this question: - -A don of Magdalen College, Oxford, was asked by an American friend how -long it would take to raise, in America, a lawn like the famous lawn of -Magdalen College. “I do not know,” said the don, “but it took us over -two centuries to do it here in Oxford.” Niven implied, of course, that -it will take much more than two centuries to create at any American -college that atmosphere which surrounded me at the Trinity College -quadrangle on that memorable Sunday evening. It was the mysterious -charm of that atmosphere which held me chained to Cambridge in spite -of the fact that I did not believe that the Cambridge tripos method of -laying a foundation in mathematical physics was fitting my particular -case. - -Students shift from university to university in continental Europe, -migrating to places where they are attracted by the reputations of -teachers who happen to be there. I went to Cambridge because I thought -that Maxwell was there. But at Cambridge, and at Oxford too, it was -not only the teacher who was there but also the teachers who had lived -there during generations long past who determined the choice made by -ambitious students. The great teachers in the mathematical sciences -when I was there were Lord Rayleigh, the successor of Maxwell; John -Crouch Adams, who, with Leverrier in France, shared in the great -distinction of calculating from the perturbations in the orbit of -Uranus the position of the still unknown planet Neptune; George Gabriel -Stokes, the greatest mathematical physicist in Europe at that time, and -the occupant of the professorial chair once held by great Newton. But -that which brought the students in mathematical sciences to Cambridge -was not only the lustre of the reputations of these great professors, -but also the existence at Cambridge of a historical educational policy, -to the development of which many great Cambridge mathematicians of -generations long past had made lasting contributions. The mathematical -tripos was the most concrete expression of this traditional policy. - -It can be inferred from what I have already said that this traditional -policy did not suit me. I do not think that it would have suited any -American student of those days who had a taste for physics. I said -once to a Cambridge friend that my landlady, Routh, and rowing shaped -the daily events of my life. He saw my point and admitted that each -one of them represented a powerful determining factor in the life of -a Cambridge student who was preparing for the mathematical tripos -examinations. Each one of them had its deep roots in ancient traditions -from which it was difficult to deviate. Routh was a rare product and -a loyal apostle of the tradition called the Mathematical Tripos. It -was perhaps the most powerful of all Cambridge traditions and stood -as immovable as the rock of Gibraltar; its great strength was the -fact that it had produced many distinguished men of science. But -nevertheless some of the greatest living Cambridge physicists of those -days felt that it had defects and called for remedies. It was claimed -that its method, having no direct connection with the nascent problems -of scientific research, was artificial and unproductive. - -Sir William Thomson, known later as Lord Kelvin, was among the first -who called for speedy remedies. He was the second wrangler in 1845 and -Stephen Parkinson was the senior wrangler. Thomson left Cambridge and -went to Paris to get from the famous physicist Regnault what he could -not get at Cambridge. After a year, when only twenty-two years old, -he accepted a professorship in physics and directorship in physical -research at the University of Glasgow. The long-headed Scotch were -fully thirty years ahead of Cambridge in establishing a research -laboratory in physics. Here Thomson worked out the scientific elements -of the first Atlantic cable, and invented the instruments necessary -for its operation. When I was in Cambridge the name of Thomson was -attached to most measuring instruments employed in the electrical -industries at that time, and he was also one of the leaders of abstract -scientific thought. He represented in the popular mind the new spirit -of Cambridge. Stephen Parkinson, Thomson’s superior in the tripos test -of 1845, was still in Cambridge when I was there, and had to his credit -a text-book on geometrical optics, with stereotyped problems, suitable -for tripos examinations. He was not among those who called for a change -in the traditional mathematical tripos examinations at Cambridge. -Maxwell, undoubtedly inspired by Thomson, was one of the earliest -leaders of the Cambridge movement which demanded a modification of the -mathematical tripos, favoring more the spirit of research and less the -art of solving cleverly formulated mathematical problems. The Cavendish -Physics Laboratory, organized by Maxwell and first opened in 1874, was, -according to Niven, a concrete expression of this movement. - -A similar movement was taking place in the United States in those days. -Among its leaders were President Barnard of Columbia College, and -Joseph Henry, the first and the most distinguished secretary of the -Smithsonian Institution. The date of the foundation of Johns Hopkins -University falls within the early period of this movement. Niven told -me that what Maxwell had been doing in the Cavendish Laboratory at -Cambridge was being done also by Maxwell’s friend, Professor Rowland, -at Johns Hopkins, founded in Baltimore in 1876. Maxwell thought very -highly of his young American friend, and undoubtedly recommended him -strongly for the physics professorship at Johns Hopkins. Just as -the establishment of the Cavendish Physics Laboratory in Cambridge -marks the beginning of a great epoch in the development of physics in -Cambridge and in Great Britain, so the organization of the physics -laboratory at Johns Hopkins by Rowland marks a new and most fruitful -era of scientific research in the United States. Rowland’s influence -had not yet been felt at Columbia College when I was a student there, -nor at many other American colleges of those days. But the forward -movement soon commenced; and the people of this country do not -understand yet as fully as they should how much they owe to the late -Henry Augustus Rowland, whom I had the honor of knowing personally and -whose friendship I enjoyed for several years. One of the aims of this -simple narrative is to throw more light upon some obscure spots of this -kind which need more illumination, and particularly upon the work of -men like “Rowland of Troy, the doughty knight,” as Maxwell referred to -him in his verses. - -Another historical fact must be mentioned here which is very -characteristic of the state of the science of physics in those days, -and which is closely connected with the progress of this science as it -appeared to me in the course of the last forty years. I mention now -another great American physicist whose name, like that of Rowland, I -first heard mentioned at Cambridge at that time, and that was Professor -Josiah Willard Gibbs, of Yale. I know that many of my young colleagues -will find it strange that I never had heard of Lord Rayleigh, of -England, before I graduated at Columbia. What will they say when they -hear that at that time I never had heard of famous Willard Gibbs, of -Yale, New Haven, U. S. A.? Will they charge me with extraordinary -ignorance, for which Columbia of those days was to blame? That would be -unjust, as the following story will prove. One evening, after dinner, -I was enjoying at the University Club, New York, the company of some -twelve Yale graduates, and one of them was the learned Professor -William Welch, dean of the Johns Hopkins Medical School. He was then -president of the National Academy of Sciences. Most of my Yale friends -present were of about my age or even older. I offered to wager that -the majority of them would fail to give the name of the scientist who, -in Doctor Welch’s opinion and in mine, was the greatest scientist that -Yale had ever graduated. Not one of them mentioned Willard Gibbs. When -I mentioned his name they frankly confessed that they had never heard -of him before. Neither they nor Yale College of those days were to -blame. Did my fellow students at Cambridge, who were training for the -mathematical tripos, ever hear of him before they came to Cambridge? -If they did, it was by accident, just as I heard of him by accident. -Such was the spirit of the times in those days; and it was against this -spirit that President Barnard of Columbia took up arms. He considered -its existence a national calamity. But I shall return to this point -later. - -I will now describe the accident just mentioned, because it is closely -connected with the main thread of my narrative. In the beginning of the -Easter term, the third term of my training under Routh, I had caught up -with my class and had spare time for outside reading. Niven was greatly -impressed by my enthusiastic eulogies of Maxwell’s little book, “Matter -and Motion,” and he suggested that I take up the reading of another -of Maxwell’s little classics, “Theory of Heat.” It was written with -the same elegant simplicity as his “Matter and Motion.” This little -text-book on heat was the first to give me a living physical picture -of the mode of operation by which heat is transformed into mechanical -work, an operation which I had watched so often in the Cortlandt -Street boiler-room. I had watched it, but I had never dreamed that the -operation could be described as Maxwell described it. According to -him it may be considered as the resultant action of non-coordinated -activities of an immense number of busy little molecules, each of -which, as far as human observers can tell, moves about lustily -according to its own sweet will. But behold the miracle: the average -activity of the countless crowd obeys with mathematical accuracy the -fundamental law for heat transformations, the so-called second law of -thermodynamics discovered by Sadi Carnot, the great French engineer. It -was Maxwell’s little classic which also informed me that in all cases -of very large numbers of individuals, whether they be active molecules -or busy human beings, exhibiting as far as an observer can tell -non-coordinated activities, we must apply the so-called statistical -method of inquiry, that is, the method which statisticians employ in -recording the activity of a nation. Newton’s dynamics, which at that -time had been the food of Cambridge for two centuries, said nothing -about that. It was a new idea in the heads of new men, who, under the -leadership of Maxwell, were creating a new and far-reaching science. -Up to that time Tyndall’s poetical description of “Heat as a Mode -of Motion” was my gospel regarding thermal phenomena, but Maxwell’s -plain and modest text-book, intended to stimulate the imagination of -the inquisitive mind of the young student, was the first to assist me -in forming my own judgment on the doctrines described by Tyndall and -illustrated by beautiful experiments. Routh’s training-table of tripos -athletes offered no such morsels of stimulating food, because these -athletes were training for tripos examinations and not for research in -physics. I will say now that it was in Maxwell’s theory of heat that -I first saw the name of Willard Gibbs, and I heard from Niven that -Maxwell held Gibbs in very high esteem. I must say also that Gibbs was -the first in this country to write a splendid treatise on statistical -mechanics. - - * * * * * - -When the Easter term approached its end in May I began to think of my -summer vacation. I needed one. Seven months of steady drilling under -Routh, supplemented by extra reading prescribed by him, and also by -the reading of Maxwell’s inspiring books, had produced results with -which I was satisfied, and so was Mr. Niven, my Trinity College mentor. -I certainly did not feel any more like a goose wandering in a fog; -I saw much light ahead, and felt much more confident that I saw the -goal for which I was steering. But my pitch was very high and I needed -de-tuning. I finally decided to visit some little place in France -and selected Pornic, on the French Atlantic coast, in the department -called Loire Inférieure. I knew nothing about it except what I had -read in Baedeker, but it looked to me like a quiet little place where -in addition to complete change of scene I should have a good chance -to learn French. The names of Laplace, La Grange, and Ampère were -mentioned so often and with so much veneration by Maxwell, that I felt -ashamed of my ignorance of the language of France. Pornic was only a -day’s journey from Cambridge, and off I went with no other books in my -bag beside Campbell’s “Life of Maxwell” and a French grammar. - -The Pornic landlady was not up to the standard of my Cambridge -landlady, but I did not complain nor make any invidious comparisons; -the English were not very popular in those days on the Atlantic coast -of France, where the oldest fishermen had not yet forgotten the -operations of the English fleet during the Napoleonic wars. I was the -only stranger in town, and when it became known that I was an American -who had come to Pornic to study the language of France the village was -mine. I engaged the village schoolmaster to give me French conversation -lessons. I met him in his garden every evening and we talked to our -hearts’ content. He was a most entertaining little fellow, with a -bald head, a red nose, and a big snuff-box to which he appealed very -frequently for a fresh supply of interesting topics of conversation. -He boasted among the villagers that his reputation as a French scholar -had reached the United States and, _voilà_, had brought me to Pornic. -I never denied it, but on the contrary I often walked through the -village streets with the good old _maître d’école_ and listened most -attentively to his French accents as if they were the rarest pearls of -wisdom. - -When the villagers found out that I was not only an American but also -a student of a great English university, then the stock of the little -schoolmaster rose sky-high. My landlady informed me that the old -curé had become quite jealous of the little man’s rapid rise in the -community. An old but renovated Norman castle was a part of Pornic; -it stood on the very edge of the steep coast and it was inhabited in -summer by a rich merchant of Nantes. The castle had a thick grove of -stately old trees, and there the nightingales revelled. On moonlight -nights I spent many watchful hours listening to their mellow notes, -accompanied by the solemn rhythm of the Atlantic waves striking gently -upon the cliffs of the rocky coast, which appeared in my imagination, -as I listened, like towering pipes of a giant organ. In daytime I -selected lonely spots on the coast and there I spent my days from early -morning till late in the afternoon memorizing my French grammar and -vocabulary. Every evening I practised for an hour or so in conversation -with my beloved _maître d’école_. This advanced my knowledge of French -very rapidly and before one month was over I could converse tolerably -well. My circle of acquaintances expanded rapidly as my knowledge of -French increased, until it took in the nightingale grove, including -the family of the merchant from Nantes. Between my friends in the -nightingale grove and my schoolmaster’s garden my conversation in -French became so fluent that it astonished the natives. They pronounced -it perfect. But discounting this enthusiastic estimate by even fifty -per cent I was still secure in my belief that I was enriched by a good -knowledge of the language of a great civilization. A two months’ visit -to Pornic had been my plan; its end was very near, and my trip was a -success. I bade good-by to my friends in little Pornic and arrived in -Paris on the following day, the fourteenth of July, 1884. - -Paris was gay, celebrating the national holiday of France, the -anniversary of the storming of the Bastille in 1789. This gave me a -chance to see many of the striking characteristics of the gay side -of Paris in a single day. The next day, while visiting the great -Sorbonne and the Collège de France in the Quartier Latin, I found a -great treasure in a second-hand bookshop: La Grange’s great treatise, -“Méchanique Analytique,” first published under the auspices of the -French Academy in 1788. La Grange, the Newton of France! There was no -student of dynamics who had not heard of his name and of his great -treatise. My two months’ stay in Pornic had enabled me to appreciate -fully the beauty of the language of this great work, and my training -with Routh had eliminated many difficulties of the mathematical -technique. I was convinced of that in my very first attempts in Paris -at deciphering some of its inspiring pages. I describe this short stay -in France at some length, because I wish to refer to it later for the -purpose of showing how little things can exert a big influence in the -shaping of human life. - - * * * * * - -I had promised my mother to visit her again during that summer, and -off I went, deserting without delay the gay scenes of Paris. On my -journey to Idvor I wasted no time looking to the right or to the left -of my speeding train; villages and towns, rivers and mountains, and the -busy folks in the yellow fields who were gathering in the blessings -of the harvest season appeared like so many passing pictures which -did not interest me. La Grange was talking to me, and I had neither -eyes nor ears for anybody or for anything else. Oh, how happy I was -when I saw Idvor in the distance, where I knew I should be free for -nearly two months during that summer to read and to reflect, free from -all restraints of the Cambridge routine. By the end of that heavenly -vacation I had mastered a good part of La Grange’s classical treatise, -and in addition I had reread carefully Campbell’s “Life of Maxwell,” -and I understood many things which I had seen in Cambridge but had not -understood before. The Cambridge movement described above was clearly -revealed to me in the course of that summer, by a careful study of -Campbell’s “Life of Maxwell.” - -Idvor was never rich in books nor in people who paid much attention to -books. To think that a native of Idvor would ever read a La Grange in -his humble peasant home seemed incredible. The natives of Idvor noticed -that, during my second visit, I was much less communicative than during -the first, on account of my devotion to what they considered some -strange books, which to those who saw them suggested sacred books. The -company of La Grange and of Maxwell kept me a prisoner in my mother’s -garden. I told my mother that Maxwell and La Grange were two great -saints in the world of science, and she regarded my reading during that -summer as a study of the lives of saints. That made her happy, but it -puzzled the good people of Idvor. Studies of this kind they associated -with priests and bishops; and, noticing that I paid much less attention -to bagpipes and kolo dancers and to other worldly things, they began to -whisper about that Misha was getting ready to enter monastic life. What -a pity, they said, to gather so much knowledge in great America and -then bury it in a monastery! - -My mother paid no attention to these idle whisperings. She knew better. -When I described to her the ancient college buildings and the beautiful -chapels of Cambridge, and the religious life of the students and of -the dons, she listened spellbound. When I related to her the many -traditions of the old university, and informed her that one learned -there, not only from the teachers living there at that time, but also -from great teachers who had long departed, a luminous expression in her -eyes told me that she was about to reveal to me an original thought. -“I go to church, my son,” she said, “not so much because I expect the -priest to reveal to me some new divine truth, but because I wish to -look at the icons of saints. That reminds me of their saintly work, -and through the contemplation of their work I communicate with God. -Cambridge is a great temple consecrated to the _eternal truth_: it is -filled with icons of the great saints of science. The contemplation of -their saintly work will enable you to communicate with the spirit of -_eternal truth_.” - -With this thought in her mind my mother was most happy when I bade her -good-by and, repeating her own words, told her that I must go back -to “Cambridge, the great temple which is consecrated to the _eternal -truth_.” “Go back, my son,” she said, “and may God be praised forever -for the blessings which you have enjoyed and will continue to enjoy in -your life among the saints of Cambridge.” - - - - -VII - -END OF STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE - - -When I returned to Cambridge from little Idvor I often thought of my -mother’s words saying that I was living among the saints of Cambridge. -These words sounded like the language which the minstrel of the old -Serbian ballads would have used, to convey the meaning which she wished -to convey. Whenever I saw one of the great dons of Cambridge, like the -famous mathematician Cayley, or the still more famous mathematical -physicist George Gabriel Stokes, the discoverer of fluorescence, I -asked myself: “Are they the saints of Cambridge?” The answer was in -the negative; most of these men were too mobile to pass for saints. -One of them, for instance, although quite old and blind, was the -stroke of a boat which was very prominent on the river Cam. Its crew -consisted of Cambridge dons. When this aged stroke was not rowing he -was riding a spirited horse, usually galloping briskly, with his young -daughter chasing alongside of him, her long golden hair, like that of -a valkyrie, lashing the air as she made strenuous efforts to keep up -with her speedy father. It was impossible to associate one’s idea of -saints with men of that type. But, nevertheless, my mother was right: -Cambridge had its saints; their memory was the great glory of Cambridge. - -_Nature_, published in London, was then, as it is to-day, the most -popular scientific weekly in the United Kingdom. Many scientists of -Cambridge used it as a medium for discussing in a popular way the -current scientific events of the day. Among the files of _Nature_, -which I consulted often, I found once a beautiful steel engraving -of Faraday, together with a brief account of Faraday’s work. It was -written by Maxwell, as I found out later. Speaking of the activity of -teachers of science, the writer said that they are expected “to bring -the student into contact with two main sources of mental growth, _the -fathers of sciences_, for whose personal influence over the opening -mind there is no substitute, and the material things to which their -labors first gave meaning.” In the light of this thought I saw that -in his two little classics, “Matter and Motion” and “Theory of Heat,” -Maxwell had brought me into contact with the fathers of dynamical -sciences, and that La Grange, in his “Méchanique Analytique,” had shown -me the men who were the fathers of the science of dynamics, and that -for this service I owed them everlasting gratitude. - -Jim, the humble fireman in the Cortlandt Street factory, told me once: -“This country, my lad, is a monument to the lives of men of brains and -character and action who made it.” From that day on the name “United -States of America” recalled to my mind Washington, Hamilton, Franklin, -Lincoln, and the other great men who are universally regarded as the -fathers of this country; and when I learned to know and to appreciate -them I felt that I was qualified to consider myself a part of this -country. Maxwell and La Grange had taught me that Archimedes, Galileo, -Newton, Carnot, Helmholtz, and other great investigators had made the -dynamical sciences; and from that time on these sciences like monuments -recalled to my mind the names of the men who made them. I never saw a -man handling a crowbar without remembering that it was the historic -lever which in the philosophy of Archimedes served as the earliest -foundation for the science of statics. The word _force_ always recalled -the picture of Galileo dropping heavy bodies from the Leaning Tower -of Pisa, and watching their uniformly accelerated motions, produced -by the force which was impelling the falling body to the earth. The -picture reminded me that by these ideally simple experiments Galileo -had banished forever the mediæval superstition that bodies fall because -they are afraid of the vacuum above, and had substituted in its place -the simple law of accelerating force, which prepared the foundation for -the science of dynamics. I never saw a moving train being brought to -a standstill by the frictional reactions of the brakes without seeing -in my imagination the image of Newton formulating his great law of -equality between physical actions and physical reactions, the crowning -point of modern dynamics. These pictures illustrated what Maxwell meant -when he spoke of the material things to which the labors of Archimedes, -Galileo, and Newton gave a meaning, and when I caught that meaning I -felt that I was no longer a stranger in the land of science. Their -highest meaning, I knew, was the recognition that the truth which they -conveyed was a part only of what my mother called the “Eternal Truth.” - -My work in Cambridge, guided principally by Maxwell and La Grange, -reminded me, therefore, continually of the fathers of the sciences -which I was studying and of the material things to which their labors -gave a meaning. These thoughts gave me a satisfactory interpretation -of my mother’s words: “Cambridge is a great temple consecrated to the -eternal truth; it is filled with icons of the great saints of science. -The contemplation of their saintly work will enable you to communicate -with the spirit of eternal truth.” My description of the scientific -activity of Cambridge had produced this image in her mind, which was -dominated by a spirit of piety and of reverence. This spirit, I always -thought, is needed in science just as much as it is in religion. It was -the spirit of Maxwell and of La Grange. - -The atmosphere of Cambridge was most favorable to the cultivation of -a spirit of reverence in scientific thought. At that time, just as -to-day, Newton’s name was the glory of Trinity College, and the name -of Darwin was regarded with the same feeling of reverence at Christ -College. Every college at Cambridge had at least one great name which -was the glory of that college. These, one may say, were the names of -the patron saints of Cambridge; their spirit was present everywhere, -and its influence was certainly wonderful. It reminded me of my -mother’s words: “May God be praised forever for the blessings which you -have enjoyed and will continue to enjoy in your life among the saints -of Cambridge.” - -It may seem strange that a Cambridge student of science should have -worried so much about interpreting his pious mother’s words in terms -of his expanding scientific knowledge. But that student was once a -Serb peasant in whose early childhood the old Serbian ballads were -his principal spiritual food. The central figure of these ballads -was Prince Marko, the national hero, who at critical moments of his -tempestuous life never appealed for aid to any man. When he needed -counsel he asked it from his aged mother Yevrosima, and when he needed -help in combat he appealed to Vila Raviyoyla, Marko’s adopted sister, -the greatest of all the fairies of the clouds. A mother can have a -wonderful influence over her boy whose early mental attitude is moulded -by impressions of that kind. When she has that influence, then she is -her boy’s oracle, and no amount of subsequent scientific training will -disturb that relationship. - -I often think of an old idea which I first conceived while a student -at Cambridge. It is this: Our American colleges and universities -should have days consecrated to the memories of what Maxwell called -the fathers of the sciences, like Copernicus, Galileo, Newton, -Faraday, Maxwell, Darwin, Helmholtz. I mention these names, having -physical sciences in mind, but similar names can be mentioned in -other departments of human knowledge. Why should not science follow -the beautiful example of religion, which has its saints’ days? On -these memorial days, say Newton’s birthday, an address on Newton and -his work should tell the young student why Newton is the father of the -science of dynamics. Dynamics is not a mere collection of inexorable -physical laws which to a young student often sound like dry scientific -facts and mute formulæ. Many text-books, unfortunately, represent -it that way. It is a record of the life-work of men who lived human -lives and became what my mother called “saints of science,” because -they devoted their life-efforts to the deciphering of divine messages -which, through physical phenomena, God addresses to man. The young -mind should know as early as possible that dynamics had its origin -in the heavens, in the motions of heavenly bodies, and that it was -brought to earth by Galileo and Newton when they had deciphered the -meaning of the divine message conveyed to them by these celestial -motions. The Greeks of old sacrificed to their gods a hecatomb of -oxen whenever one of their philosophers discovered a new theorem in -geometry, and the philosopher’s memory was praised forever. The modern -nations should not remain indifferent to the memory of the “saints of -science,” whose discoveries have advanced so much the physical and -the spiritual welfare of man. My life among the saints of Cambridge -suggested this idea, and my students, past and present, know that I -have always been loyal to it, because I always believed that in this -manner every American college and university could raise an invisible -“temple consecrated to the eternal truth” and fill it with “icons of -the great saints of science.” A spirit of reverence for the science -which the student is studying should be cultivated from the very start. -I observed that spirit among my friends, the mathematical tripos men, -at Cambridge; it was there as a part of local traditions. I certainly -felt its influence, and the longer I stayed at Cambridge the more I -felt convinced that “Cambridge is a great temple consecrated to the -eternal truth.” This enabled me to recognize while still at Cambridge -that nothing was more characteristic of the mental attitude of many -scientific men in America and in England at that time than their -reverence for the “saints of science” and their strong desire to build -great temples “consecrated to the eternal truth.” Maxwell was one of -their leaders, and the best illustration of that mental attitude. I -have already referred to this in my short allusion to the Cambridge -craving for scientific research, and I shall now attempt to describe -a much wider intellectual movement of which this craving was a local -manifestation only. I felt the force of its current during my Cambridge -days, and I recognize to-day that at that time I moved along following -more or less unconsciously the stream-lines of this current. - -The completion of the mathematical training under Routh recommended by -Niven was approaching its end, and I was satisfied with its results. -I could follow without much effort the lectures of Stokes and Lord -Rayleigh, and I could handle the mathematics of Maxwell’s theory of -electricity with considerable ease; but I did not understand his -physics. - -President Barnard, of Columbia College, said once in an address of -fifty years ago that a young student in America at that time lacked a -“knowledge of visible things and not information about them--knowledge -acquired by the learner’s own conscious efforts, not crammed into -his mind in set forms of words out of books.” His statement fitted -admirably my own case; I lacked that knowledge of visible things which -one gets from his own conscious efforts; I had no knowledge of physics -acquired from my own conscious efforts in a physical laboratory. -Neither Columbia College nor any other college in the United States, -with very few exceptions, offered at that time this opportunity to the -student. I suspected that this was the real secret of my inability to -understand Maxwell’s physics; I longed for work in a real physical -laboratory and made preparations to enter the Cavendish Laboratory at -Cambridge. But I learned, in the beginning of 1885, that Lord Rayleigh -had given up the directorship of this laboratory, and that a Mr. J.J. -Thomson of Trinity College had been appointed as his successor, the -same Thomson who is to-day Sir John Joseph Thomson, Master of Trinity -College, and the leading physicist in the world. The new director was -only twenty-eight years of age in the year of his appointment--at the -end of 1884. Although a second wrangler in the mathematical tripos -test of 1880, he was four years later already a sufficiently famous -experimental physicist to be appointed director of the Cavendish -Laboratory. The new director was only two years older than myself, but -he was already a famous experimental physicist, whereas I had never -had a physical apparatus in my hand. What will he think of me, thought -I, when I present myself to him and ask for permission to work as a -mere beginner in the Cavendish Laboratory! I blushed when I thought of -it, and I was afraid that I should blush even more when he compared -me to his younger students who had already acquired much skill in -physical manipulations. The failure of my competition with boys and -girls in the speed tests of punching biscuits in the Cortlandt Street -cracker factory came back to my memory; and I bemoaned, just as I did -in Cortlandt Street nine years before, my hard luck of having had no -earlier training. Many an American college student of physics bemoaned -in those days his lack of early laboratory training. When I say this -I am touching the principal point of my narrative; it is the point at -which my narrative begins to sail on the back of a wave which started -actually when Johns Hopkins University was organized, in 1876, but the -motive power of which had been gathering long before that, perhaps at -the same time when the motive power of the Cambridge movement in favor -of scientific research was gathering, resulting, as it had, in the -establishment of the Cavendish Laboratory. But I must resume the thread -of my story and return later to the point just mentioned. - -My lack of what Barnard called “knowledge of visible things ... -acquired by the learner’s own conscious efforts ...” gave me much -anxiety; and I often thought that it would, perhaps, be better to go -to some other university where the director of the physical laboratory -was an older man, who would not notice my age as much as would the new -and extremely young director of the Cavendish Laboratory. That thought, -however, did not console me much, because I was very much attached -to Cambridge and did not wish to give up what my mother called “life -among the saints of Cambridge.” Just then, as if by an act of kind -providence, a letter from President Barnard of Columbia College reached -me, enclosing a letter of introduction to John Tyndall, the famous -physicist, colleague and successor of Faraday in the direction of the -Royal Institution. Barnard informed me that Columbia had received a -generous sum of money from Tyndall, representing a part of the net -proceeds from his famous course of public lectures on light, which -he had delivered in the United States in 1872-1873; that the income -of this sum would be given as a fellowship to a Columbia graduate to -assist him in his study of experimental physics; that the fellowship -would be called a John Tyndall Fellowship, netting over five hundred -dollars annually; and that he and Rood, professor of physics at -Columbia, considered me a suitable candidate. Unexpected things of -this kind happen every now and then, and when they do they certainly -encourage the belief that there is such a thing as luck. - -I called on Tyndall without much delay, and delivered Barnard’s letter -of introduction. One may imagine how I felt when I saw and spoke to the -very man whose descriptions of physical phenomena had been the first -to disclose to me on the top loft of the Cortlandt Street factory the -poetical side of the physical sciences. I expected to find a scientist -looking like a poet and a dreamer, but I did not. He looked exactly -what he was: a plain and benevolent Irishman. I had seen many an old -Irishman, among my New York friends and acquaintances, who looked -exactly as Tyndall looked; and when he spoke there was also the fire, -the vigor, and the humor of the agile Irish mind. In less than the time -it takes to tell this he made me feel that I had always known him, and -that he was my old and generous friend. His questions were wonderfully -direct, just as direct, I thought, as the questions which he addressed -to physical phenomena when in his famous lectures he was deciphering -their hidden meaning. He deciphered me very quickly, I thought, as if I -were the simplest physical phenomenon which he had ever observed. The -fact, however, that I held his attention encouraged me. He apparently -attached no very great importance to my lack of early training in -experimental physics, but advised me to avoid further delay. He -informed me, by way of encouraging me, that he was over thirty when -he took his doctor’s degree at the University of Marburg, in Germany. -A lack of early advantages, he thought, could always be overcome by -redoubling one’s efforts in later years. His own career proved that. -He called my attention to a short account of the work of the famous -Helmholtz, written for _Nature_ by no less a man, he said, than -great Maxwell. This story, he thought, would show me that the great -professor at the University of Berlin did not have early advantages in -experimental physics, and that he became a professor of physics when -he was already fifty years of age. He encouraged me to apply for the -new fellowship at Columbia as soon as it became operative, and to make -up my mind quickly to migrate to the best physical laboratory that I -could find. I asked him what laboratory he would recommend and he again -directed my attention to Maxwell’s account of the work of Helmholtz. -When I was about to leave, promising, at his request, to call again, he -gave me a copy of his lectures on light, which he had delivered in the -United States thirteen years before. “Read them,” he said, “and when -you come again I shall be glad to discuss with you some of the points -of this little book; they will explain to you the full meaning of -President Barnard’s letter, and of its historical background. Read also -volume VIII of _Nature_.” - -I had read Tyndall’s lectures on light before I entered Columbia -College, but upon reading them again I found there very many things -which I had missed before. They did not, of course, describe -satisfactorily the physical properties of the luminiferous ether--no -lectures ever did--but they did describe, I thought, a bit of the -history of physical sciences in the United States which was a -revelation to me, and was, as I know now, a most important contribution -to the history of the development of scientific thought in the United -States. It deserves a prominent place in this narrative, because I had -been a witness of this development during the past forty years. - - * * * * * - -[Illustration: JOSEPH HENRY (1799-1878)] - -Joseph Henry, the most distinguished American physicist, together with -other distinguished American scientists, among them President Barnard -of Columbia College, invited Tyndall, in 1872, to deliver a course of -lectures in some of the principal cities in the United States. The -object of these lectures was, quoting Tyndall’s words, “to show the -uses of experiment in the cultivation of natural knowledge,” hoping -that this “would materially promote scientific education in this -country.” Tyndall delivered his famous course of six lectures on light -in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington. Joseph -Henry, as secretary of the Smithsonian Institution and president of the -National Academy of Sciences, took them under his personal direction. -The success of these lectures surpassed even the most sanguine -expectations. At the farewell dinner to Tyndall some of the wisest -scientific intellects of the land were heard, and their words indicated -clearly what was the uppermost thought in the minds of the scientific -men of the United States when they invited Tyndall. I quote here some -of the words spoken by these men. - -President Barnard of Columbia, the first American expounder of the -undulatory theory of light, said: - - I say, then, that our long-established and time-honored system of - liberal education ... does not tend to form original investigators - of nature’s truths.... - - Among the great promoters of scientific progress ... how large is - the number who may, in strict propriety, be said to have educated - themselves? Take, for illustration, such familiar names as those - of William Herschel, and Franklin, and Rumford, and Rittenhouse, - and Davy, and Faraday, and Henry. Is it not evident that nature - herself, to those who will follow her teachings, is a better guide - to the study of her own phenomena than all the training of our - schools? And is not this because nature invariably begins with the - training of the observing faculties? - - The moral of this experience is, that mental culture is not secured - by pouring information into passive recipients; it comes from - stimulating the mind to gather knowledge for itself.... If we would - fit man properly to cultivate nature ... our earliest teachings - must be things and not words. - -Doctor John William Draper, the world-renowned American investigator of -the laws of radiation from hot bodies, said: - - Nowhere in the world are to be found more imposing political - problems than those to be settled here; nowhere a greater need - of scientific knowledge. I am not speaking of ourselves alone, - but also of our Canadian friends on the other side of the St. - Lawrence. We must join together in generous emulation of the best - that is done in Europe.... Together we must try to refute what De - Tocqueville has said about us, that communities such as ours can - never have a love of pure science. - -Andrew White, President of Cornell, said: - - I will confine myself to the value, in our political progress, - of the spirit and example of some of the scientific workers of - our day and generation. What is the example which reveals that - spirit? It is an example of _zeal_, zeal in search for the truth - ... of _thoroughness_--of the truth sought in its wholeness ... of - _bravery_, to brave all outcry and menace ... of _devotion_ to duty - without which no scientific work can be accomplished ... of _faith_ - that truth and goodness are inseparable. - - The reverence for scientific achievement, the revelation of the - high honors which are in store for those who seek for truth in - science--the inevitable comparison between a life devoted to - the great pure search, on the one hand, and a life devoted to - place-hunting or self-grasping on the other--all these shall come - to the minds of thoughtful men in lonely garrets of our cities, in - remote cabins of our prairies, and thereby shall come strength and - hope for higher endeavor. - -Tyndall responded in part as follows: - - It would be a great thing for this land of incalculable destinies - to supplement its achievements in the industrial arts by those - higher investigations from which our mastery over nature and over - industrial art itself has been derived.... To no other country is - the cultivation of science, in its highest form, of more importance - than to yours. In no other country would it exert a more benign - and elevating influence.... Let chairs be founded, sufficiently - but not luxuriously endowed, which shall have original research - for their main object and ambition.... The willingness of American - citizens to throw their fortunes into the cause of public education - is, as I have already stated, without parallel in my experience. - Hitherto their efforts have been directed to the practical side of - science.... But assuredly among your men of wealth there are those - willing to listen to an appeal on higher grounds.... It is with - the view of giving others the chance that I enjoyed,[I cannot find - a reason for this comma, it results in a pause where there should - not be one] among my noble and disinterested German teachers, that - I propose, after deducting, with strict accuracy, the sums which - have been actually expended on my lectures, _to devote every cent - of the money which you have so generously poured in upon me to the - education of young American philosophers in Germany_. - -[Illustration: JOHN TYNDALL (1820-1893) - - From a photograph taken about 1885] - -What a splendid example to the men of wealth to whom Tyndall was -appealing! We shall see later that the appeal was not made in vain. - -But the sentiments expressed at this dinner were echoes, only, of -Tyndall’s thundering voice, to which America listened spellbound when -he delivered the last of his course of six lectures on light. In the -last part of this lecture, called “Summary and Conclusions,” he first -erected what my mother would have called “a temple consecrated to the -eternal truth” which we call light, and in that temple he placed what -she would have called “the icons of the saints of the science” of -light. The names of Alhazan, Vitellio, Roger Bacon, Kepler, Snellius, -Newton, Thomas Young, Fresnel, Stokes, and Kirchhoff stood there like -so many icons of saints which one sees on the altars of orthodox -churches. In this he surpassed, I thought, even Maxwell and La Grange, -and that was saying a great deal. He stood in the middle of that temple -and challenged the statement once made by De Tocqueville that “the man -of the North has not only experience but knowledge. He, however, does -not care for science as a pleasure, and only embraces it with avidity -when it leads to useful applications.” Tyndall proceeded to draw a -clear distinction between science and its applications, pointing out -that technical education without original investigations will “lose -all force and growth, all power of reproduction,” just “as surely as a -stream dwindles when the spring dies out.” “The original investigator,” -said Tyndall, “constitutes the fountainhead of knowledge. It belongs -to the teacher to give this knowledge the requisite form; an honorable -and often difficult task. But it is a task which receives its final -sanctification when the teacher himself honestly tries to add a rill to -the great stream of scientific discovery. Indeed, it may be doubted -whether the real life of science can be fully felt and communicated -by the man who has not himself been taught by direct communion with -nature. We may, it is true, have good and instructive lectures from -men of ability, the whole of whose knowledge is second-hand, just as -we may have good and instructive sermons from intellectually able and -unregenerate men. But for that power of science which corresponds to -what the Puritan fathers would call experimental religion in the heart, -you must ascend to the original investigator.” - -Many more passages could be quoted from Tyndall’s “Summary and -Conclusions” of his American lectures. Suffice it to say here that the -cause of scientific research in this country never had a more eloquent -advocate than Tyndall. The message which he delivered in his American -lecture tour in 1872-1873 was heard and heeded in every part of the -United States and of the British Empire. It is no exaggeration to say -that the response to this call was the movement for scientific research -in American colleges and universities which dates from those memorable -years. It was in its earliest days under the leadership of the famous -Joseph Henry, President Barnard, and other American scientists who had -associated themselves in the National Academy of Sciences which was -chartered by an act of Congress in 1863. - -I shall try to show in the course of this narrative that it was the -greatest intellectual movement in the United States, producing results -of which nobody could even have dreamed fifty years ago; and the end is -not yet in sight. - -Tyndall had called my attention to volume VIII of _Nature_. The -article on Faraday I had read before, but there were a large number -of other communications advocating strongly the stimulation of -scientific research in colleges and universities. Tyndall’s “Summary -and Conclusions” had aroused a deep interest in my mind for these -things, and besides, they furnished a most welcome sidelight upon the -Cambridge movement which, as described above, I had felt before I -met Tyndall. The University of Cambridge was severely criticised in -these communications by some Cambridge dons themselves on account of -the alleged entire absence of the scientific research stimulus. One -of these criticisms is so characteristic of the feeling of Cambridge -in 1873 that it deserves a special reference. It is in volume VIII -of _Nature_ and is entitled: “A Voice from Cambridge.” A very brief -abstract follows: - - It is known all over the world that science is all but dead in - England. By science, of course, we mean that searching for new - knowledge which is its own reward.... It is also known that science - is perhaps deadest of all at our universities. Let any one compare - Cambridge, for instance, with any German university; nay, with even - some provincial offshoots of the University of France.... What, - then, do the universities do? They perform the functions, for too - many of their students, of first-grade schools merely, and that - in a manner about which opinions are divided; and superadded to - these is an enormous examining engine, on the most approved Chinese - model, always at work.... - -Not even President Barnard could have uttered a more severe criticism! -The most forcible appeal was made by the president of the British -Association for the Advancement of Science at its meeting in Bradford, -in September, 1873. This I also found in volume VIII of _Nature_. These -stirring appeals were published several months after Tyndall’s lecture -tour in the United States, and they all sounded to me like so many -echoes of the thundering voice with which he delivered the “Summary and -Conclusions” of his American lectures. - -These studies, recommended by Tyndall, gave me a view of science -which I did not have before. I caught a glimpse of it from the books -of Maxwell and La Grange, to which I referred above. The realms of -science are a strange land to a youth who enters them, just as the -United States was a strange land to me when I landed at Castle Garden. -Maxwell, La Grange, and Tyndall were the first to teach me how to -catch the spirit of the strange land of science, and when I caught it -I felt as confident as I did in Cortlandt Street after I had read and -understood the early historical documents of the United States. I knew -that soon I should be able to apply for citizenship in that great state -called science. These were the thoughts which I carried with me when I -started out for my second visit to Tyndall. - -When I called on Tyndall again, a month or so after my first visit, -I took along a definite plan for my future work. This pleased him, -because he had advised me that every youth must think through his own -head, the same advice which was given me some years later by Professor -Willard Gibbs, of Yale. I assured Tyndall that my second reading of the -“Summary and Conclusions,” his sixth American lecture, had cleared my -vision, and that I knew perfectly what my next step should be. He was -much amused when I told him how, eighteen months before, I had wandered -into Cambridge like a goose into a fog, and asked me where I got that -expression. I told him that it was a Serbian saying, and he looked -perfectly surprised when I told him that I was a Serb by birth. - -“Well, I did not decipher you as quickly as you said I did. I thought,” -said he, referring to my habit of emphasizing the sound of the letter -_r_ in my pronunciation, “that you were a native American of Scotch -ancestry.” “Why not of Irish?” asked I, entering into his jocose mood. -“Ah, my young friend,” said he, with a merry twinkle in his eye, “you -are too deliberate and too cautious to suggest the Irish type. I do not -know what I would have thought had I seen you when you wandered into -Cambridge ‘like a goose into a fog.’” - -He was evidently much impressed by my careful analysis of his “Summary -and Conclusions” and of its effect upon the minds of American and -English scientists. Seeing that he enjoyed informal conversation and -encouraged it, I told him of my Alpine experiences in Switzerland and -of the anxiety I caused to my English acquaintance because I was far -from being “too deliberate and too cautious.” “Well,” said he, “I might -have suspected an Irish ancestry if I had met you in Switzerland twenty -months ago. But you have changed wonderfully since that time, and if -you keep it up the goose that came to Cambridge may be quite a swan -when it departs from Cambridge.” - -I informed Tyndall that Maxwell’s glowing account of Helmholtz, which -I had seen in Campbell’s life of Maxwell, and in _Nature_, to which he -had referred me, had decided me to migrate from Cambridge to Berlin -and take up the study of experimental physics in Helmholtz’s famous -laboratory. He looked pleased, and referring good-naturedly to my goose -simile again, he said jokingly: “You are no longer a goose in a fog. -Let Helmholtz decide whether you are a swan or not.” Then, growing more -serious, he added: “You will find in the Berlin laboratory the very -things which my American and British friends and I should like to see -in operation in all college and university laboratories in America and -in the British Empire. In this respect the Germans have been leading -the world for over forty years, and they have been splendid leaders.” -This, then, was the reason, I thought, why, twelve years before, -Tyndall said to his New York friends: “I propose ... to devote every -cent of the money which you have so generously poured in upon me to the -education of young American philosophers in Germany.” - -I ventured to address to the very informal Tyndall the following -informal question: “Since in your opinion I am no longer a goose in a -fog, you will have no objection if I apply to the Columbia authorities -to send me as their ‘young American philosopher,’ as their first -Tyndall fellow, to Berlin, will you?” “No, my friend,” said he, “I have -already urged you to do so. Remember, however, that a Tyndall fellow -must never permit himself to wander like a goose in a fog, but must -strive to carry his head high up like a swan, his body floating upon -the clear waters of stored-up human knowledge, and his vision, mounted -on high, searching for new communications with the spirit of eternal -truth, as your mother expressed it so well.” He liked my mother’s -expressions, “temple consecrated to the eternal truth,” and “the icons -of the great saints of science.” - -I will add here that Tyndall’s mental attitude toward science appeared -to me to be the same as my mother’s mental attitude toward religion. -God was the great spiritual background of her religion, and the works -of the prophets and of the saints were, according to her faith, the -only sources from which the human mind can draw the light which will -illuminate this great spiritual background. Hence, as I said before, -her fondness for and her remarkable knowledge of the words of the -prophets and the lives of saints. The “eternal truth” was, according -to my understanding at that time, the sacred background of Tyndall’s -scientific faith, and the works of the great scientific discoverers, -their lives, and their methods of inquiry into physical phenomena were -the only sources from which the human mind can draw the light which -will illuminate that sacred background. He nourished that faith with -a religious devotion, and his appeals in the name of that faith were -irresistible. His friends in America and in England, who were glad to -have him as their advocate of the cause of scientific research, had the -same faith that he had, and they nourished it with the same religious -devotion. I know to-day, and I suspected it at that time, that this -faith was kindled and kept alive in the hearts of those men both here -and in the British Empire by the light of the life and of the wonderful -discoveries of Michael Faraday, and by the prophetic vision which led -this great scientist to his discoveries. He was their contemporary and -his achievements, like a great search-light, showed them the true path -of scientific progress. - -My last visit to Tyndall took place toward the end of the last, that -is, the Easter, term, and when I returned to Cambridge I informed my -friends that at the end of the term I would migrate to Berlin. It was -not necessary for me to assure them how badly I felt to leave what they -often heard me call “the saints and the sacred precincts of Cambridge”; -they knew of my reverence for the place and they also knew my reasons -for that reverence. They understood my reverent devotion to the memory -of Newton, but they did not quite understand my similar devotion to the -memory of Maxwell. How could they? None of his classics were necessary -in order to solve the problems usually served before the candidates -for the mathematical tripos honors. Neither could they understand my -admiration for La Grange, who, in their opinion, was only an imperfect -interpreter of Newton. Helmholtz they appreciated more, but the exalted -opinion which Maxwell had of Helmholtz had not yet penetrated among my -mathematical chums at Cambridge. They were sorry to lose me, they said, -but they did not envy me, because they did not see that Berlin had -anything which Cambridge did not have. This never was the opinion of -Maxwell and it was not at that time the opinion of Tyndall. - -Tyndall was the only physicist that I had ever met who had known -Faraday personally. He was Faraday’s co-worker in the Royal Institution -for many years, and to him and Maxwell I owe my earliest knowledge -of Faraday’s wonderful personality. Tyndall conducted me into that -knowledge by word of mouth, and his conversation about Faraday’s -personality and scientific temperament thrilled me. I told him that -I had bought in a Cambridge second-hand book-shop three volumes of -Faraday’s “Electrical Researches” for three shillings, and Tyndall -remarked: “Faraday is still quite cheap at Cambridge.” Then, after some -meditation, he added: “Read them; their story is just as new and as -stirring to-day as it was when these volumes were first printed. They -will help you much to interpret Maxwell.” He presented me with a copy -of his story, “Faraday as a Discoverer,” which closes with the words: - - “Just and faithful knight of God.” - -In this book Tyndall drew the same picture of Faraday which Campbell -had given me of Maxwell. One can imagine what it meant to the world to -bring these two spiritual and intellectual giants into personal contact -during the period of 1860-1865, when Maxwell was professor at King’s -College, London, and Faraday was at the Royal Institution, where he -had been for nearly sixty years. It was significant that at the close -of that period, that is, in January, 1865, Maxwell, in a letter to an -intimate friend, said this: - -“I have a paper afloat, with an electromagnetic theory of light, which, -till I am convinced to the contrary, I hold to be great guns.” - -A very strong claim made by the most modest of men! The paper was -presented during that year to the Royal Society and was “great guns.” -It marks, like Newton’s discovery of the law of gravitation and his -formulation of the laws of dynamics, a new epoch in science. In Maxwell -I saw a Newton of the electrical science, but I confess that in those -days nothing more substantial than my youthful enthusiasm justified -me in that opinion. I was aware that my knowledge of Faraday’s -discoveries and of Maxwell’s interpretation of them was quite hazy, -and I made up my mind to get more light before I started out for Berlin. - -The summer vacation was on and I decided to take Faraday’s “Electrical -Researches” to Scotland, the land of Maxwell. In the preface to his -great--and to me, at that time, enigmatic--electrical treatise Maxwell -modestly had stated that he was an interpreter, only, of Faraday. But -I was delighted when I heard Tyndall’s suggestion that Faraday would -help me to interpret Maxwell. Perhaps, thought I, the invigorating air -of Maxwell’s native Scotland would help me to catch some of the ideas -which Maxwell had caught when he was reading Faraday. I selected what -I thought would be a quiet and secluded spot, the island of Arran. -It belonged to the Duke of Hamilton, and I was told that his grace -had imposed so many restrictions upon his tenants that the island -had become an ideal spot for those who sought seclusion. I found -there a neat little inn at Corrie. It was surrounded by several tiny -cottages for summer visitors who took their meals at the inn. It was -popular with people from Glasgow, Greenock, and Paisley. Every one -of the visiting families was blessed with numerous daughters. They -were very athletic and played tennis from early morning till late in -the afternoon, interrupted now and then by swimming contests in the -frigid waters of the Firth of Clyde. In the evening there was lively -dancing--not easy-going waltzing, but the real fling and reel of the -strenuous Highland type. “What a sturdy race this is,” I said to -myself, as I watched the dancers working themselves up into a frenzy -of rhythmic movements, one hand resting upon the hip, the other raised -high up in the air, while their joyful limbs were pumping up and down -in perfect rhythm as if they were busy pulling up from mother earth all -the earthly joys stored up there for mortal man. The whole scene was -particularly thrilling to me when a piper came along and furnished the -music. The bagpipes reminded me of my native Idvor, and made me feel at -home in bonny Scotland before I had been much over a week in Arran. The -Scotch and the Serbs have many things in common, and I always believed -that somewhere back in the history of Iran they must have belonged to -the same tribe. I am told that at the Macedonian front the Scotch and -the Serbian soldiers got along beautifully, as if they had known each -other from time immemorial, and they had little use for the other races -assembled there. I got along at Corrie as if I had known the Scotch all -my life. But that had its disadvantages also. I came to Corrie looking -for seclusion where, undisturbed, I could communicate with Faraday. -But the lively lassies from Glasgow, Greenock, and Paisley, the tennis -and the swimming contests, the fascinating sound of the bagpipes -accompanying the stirring Highland dances--all these things whispered -into my ear: “Faraday can wait, but your friends here cannot.” Then I -remembered a passage in one of Maxwell’s letters, given in Campbell’s -life of Maxwell, which said: “Well, work is good and reading is good, -but friends are better.” What a splendid excuse for joining the lassies -and the lads at Corrie and revelling in the healthful pursuits of their -youthful exuberance! Besides, said I to myself, have I not accomplished -enough during my eighteen months’ drilling under Routh, Maxwell, La -Grange, Rayleigh, Stokes, and Tyndall to deserve a complete change of -mental and physical activity? When a person looks for an excuse to do -what he or she likes to do a splendid excuse can always be found, and -so I bade a temporary farewell to Faraday’s “Electrical Researches,” -and joined the playful activities of my Corrie friends, challenging -them to go the limit. In tennis and swimming I held my own, but the -Highland reels floored me every time, until Madge, one of the sturdy -lassies from Greenock, by persistent private instruction finally -succeeded in initiating me into the mysteries of the Highland rhythm. -Glen Sannox, near Corrie, with its rich bed of heather, watched me -often by the hour making many futile efforts to catch this rhythm and -make my limbs obey it. Nobody else watched these efforts in lonely -Glen Sannox excepting Madge, and she, I told her, had more fun than -a Bosnian gypsy training his bear. I can still hear the slopes of -Glen Sannox echoing the clear notes of her ringing laughter, whenever -I made an awkward and clumsy movement in my persistent efforts to -master the Highland fling or reel. She could not help it, and I did -not mind it, because I had made up my mind to do the trick or die. -Finally I did it, not very well, but well enough for a fellow who was -not a Scotchman, and Madge presented me with my portrait in pencil, -which she drew during the intermissions between my efforts to master -the art of the Highland dances. That was my reward and it was a very -good one; she was a most promising young artist who had won several -prizes in the Greenock art school. The memory of this experience always -recalled to my mind the thoughts which went through my head at that -time--the thoughts, namely, that Scotch originality, individuality, -and sturdiness are hard to follow, not only when a foreigner meets -these wonderful qualities in the mental activity of a Scot, like the -mental activity of a Maxwell, but also in physical activity like that -displayed in the national dances of Scotland. One does not appreciate -fully the wonderful qualities of the Scot until he tries to master -the theory and the practice of the Highland fling or reel. Maxwell’s -electrical theory, I thought, might be just as different from other -electrical theories as the Highland dances are different from the -dances of other nations. I found out later that my guess was not very -far from the truth. - -Several years ago I was driving through the streets of London, -visiting England again after an absence of many years. Suddenly I saw -a crowd watching a Scotch dancer. The dancer was a young woman in -Highland costume, and she was dancing the sword dance exquisitely; -her husband was playing the bagpipes, marching up and down with all -the swagger of the Scotch Highlander. I stopped my cab, got out, and -watched. The memories of Corrie and Oban and of the gathering of the -clans there which I witnessed while at Arran came back, and I was -thrilled. Presently the dancer reached me in her tour soliciting -voluntary contributions. I threw a sovereign into her plate and she -looked surprised and asked me whether I had not made a mistake. -“Yes,” said I, “I did make a mistake when I went out with only one -sovereign in my pocket. If I had two you should have them both.” “Are -you a Scotchman, sir?” she asked jokingly, and when I said “No” she -smiled and said: “I did not think you were.” She knew that there was a -fundamental difference between a Scot and a Serb. - -After I had been at Corrie for about a month a letter arrived from -my mother, written by my oldest sister, telling me how happy she was -that I had decided to spend my summer in Scotland for the purpose of -meditating over the life and the work of one of the greatest “saints of -science.” I meant Faraday when I wrote to her. She also told me that -Idvor was fearfully dusty on account of a long-continued drought, and -that the crops were poor and the vintage prospects even poorer, and -that Idvor was not a very cheerful place during that summer for anybody -who wished to meditate free from complaints of grumbling neighbors. -“Berlin, I am told, is much nearer to Idvor and when you are there you -can always run down to Idvor, much more easily than you can now,” she -said, closing her letter, in which logic and motherly love vied with -each other to furnish her with a consolation for my absence from Idvor -during that summer. - -My mother’s letter made me feel guilty and it called for a -reconsideration of my first resolution, adopted a month earlier, which -authorized me to bid a temporary farewell to Faraday’s “Electrical -Researches”; and I passed another resolution rescinding my first. -But the question arose, how to carry it into effect. The answer was -obvious: bid good-by to Corrie. My friends, however, suggested a less -obvious but certainly a much more agreeable answer. “Go up and live in -the Macmillan homestead, and read your Faraday there in the morning -and come down to Corrie for dinner, late in the afternoon,” suggested -Madge, and the suggestion was adopted without a dissenting voice on the -part of my young friends. - -The Macmillan homestead was a very humble old cottage located half-way -between Corrie and the top of Goat Fell Mountain, the highest point on -the island of Arran. An old crofter and his wife lived there, leading -one of the most frugal existences that I had ever seen anywhere. -They were willing to furnish me with lodging and simple breakfast, -consisting of tea and oatmeal porridge with some bread covered with -a thin layer of American lard. I did not object; I was prepared to -take up low living and high thinking for the love of Michael Faraday. -Communion with Faraday from early morning until four in the afternoon, -and after that any play that came along, with plenty of dancing in the -evening, was a splendid combination. Practically one solid meal a day, -my dinner at the Corrie inn, supplied the fuel for all this activity, -and it did it satisfactorily. How could I complain? The man whose -wonderful scientific discoveries I was absorbing each day started life -as a bookbinder’s apprentice, and the founder of the great Macmillan -publishing-house was born and passed his boyhood days in the humble -cottage where I was lodging. I was sure that in their youth they -never had more than one solid meal a day and they prospered. My rapid -absorption and digestion of the mental food which Faraday offered I -attributed to my avoidance of superfluous physical food, but I must -confess that I was quite hungry when dinner was served at the Corrie -inn, and I enjoyed it immensely. - -I never understood the full meaning of low living and high thinking -as well as I did while I was a lodger at the Macmillan homestead. -My thinking machinery, I thought, never worked better, and even my -vision, always very good, seemed to be better than ever before. On -exceptionally clear days I was sure that from the high elevation of the -Macmillan cottage, on the slope of Goat Fell Mountain, I could see the -beautiful Firth of Clyde as far as Greenock and Paisley, and at times -even the gray and gloomy edifices of Glasgow seemed to loom up in the -distance. I bragged about it, but my friends at Corrie met my bragging -by informing me, jokingly, that any Scotchman can see much farther than -that. One of them, a pupil of Sir William Thomson at the University of -Glasgow, met my bragging by the epigrammatic question: “Can you see in -Faraday as far as Maxwell, the Scotchman, saw?” I never bragged again -about my vision while I was in Scotland. I was certain, however, that -from the Macmillan homestead on the slopes of Goat Fell Mountain I -obtained a deeper view into Faraday’s discoveries than I could have -obtained in any other place. I seldom mention the names of Faraday and -Maxwell without recalling to memory the beautiful island of Arran and -the humble Macmillan homestead on Goat Fell Mountain. - - - - -VIII - -STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN - - -Every period in the history of mankind had its revelation in science. -Some periods were most fortunate in this respect. The first half of -the nineteenth century saw the great scientific revelation called the -Principle of Conservation of Energy, and considered it its greatest -glory. Our own American philosopher, Benjamin Thompson, of Woburn, -Massachusetts, known in Europe as Count Rumford, was one of several -early prophets in science who foresaw the advent of this great -dynamical doctrine. Its importance to mankind cannot be overestimated. -I am sure that many a scientific man of those days felt grateful to -heaven for the blessing of having lived during the age when that great -revelation was received by mankind. The scientific men of to-day are -grateful for having lived during the second half of the nineteenth -century, when the great electromagnetic theory was revealed to man. Its -importance, likewise, cannot be overestimated. But there is a radical -difference in the historical progress of these two nineteenth-century -revelations in science. The existence of the first was intuitively -foreseen and may be said to have existed in one form or another in -the minds of many scientific men long before it received its final -form of statement. Its formulator, Helmholtz, thought that he was not -announcing anything new, but was only stating his own view of something -that was already well known. After his announcement, in 1847, every -scientific man accepted the revelation as an almost self-evident truth. -The electromagnetic theory of light and of matter had a different -history. It was born as a dim vision in the mind of a single man, -Faraday, and nearly fifty years elapsed before it was formulated by -Maxwell and experimentally demonstrated by Hertz. It was only then that -the world began to understand that a great scientific revelation had -appeared to man. To-day we know that new physical concepts requiring -a new language for their expression had to be created in the minds of -scientific men before the modern electromagnetic doctrine could be -revealed to the world. The first glimpses of that revelation I caught -on the slope of Goat Fell Mountain, and two years later I saw in Berlin -what I believed to be a clear outline of its meaning. - -When I look back to those days and consider how few were the physicists -who had caught this meaning even twenty years after it was stated by -Maxwell in 1865, I wonder whether it is possible to-day to convey that -meaning to people who are not trained physicists. I think it is, and I -believe that the attempt should be made, because the electromagnetic -doctrine is to-day recognized to be the very foundation of all our -knowledge of physical phenomena. I also think that one of the best -methods of conveying that meaning is to describe my early attempts -which failed to catch it. - -[Illustration: _From a photograph by John Watkins, London_ - - MICHAEL FARADAY - - Reproduced from Volume II of “The Scientific Papers of - James Clerk Maxwell,” edited by W. D. Niven. By - permission of the publishers, The University Press, - Cambridge] - -Faraday’s discoveries in the electrical science during the first half -of the nineteenth century attracted worldwide attention and admiration. -I knew that much at Arran, and I also knew of the rapid growth of the -practical applications of his discoveries, to telegraphy, to generation -of electrical power for electrical lighting, electrical traction, -and electrochemical work, and finally to telephonic transmission of -speech. The world understood that all these wonderful things, which -contributed so much to the comforts of mankind, came from those sources -in the realm of abstract science which were opened up by Faraday’s -discoveries. Scientific research began to assume a different aspect -even in the eyes of the captains of industry who in those days showed -lamentable indifference to science which did not promise immediate -tangible returns. The advocates of scientific research, like Tyndall -and his American and British friends, pointed with pride to Faraday’s -work whenever a question arose concerning the practical value of -research in the domain of the so-called abstract physical sciences. -This helped very much to arouse in this country and in Great Britain -a deeper interest in what Andrew White called “strength and hope for -higher endeavor.” - -But Tyndall’s and Maxwell’s descriptions of Faraday and of his work -convinced me that Faraday’s exalted position among his contemporaries -like Maxwell, Henry, Tyndall, and Barnard was due not so much to the -immediate practical value of his electrical discoveries, great as -that value certainly was, as it was to the clear vision with which -he searched for and revealed new morsels of the _eternal truth_. It -was clear to me even at that time that inventions are the handwork of -mortal man and that, though at first they appeal to us, as they ought -to, as wonderful creations of human ingenuity, their ultimate fate is -to become more or less commonplace. The telegraph and the telephone, -the dynamo and the motor, the light of the electrical arc and of the -incandescent filament, had lost much of their awe-inspiring character -even at the time when I was a student at Cambridge. Inventions grow old -and are superseded by other inventions, and, being the creation of the -constructive schemes of mortal man, are themselves mortal. But the laws -which the stars and the planets obey and have always obeyed in their -paths through the heavens are unchangeable; they never grow old, and -therefore they are immortal; they are a part of the _eternal truth_. -We do not know of any natural processes by which eternal things have -been evolved. Their existence is the best philosophic proof that back -of all this changeable visible world there is the unchangeable, the -eternal divinity. Archimedes, Galileo, and Newton co-operated in the -discovery of immutable laws, and thereby revealed to mortal man morsels -of the _eternal truth_. Oerstedt, a hundred years ago, discovered a -morsel of the eternal truth when he discovered the magnetic force which -is produced by the motion of electricity. Discoveries of immortal -things and of the immutable laws which direct the mission of their -immortal existence are themselves immortal. Their discoverers are, and -deserve to be, immortal. Tyndall and Maxwell were the first to show me -that Faraday occupied a distinguished place among such immortals as -Archimedes, Galileo, Newton, and Oerstedt. - -The closing sentence of Maxwell’s biographical sketch of Faraday, in -vol. VIII of _Nature_, referred to above, reads as follows: - - We are probably ignorant even of the name of the science which will - develop out of the materials we are now collecting, when the great - philosopher next after Faraday makes his appearance. - -To me these prophetic words indicated that Maxwell had something in -his mind which was not explicitly expressed in Faraday’s discoveries, -but which enabled Maxwell to speak like a prophet. The words of a -prophet are not always easy to understand. I discovered later that, -when the world with the aid of the Hertzian experiments had caught -Maxwell’s meaning, then a new and wonderful epoch in the history of -the physical sciences was inaugurated. Its end is not yet in sight. -This inauguration I witnessed during my student days in Berlin. It is, -I believe, of considerable interest to record here how the scientific -world, as I saw it at that time, appeared to be preparing to receive -the great revelation which was delivered to it on that historic -inauguration day in 1887. - -My communion with Faraday on the island of Arran began my own -preparation for this inauguration day by developing gradually in my -mind new physical concepts, which I discovered later to be fundamental -physical concepts in the modern views of physics. Long before I -had finished my reading of Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in -Electricity,” I began to understand why Tyndall, referring to them, -said: “Read them; their story is just as new and as stirring to-day as -it was when these volumes were first printed. They will help you much -to interpret Maxwell.” The same statement is true to-day, and therefore -I proceed now, with much trepidation, to tell a part at least of that -story as briefly as I can, in order to describe, even if it be quite -inadequately, Faraday’s relation to the present great epoch of modern -physics, the epoch of the electromagnetic view not only of _light_ but -also of _matter_. - -The gradual development of this view was due to the gradual development -of new physical concepts which were born in Faraday’s mind and existed -there as a poetical vision; but in Maxwell’s mind they appeared as -physical quantities having definite quantitative relations to other -well-known physical quantities, which a physicist can measure in his -laboratory. In every creative physicist there is hidden a metaphysicist -and a poet; but the physicist is less apt to persist in his occasional -errors as metaphysicist and poet, because the creations of his -speculative mind and of his poetical vision can be subjected to crucial -experimental tests. - -Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in Electricity,” published in three -thick volumes, looked like very long reading. But my studies at Arran -soon convinced me that no reading is long which continually stirs up -the interest of the eager reader. Faraday was a pioneer in science, and -the descriptions of his explorations read like tales from a new world -of physical phenomena, full of poetical visions which his discoveries -suggested to his imagination. It must be said, however, that in spite -of his wonderful imagination and his free use of it, no investigator -ever succeeded better than Faraday in drawing a sharp line of division -between the new facts and principles which he had discovered and the -visions which his imagination saw in the still unexplored background of -his discoveries. For instance, his discovery that a perfectly definite -and invariable quantity of electricity is, as we express it to-day, -attached to every valency of an atom and molecule, expresses a physical -law which his experiments revealed and which he illuminated with all -the light of his brilliant intellect. But when this new and precious -morsel of the eternal truth had been disclosed by his experiments, then -Faraday the scientist stepped aside, and Faraday the poet disclosed his -visions about the constitution of matter suggested by what I called at -Arran the atomic distribution of electricity in material bodies. - -A man who discovers one of the most remarkable facts in modern science, -namely, that in every atom and molecule there are definite and equal -quantities of positive and negative electricity, and that the forces -between these electricities are by far the largest known forces which -keep together the components of chemical structures, cannot, if he has -the imagination of a discoverer, refrain from asking the question: -“What is matter?” The reader of Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in -Electricity” rejoices whenever Faraday, the poet and prophet, asks an -apparently speculative question of this kind, because he knows that he -will be thrilled by the poetical fancy which dictates Faraday’s answer. -Faraday’s new facts and principles revealed by experiment are steeped -in the honey of his fancy; they are rich food made delicious by the -flavor of his poetical imagination, even when that flavor leaves the -ordinary mortal guessing as to its exact meaning. - -Two other questions Faraday often approached in these researches; they -may be stated as follows: What is electricity? and, What is magnetism? -He discovered that motion of magnetism produces electrical forces in -a manner similar to that in which, according to Oerstedt’s discovery, -motion of electricity produces magnetic forces. This remarkable -reciprocal relation between electricity and magnetism stirs up the -imagination, and makes it eager to look behind the curtain which -separates the region of the revealed truth from that which is still -unrevealed. It was undoubtedly this eagerness of the explorer which -encouraged Faraday to approach the questions, What is electricity? -and, What is magnetism? Faraday never gave a final answer to these -questions, but his magnificent efforts to find this answer gave birth -to new ideas which are the foundation of our modern electromagnetic -view of physical forces. One of the great pleasures of my life has been -the contemplation of the gradual unfolding of this new view; and if in -the course of this simple narrative I succeed in describing some of its -beauties, I shall consider that this narrative was not written in vain. - -Since, as explicitly stated by Faraday, electricity and magnetism are -known by the forces, only, which they exert, it was plain to him, -as his books, “Experimental Researches in Electricity,” testify, -that the first question which must be answered was the question: -How are the forces between electrical charges and between magnetic -charges transmitted through the intervening space--the same way as -gravitational forces, or are they transmitted in a different way? In -his unceasing efforts to answer this question Faraday made a radical -and fundamental departure from the view of the natural philosophers -of his time. He stood alone and devoted a very large part of his -experimental work and of his philosophical thought to the justification -of his position. He stood alone for a very long time, because he was -formulating a radically new physical concept which the world knows -now to be one of the most fundamental concepts of the electromagnetic -science of to-day; and it was difficult for his contemporaries and for -his students of forty years ago, including myself, to understand him. -In an address on Faraday by Helmholtz, which I read during my student -days in Berlin, the following sentence refers to Faraday’s difficulty -just mentioned: - - It is generally very difficult to define by a general statement - a new abstraction, so that no misunderstandings of any kind can - arise. The originator of a new concept of that kind finds, as a - rule, that it is much more difficult to find out why other people - do not understand him than it was to discover the new truths. - -It was very consoling to me to find out in Berlin from no less an -authority than Helmholtz that I was not the only poor mortal who was -guessing in vain about the exact meaning of Faraday’s visions. - -Newton’s law of gravitation enables the astronomers to calculate -accurately from a simple mathematical formula the motion of celestial -bodies, without any assumption concerning the mechanism by which -gravitational force is transmitted from one body to another body at a -distance, say, from the sun to the earth. Newton’s formula says nothing -about the time of transmission. The action can be assumed to be direct -action at a distance and therefore instantaneous. Experience seemed to -indicate that this assumption is correct, because no detectable errors -are committed when one assumes that gravitational force travels with -infinite velocity. Faraday refused to accept this belief in direct -action at a distance for electric and magnetic forces. A few words, -only, will suffice to describe how Faraday attempted to eliminate the -belief in this direct action at a distance for electrical and magnetic -forces. These attempts will always be recorded in history as the first -steps in the development of the modern electromagnetic science. - -Faraday, starting from points in the electrical and in the magnetic -charges, drew numerous curves which indicated at every point in space -the direction of the electric or of the magnetic force, and in that -manner the whole space surrounding the charges he divided geometrically -into _tubular filaments which he called the lines of force_. Every one -of these filaments was constructed in accordance with a simple rule, so -that it indicated at every point in space not only the direction but -also the intensity of the force. A specific example, often employed -by me at Arran, will illustrate this. A conducting sphere, say of -copper or brass, is charged with positive or with negative electricity. -When that charge is in equilibrium it is, as was well known, all on -the surface of the sphere and uniformly distributed. Its force of -attraction or repulsion, for electrical charges in the space outside -of the sphere, is obviously along radii drawn from the centre of -the sphere. These radii, drawn in every direction and sufficiently -numerous, envelop little cones the vertices of which are at the centre -of the sphere. Adjust the size of the cones in such a way that the -area of the section of every one of them with the sphere is the same, -and make their total number proportional to the charge on the sphere. -These little cones are then in this particular case the Faraday lines -of force, because their direction gives the direction of the electrical -force, and their number per unit area of the surface of any concentric -sphere is proportional to the electrical force at any point of the -surface of this concentric sphere. According to this picture there -are attached to each little element of the total charge a definite -number of these conical filaments or lines of force, and each element -of the charge on the sphere is nothing more than the terminal of these -filaments. When the charge on the sphere is increased or diminished -the number of these filaments is also increased or diminished -proportionately, and therefore they are more densely or less densely -packed in the space which they occupy. - -Should the charge on the sphere be set in motion, then the filaments -or lines of force attached to it would also move. Thus far I followed -Faraday, but went no farther; if I had gone just a little farther -I should have met Maxwell. But, unfortunately for me, this simple -picture which I constructed, in order to aid my understanding of -Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in Electricity” over which I -pondered at Arran, suggested nothing more than a mere geometrical -representation of the electrical force which the charged sphere exerts -at any point in space. It conveyed no additional information which a -simple mathematical formula, well-known at that time, did not convey. -Additional information, however, was added by Faraday’s imagination, -which introduced here what I and many other mortals at that time -considered a strange hypothesis. He described the hypothesis at great -length in his books, and here is a brief statement of it: - -Faraday claimed that all electrical and magnetic actions are -transmitted from point to point along his lines of force; and, impelled -by a remarkable intuition, he insisted that his lines of force are not -mere geometrical pictures but that they had a real physical existence, -and that there was something like muscular tension along these lines -of force tending to contract them, and a pressure perpendicular to -them tending to expand them; and that these tensions and pressures -give the same numerical value for the mechanical force between the -charges as that calculated from Coulomb’s law, but with the fundamental -difference, which Faraday pointed out, that his hypothesis demands a -definite finite time for the transmission of electrical and magnetic -forces; whereas according to the hypothesis of direct action at a -distance, which Coulomb’s law neither favors nor opposes, these forces -are transmitted instantaneously. The question of the velocity of -transmission of electrical and of magnetic forces through space became, -therefore, a crucial question in the decision between the old view and -Faraday’s view. - -In a letter addressed to Maxwell in 1857, and quoted by Campbell, -Faraday said: - - I hope this summer to make some experiments on the time of magnetic - action ... that may help the subject on. The time must probably be - short as the time of light; but the greatness of the result, if - affirmative, makes me not despair. Perhaps I had better have said - nothing about it, for I am often long in realizing my intentions, - and a failing memory is against me. - -This letter was written ten years before Faraday’s death, and nothing -was ever reported about the result of the experiment planned by him. We -know, however, that the result which he expected from the experiment -was obtained thirty years later by Hertz, a pupil of Helmholtz. - -I imagined at Arran that I could hear Faraday say: - - Where the lines of magnetic force are there is magnetism, and where - the lines of electric force are there is electricity. - -Faraday’s answer to the questions, “What is electricity?” and, “What -is magnetism?” was, therefore, according to my understanding at -that time, that they were manifestations of force; and where these -manifestations exist there is electricity and there is magnetism, in -the sense that there are pressures and tensions which are the result -of a certain state of the space which may be called the electrical or -the magnetic state. Faraday’s visions, as I found them nearly forty -years ago, disclosed in his “Experimental Researches in Electricity,” -went even so far as to suggest that matter itself consists of centres -of force with lines of force proceeding from these centres in every -direction to infinite distances, and where these lines are there is -the body; in other words, every material body, like every electrical -and every magnetic charge, extends to infinity by means of its lines -of force; and hence all material bodies are in contact, explicitly -denying the existence of ether. No mortal man ever suggested a bolder -conception! And yet to-day we know that a conception regarding the -structure of matter very similar to that first conceived by Faraday is -rapidly gaining universal recognition, not merely as a new metaphysical -speculation but as the logical and inexorable demand of experiment. But -when Faraday told me all these strange things as I listened attentively -on the slope of Goat Fell Mountain at Arran, I could not see anything -in them except geometrical pictures and a lot of what appeared to -me like pure metaphysics in the background of simple geometrical -structures. Although I was sure that Faraday’s metaphysics had some -definite physics back of it, I was unable to disentangle it from the -hypothetical notions which I did not understand clearly. Maxwell, I -thought, must have disentangled that physics, and I often thought of -my Scotch friend at Arran who asked me the question: “Can you see in -Faraday as far as Maxwell, the Scotchman, saw?” - -When I came to Berlin my head was full of Faraday’s lines of force -starting at electrical and magnetic charges and winding in all sorts of -shapes through space, like stream lines which start from the sources -of a river and follow it in its flow toward the ocean. The physical -facts and principles which Faraday discovered stood out sharply defined -like the bright stars in the firmament of a clear and quiescent summer -night; but the conception of the new view of attracting and repelling -electric and magnetic forces, which he represented graphically by his -lines of force, endowed with strange physical powers residing in -pressures and tensions, left in my mind impressions which made me feel -that my faith in the new doctrine was not very strong. Faith without -conviction is a house built upon sand. Helmholtz said once: - - I know too well how often I sat staring hopelessly at his - descriptions of the lines of force, their number and their tensions. - -Little I thought during my journey from Arran to Berlin in October, -1885, that two years later all the nebulous notions in my perplexed -mind would lift like the mist before the early rays of a sunny autumn -morning. I continued my studies of Faraday during my first year in -Berlin, reserving for that purpose the necessary time for extra -reading. What did the physicists of Berlin think, I wondered, of -Faraday’s tubes or lines of force? - -I went to Berlin to study experimental physics with Hermann von -Helmholtz, the famous professor of physics at the University of Berlin, -the formulator of the principle of conservation of energy, and the -first interpreter of the meaning of color both in vision and in music -and speech. He was then the director of the Physical Institute of the -university. His title, conferred upon him by the old Emperor, was -Excellenz, and the whole teaching staff of the institute stood in awe -when the name of Excellenz was mentioned. The whole scientific world -of Germany, nay, the whole intellectual world of Germany, stood in -awe when the name of Excellenz von Helmholtz was pronounced. Next to -Bismarck and the old Emperor he was at that time the most illustrious -man in the German Empire. - -I had letters of introduction to him from President Barnard of -Columbia College, and also from Professor John Tyndall of the Royal -Institution. Professor Arthur Koenig, the right-hand man of Helmholtz -and the senior instructor in the Physical Institute, took me to the -office of Excellenz von Helmholtz and introduced me as Herr Pupin, a -student from America, and the proposed John Tyndall fellow of physics -of Columbia College. I was awarded the fellowship three months later. -Koenig bowed before his master as if he wished to touch the ground with -his forehead. I bowed American fashion, that is, with a bow of the head -which did not extend below my shoulders, the same kind of bow which was -practised at the University of Cambridge at that time, and I called -it the Anglo-Saxon bow; it was entirely different from Koenig’s bow. -Helmholtz seemed to notice the difference and he smiled a benevolent -smile; the contrast evidently amused him. He had much Anglo-Saxon blood -in his veins; his mother was a lineal descendant of William Penn. It -was understood in Berlin that he was the most “hoffähig” (presentable -at court) scientist in the German Empire. - -[Illustration: HERMAN VON HELMHOLTZ - - From a painting by L. Knaus] - -He received me kindly and showed deep interest in my proposed plan -of study. His appearance was most striking; he was then sixty-four -years of age, but looked older. The deep furrows in his face and the -projecting veins on the sides and across his towering brow gave him the -appearance of a deep introspective thinker, whereas his protruding, -scrutinizing eyes marked him a man anxious to penetrate the secrets -of nature’s hidden mysteries. The size of his head was enormous, and -the muscular neck and huge thorax seemed to form a suitable foundation -for such an intellectual dome. His hands and feet were small and -beautifully shaped, and his mouth gave evidence of a sweet and gentle -disposition. He spoke in the sweetest of accents, and little, but his -questions were direct and to the point. When I told him that I never -had an opportunity to work in a physical laboratory and had paid -exclusive attention to mathematical physics, he smiled and suggested -that I should make up this deficiency as soon as possible. “A few -experiments successfully carried out usually lead to results more -important than all mathematical theories,” he assured me. He then -requested Professor Koenig to map out for me a suitable course in the -laboratory and to look after me. Koenig did it, and I shall always -be grateful to the sadly deformed and extremely kind little man with -bushy red hair and distressingly defective eyesight, which he tried -to correct with the aid of enormous spectacles employing lenses of -extraordinary thickness. Helmholtz was always mellow-hearted to little -Koenig, partly because, I think, Koenig reminded him of his own son -Robert, who was deformed in hand and foot and back, but had the -magnificently shaped head of his distinguished father. - -During my first year’s study in Berlin I attended Helmholtz’s lectures -on experimental physics. They were most inspiring, not so much on -account of the many beautiful experiments which were shown, as on -account of the wonderfully suggestive remarks which Helmholtz would -drop every now and then under the inspiration of the moment. Helmholtz -threw the search-light of his giant intellect upon the meaning of -the experiments, and they blazed up like the brilliant colors of a -flower garden when a beam of sunlight breaks through the clouds, and -tears up the dark shadows which cover the landscape on a cloudy summer -day. These lectures were attended not only by students in physics, -mathematics, and chemistry, but also by medical students and army -officers. The official world, and particularly the army and navy, paid -close attention to what Excellenz von Helmholtz had to say; and I had -much reason to believe that they consulted his scientific opinions -at every step. I have often been called upon to correct the opinion -that Helmholtz was a pure scientist par excellence. There is no doubt -that his great work dealt principally with fundamental problems in -scientific theory and in philosophy; but there is also no doubt that, -like many other German scientists, he was much interested in the -application of science to the solution of problems which would advance -the industries of Germany. His earliest career is associated with his -invention of the ophthalmoscope. The optical glass industry of Germany -was being developed by some of his former students, who led the world -in geometrical optics, a part of physics to which Helmholtz devoted -much attention in his younger days. - -One day I was on my way to the institute; in front of me walked a tall -German army officer, smoking a big cigar. When we reached the entrance -of the institute the officer stopped and read a sign which said: -“Smoking is strictly forbidden in the institute building.” He threw -his cigar away and walked in. I recognized Crown Prince Frederick in -the officer. Two years later he became Emperor of Germany and ruled -for ninety days. I watched his footsteps and saw that he entered -Helmholtz’s office and stayed there over an hour. He undoubtedly -consulted the great scientist on some scientific problem which was then -interesting the German army and navy. - -Helmholtz’s personality was overpowering and seemed to compel one’s -interest in problems in which he was interested, and at that time -his principal interest was outside of the electromagnetic theory. -Nevertheless, I kept up my interest in Faraday, which interest I -brought with me from Arran; but I found no opportunity to ascertain -Helmholtz’s opinion concerning Faraday. Finally the opportunity came -toward the end of my first year at the University of Berlin. - -Gustav Robert Kirchhoff, the famous discoverer, formulator, and -interpreter of the science of spectrum analysis, and the founder of -the theory of radiation, was at that time professor of mathematical -physics at the university. He was considered the leading mathematical -physicist of Germany. His contributions to the electrical theory -occupied a very high place. The most important of these was -undoubtedly his theory of transmission of telegraphic signals over -a thin wire conductor stretched on insulated poles, high above the -ground. It was a magnificent mathematical analysis of the problem, -and it showed for the first time that theoretically the velocity of -propagation of these signals along the wire is equal to the velocity -of light. The university catalogue announced that he was to deliver a -course of lectures on theoretical electricity during the first term -of my residence at the university. I attended the course and waited -and waited, but waited in vain to hear Kirchhoff’s interpretation of -Faraday and Maxwell. At the close of the semester the course ended -and the electromagnetic theory of Faraday and Maxwell was referred to -on two pages only, out of two hundred; and the part so honored was -not, even according to my opinion at that time, the essential part -of the theory. In this respect the lectures were disappointing, but -nevertheless I was most amply rewarded for my pains. I never heard -a more elegant mathematical analysis of the old-school electrical -problems than that which Kirchhoff developed before his admiring -classes. That was the last course of lectures which he delivered; he -died in the following year, and was succeeded by Helmholtz as temporary -lecturer on mathematical physics. - -Helmholtz was rather reserved and could not easily be approached by -his students, unless they had some physical problem or a question -which was unquestionably worthy of his attention. I made up my mind -to ask him, when suitable opportunity presented itself, why Kirchhoff -in his lectures paid so little attention to Faraday and Maxwell. It -was a very significant sign of those days and I did not understand -its meaning. Professor Koenig threw up his hands in holy horror when -I informed him of my intention, and prophesied that all kinds of dire -consequences would result from my daring proposition; pointing out -that such a question would betray a lack of respect on my part both -for Kirchhoff and for Helmholtz. Koenig himself could not answer my -question except to say that he did not see why the German school of -physics should worry much about the English school, particularly when -there was a radical difference between the two in the realm of the -theory of electromagnetic phenomena. I admitted that if Kirchhoff was -the spokesman of the German school then there was a radical difference, -intimating however, in the mildest possible way that, in my humble -opinion, the difference counted in favor of the English school. I -really did not know enough to express that opinion, but I did it -under provocation. Koenig flushed up and there would have been quite -a lively verbal contest if Helmholtz had not entered my room at that -very moment, like a _deus ex machina_. He was making his customary -round of visits to the rooms of his research students, in order to -find out how their work was moving along. Both Koenig and I looked -somewhat perplexed, betraying the fact that we had been engaged in a -heated argument, and Helmholtz noticed it. We confessed that we had had -a lively discussion; when he learned the subject of our discussion he -smiled and referred us both to an address which he had delivered before -the Chemical Society of London, five years before. It is entitled, -“Recent Developments in Faraday’s Ideas Concerning Electricity.” -The same day saw me with two volumes of Helmholtz’s addresses in my -hands analyzing his Faraday address. I felt as I went on with this -study as if the heavy mist were lifting which had prevented me from -seeing a clear view of Faraday’s and Maxwell’s ideas. Tyndall’s fame -for clearing up obscure points in physical science was deservedly -great, but when I compared Helmholtz’s interpretation of Faraday and -Maxwell with that which Tyndall gave me in his book entitled “Faraday -as Discoverer,” I marvelled at Helmholtz’s superiority. It must also -be remembered that Tyndall was for many years in almost daily contact -with Faraday; and, as I pointed out before, he must also have had close -personal relations with Maxwell during the period of 1860-1865. To me -it seemed a miracle that Helmholtz, a German, saw so much more clearly -what was in the minds of two great English philosophers, although -he never had met them personally, than did another great English -physicist, Tyndall, who knew Faraday and Maxwell personally, and one of -them at least intimately. In the article in _Nature_, to which Tyndall -first referred me and which Maxwell had written, will be found the -following closing paragraph: - - Helmholtz is now in Berlin, directing the labors of able men of - science in his splendid laboratory. Let us hope that from his - present position he will again take a comprehensive view of the - waves and ripples of our intellectual progress, and give us from - time to time his idea of the meaning of it all. - -Helmholtz’s address on Faraday was one of those comprehensive views -of which Maxwell spoke in 1874. Now what did Helmholtz see in Faraday -and Maxwell which other physicists, like Tyndall, and even so famous a -mathematical physicist as Kirchhoff, failed to see? It was, I thought -after a careful study of Helmholtz’s address, the simplest thing in the -world, particularly for one who, like myself, had been wrestling with -Faraday’s lines of force, and with the hypothetical powers with which -Faraday had endowed them. So simple, indeed, that I venture to describe -it here. But in order to make the description as brief and as simple as -possible I must go back again to the charged spherical conductor which -always rendered good service in those days when I was trying to solve -the riddle of Faraday’s new physical concepts. - -By means of an electrical force generated by an electrical machine we -can increase or diminish the charge on the surface of the conducting -sphere. Now, the charge on the sphere increases or diminishes because -the electrical force generated by the machine drives through a suitable -conducting wire additional electrical charge to the sphere, or takes -it away from it. This motion of the electrical charge through the -conducting wire to or from the sphere is the electrical current. Here -comes now the historic question: Does the electrical current stop at -the surface of the charged sphere? The old electrical theories said -“Yes,” but Maxwell, interpreting the ideas of Faraday, said, “No.” -Helmholtz was the first to tell me that clearly and distinctly, and I -understood him. - -Since, according to Faraday, each particle of the charge on the sphere -carries attached to it a definite number of filaments or lines of -force, it is obvious that the rate at which the charge on the sphere -increases is, as I described above, the same as the rate at which the -number of these lines of force are crowded into the space surrounding -the sphere. Motion of the charge to the surface of the sphere is -accompanied by a motion of the Faraday lines of force through every -surface which surrounds the charged sphere. Since, according to -Faraday, electricity is everywhere where the lines of force are, it -follows that the motion of the lines through any surface means motion -of electricity (in the sense in which I use this word) through that -surface. Maxwell said, according to my understanding of Helmholtz, -that motion of electricity, as represented by the motion of Faraday’s -lines of force, is an electrical current just as much as the motion of -electrical charges is. Electrical charges are terminals, only, of the -lines of force; and why should the motion of the terminals be endowed -with a power which is denied to the remaining parts of the lines of -force? The principal power is, according to Oerstedt’s discovery, the -generation of magnetism; that is, magnetic lines of force. According -to Maxwell, then, the electrical current (that is, the motion of -electrical charges through conductors) does not stop at the surface -of the conductor, but continues in the non-conducting space beyond -as motion of Faraday’s lines of force, as _motion of electricity_. -The extension of the meaning of the word electrical current, just -described, was, according to Helmholtz, the cardinal difference between -the old electrical theories and the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic -theory, and Helmholtz declared in favor of the last. I applauded -Helmholtz and took off my hat to his clear vision of things which other -people, including myself, failed to see. But can any one blame ordinary -mortals, who were always accustomed to look upon the electrical current -as motion of electrical charges in conductors, when they failed to -see that the electrical current can take place even in a vacuum where -there are no electrical charges at all, and therefore no motion of -them? That was the physical concept which found its way so slowly into -minds polarized by preconceived notions even after Helmholtz’s lucid -explanation. This is substantially all there is in the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory as I gathered it directly from the Helmholtz -address. But there is another very important element which I ought to -describe here. - -A corollary of Maxwell’s extension of the meaning of electrical -current, which Helmholtz did not mention explicitly but which I soon -found in Maxwell, is this: Electrical charges move because a force acts -upon them; similarly the number of Faraday’s lines of force, passing -through any surface in space, increases or diminishes because there -is a force acting upon them. Wherever there is an action there is an -equal and opposite reaction, according to the most fundamental law of -Newton’s dynamics. Hence space, including the vacuum, must react when -Faraday’s lines of force (that is, when the electricity represented by -them) move through it. But if this reaction really exists in space, how -can it be expressed? Faraday and Maxwell devoted much thought and many -experimental investigations in search for a definite answer to this -question, and they found it. - -Faraday showed by experiment that if the charged sphere is immersed -in an insulating fluid, say an insulating mineral oil, or in a solid -insulator like rubber, or even if a piece of an insulator is brought -near it, then the reacting force for a given charge on the sphere -is smaller than when the sphere is surrounded by a vacuum; or, in -other words, liquid and solid insulators are more _permeable_ to the -electrical lines of force (that is, to electricity) than a vacuum is. -Therefore, an electrical force which is acting in order to increase -the charge on the sphere and, as a result, increase the number of -lines of force through the surrounding space, will experience the less -reaction the more permeable the surrounding medium is. The reaction -of an insulator against the action of an electrical force appears -therefore as a reaction against the passage of electricity, that is, of -electrical lines of force, through it. That picture of the process has -stayed with me ever since my Berlin days. - -The same line of reasoning which I followed above, regarding electrical -lines of force, leads to similar results with regard to the magnetic -lines of force. The reaction of the medium against an increase of the -electrical and of the magnetic lines of force through it was the second -new physical concept introduced into the electrical science by Faraday -and Maxwell. - -The Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory extended the well-known -electrical and magnetic actions and reactions from conductors to -non-conductors, including the vacuum. If this theory is correct, then -electromagnetic disturbances will be propagated from their source to -all parts of space, and not along conductors only, by definite waves -travelling at a definite velocity. - -Maxwell’s calculation showed that electromagnetic disturbances -are propagated through insulators in the same manner as light is -propagated, and that, therefore, _light is in all probability an -electromagnetic disturbance_. This is the substance of Maxwell’s -electromagnetic theory of light; it is his answer to the question: -“What is Light?” - -That, broadly stated, was the information which Helmholtz first -conveyed to me in terms which I understood clearly; and for this -service I have always been profoundly grateful to him. He showed me -that the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory was incomparably -simpler than I thought it to be, and also much more beautiful. I do not -believe that in 1881 there was another physicist in continental Europe -who could have given me that information, and perhaps not even in 1886, -when I first read that wonderful address. My friend Niven in Cambridge, -editor of the second edition of Maxwell’s great mathematical treatise, -never volunteered to tell me how Maxwell answered the question: “What -is Light?” Neither did Tyndall. I do not know whether Rayleigh or -Stokes or anybody else in Cambridge when I was there could have done it -as well as Helmholtz did. I shall describe later an historical event -which indicates that they probably could not. - -Toward the end of that semester I felt certain that I understood -Helmholtz’s interpretation of Faraday, and of Maxwell’s answer to the -question: “What is Light?” I then managed to have another discussion -with Professor Koenig. He listened most attentively to my description -of the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory as I had gathered it -from Helmholtz; and it was, as far as I can recall it now, very -similar to the description given above. This was my first lecture at -the University of Berlin, delivered to a very intelligent audience of -one person, dear little Doctor Koenig. It would have been a signal -success if I had not closed it with a tactless remark, to the effect -that Helmholtz, in his Faraday address, rejected every one of the -four German electrical theories, and declared himself in favor of -Faraday and Maxwell. Helmholtz intimated, and unfortunately I did not -hesitate to say so to Doctor Koenig, that physicists of continental -Europe had not accepted the English theory because it was above their -heads. Finally I said that all this explained most satisfactorily why -Kirchhoff paid so little attention to Faraday and Maxwell. Koenig -looked at his watch, and, as if suddenly remembering an important -engagement, he turned on his heels and left without his customary bow -and greeting. His national pride was evidently wounded. I regretted -it deeply. I did my best to make up with him and succeeded finally, -by admitting unreservedly that, after all, the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory rested upon several bold assumptions which had -not yet been verified by experiment. The German electrical theories -also rested upon unverified assumptions, but I said nothing about that -for fear of endangering the re-established _entente cordiale_ between -Doctor Koenig and myself. - -Excellenz von Helmholtz had left Berlin for his summer vacation; among -my German fellow students at the Physical Institute there was not much -interest in Faraday and Maxwell. I do not know how difficult it is to -conceal a deep secret, because I never had one to conceal; but I do -know how hard it is to keep imprisoned in one’s heart the joy which one -feels when the light of new knowledge rises above one’s mental horizon. -I had planned to visit my mother during that summer; I had not seen -her for nearly two years. Perhaps, I thought, I might find somebody -in my native Banat to whom I could disclose the joy which I received -from the revelation which came to me through Helmholtz. Kos, my teacher -of fifteen years before in Panchevo, was no longer among the living; -in fact, that school was no longer in existence, the Hungarian régime -having replaced it by a Hungarian school. I would have liked nothing -better than to tell him how Maxwell answered the question: “What is -Light?” - - * * * * * - -In the beginning of August of that summer I was in Idvor again, -carrying with me the two volumes of Helmholtz’s addresses. My mother -received me with a heart which she described as overflowing with -blessings which my visit and the visit of God’s grace upon Idvor -was pouring into it. The golden harvest was all in, and it was the -richest that Idvor had seen for many a year; the grapes in the old -vineyards were beginning to ripen, and the peach-trees among the rows -of vines in the vineyards were heavily loaded with the juicy fruit of -ambrosial flavor; the melons in the endless melon patches looked big -and flourishing, and suggested that at any moment they might burst with -the fulness of their exuberant prosperity. The dark-green corn-fields -seemed to groan under the heavy load of the young ears of corn, and -the pasturelands alongside of the corn-fields were alive with flocks -of sheep, carrying udders which reminded one of the abundance of milk, -cream, and cheese such as Idvor had seldom seen. All these things my -mother pointed out to me, and she assured me that by the grace of -God she was enabled to be a bountiful hostess to me, because she had -everything in great abundance which she knew I always liked. Melons, -cooled at the bottom of a deep well; grapes and peaches picked before -sunrise and covered up with vine-leaves to keep them cool and fresh; -young corn picked late in the afternoon and roasted in the evening in -front of a wood fire; cream from sheep’s milk supplied by the blessed -sheep the day before. All these were sweet and delicious things; but -have you ever tasted them when their sweetness is flavored by the love -of an indulgent mother? If you have not, then you do not know what -sweetness is. I warned my mother that her hospitality might transform -me, as three years before, into a pampered pet who would be too slow -to return to Berlin. Reminding me of the story which she had told me -two years before, describing my climb up the steep and slippery roof -of Bukovala’s mill in search of a star, she said: “You have done much -climbing during the last two years, and I know that in your climbing -you have found several real stars from heaven. One of them is now in -Berlin and no sweets in Idvor will keep you away from it.” She guessed -right, undoubtedly because she observed with what joy I kept up, during -that vacation, my reading of Helmholtz’s addresses. - -Many a night during that summer I spent in my mother’s vineyard -sleeping on sheepskins under the open sky and looking at the stars at -which I looked fifteen years before, when I helped the herdsman to -guard the village oxen during the starlit summer nights. I remembered -the puzzles which I tried to solve at that time concerning the nature -of sound and of light, succeeding in the case of sound and failing -in the case of light. I rejoiced at the feeling that I had finally -succeeded in finding from Faraday and Maxwell through Helmholtz that -sound and light resembled each other, one being a vibration of matter, -and the other a vibration of electricity. The fact that I did not -know what electricity is did not disturb me, because I did not know -what matter is. Nobody knows the exact nature of these even to-day, -except, as Faraday suggested, that they are manifestations of force. -David’s nineteenth Psalm, which I recited so often fifteen years before -during my training in herdsmanship, conveyed a different meaning, and -so did Lyermontoff’s line which says that “star speaketh to star.” -They certainly spoke to me during those glorious August nights, when, -covered with sheepskins, I lay in my mother’s vineyard and amid the -deep silence of slumbering earth I listened to their heavenly tales. -The more I listened the more I became reconciled to the idea that -the language of the stars reaches me in the same way that human -language does, when it speeds on over the telephone wire, conveyed by -vibratory electric and magnetic forces; except that in the transmission -of the telephonic message the vibratory forces glide along the -conducting wire, whereas the stars pour out their waves of vibratory -electromagnetic forces in ever-expanding spheres so that they may -carry the heavenly message to every other star and to everything that -lives, and to everything that has a being. I could not help telling my -mother of my new knowledge which persuaded me that light is a vibration -of electricity, very much like the vibration of the melodious string -described in the Serbian figure of speech, familiar to her, which says: - - My heart quivers like the melodious string under the guslar’s bow. - -She always was the most attentive audience that I ever had, and the -most responsive. Her wonderful memory, even at that time when she -was seventy years of age, assigned to every essential event of her -experience a suitable place, so that it became a vital chord in -the symphony of her life. She never heard anything worth hearing -without responding with one of these harmonious chords, and this was -particularly true when I was speaking to her. On this particular -occasion, referring to my new knowledge which I brought to Idvor from -Berlin, she reminded me of my new knowledge about lightning which I had -acquired from my teacher Kos, in Panchevo, some fifteen years before, -and afterward tried to explain it to my father and his peasant friends, -who accused me of heresy; and she recalled her defense of me. She -suggested, jokingly, that if my father and his old friends had still -been living they would perhaps accuse me again of heresy on account of -some old legends which clashed with my new knowledge; and she assured -me that she would defend me again. “God sends sunlight,” she said, -“to melt the ice and snow of the early spring, and to resurrect from -death everything that lay lifeless in the cold grave of the bosom of -mother earth, chilled by the icy breath of winter. The same sunlight,” -she continued, “awakens the fields, the meadows, and the pasturelands, -and bids them raise the daily bread of man and beast; it also ripens -the honey-hearted fruit in orchards and vineyards. If that is all done -by the same heavenly force which hurls the lightning across the sombre -summer clouds pregnant with showers, and also carries, as you say, the -humble human voice over the wires between distant peoples, then I see -in it a new proof of God’s infinite wisdom which uses one means only -to do great things as well as small. Ko che ko Bog! Who can fathom the -power of God!” I reminded her of her saying which she often addressed -to me when I was a boy and which I quoted before, namely: “Knowledge is -the golden ladder over which we climb to heaven,” and asked her whether -she included in this the knowledge which I was describing to her. - -“I include every knowledge,” she said, “which brings me nearer to -God; and this new knowledge certainly does. Just think of it, my son: -God has been sending his messages from star to star and, according -to David, from the stars to man, ever since the creation of Adam, -employing the very same method and means which man, imitating the -divine method, is beginning to use when he employs electricity to -carry his message to a distant friend. Your teachers who gave you that -knowledge are as wise as the prophets and as holy as the holiest saints -in heaven.” - -When I told her of Faraday’s vision, that all things extend to and -exist in every spot of the universe at the same time and that, -therefore, all things are in perpetual contact with each other, every -star feeling, so to speak, the heart-beat of every other star and of -every living thing, even of the tiniest little worm in the earth, she -answered: - -“Faraday’s science is that part of my religion which is described in -the words addressed to God by King David: - - “‘Whither shall I go from thy spirit? Or whither shall I flee from - thy presence? - - “‘If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in - hell, behold, thou art there.’ - -God is everywhere, and where he is, there is every part of his -creation.” Her religion taught her how to catch the spirit of science, -and I was always certain that science can teach us how to catch the -spirit of her religion. - - - - -IX - -END OF STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN - - -I confess that when I first arrived in Berlin I brought with me old -prejudices, which were annoying, to say the least. The Teutonism in -Prague, when I was a schoolboy there, had made lasting impressions -upon my young mind; they were with me when I landed at Castle Garden. -Early impressions are very persistent and cannot be obliterated by -time alone. Christian’s father, the innkeeper of West Street, and -his friends, the hardy Friesland sailors who taught me how to handle -the paint-brush, drew me closer to the German heart, and I found it -much less grasping than I thought it was. But the Frieslander of -those days had no great love for the Prussian. Bilharz, the idealist -of Cortlandt Street, gave me a more intimate knowledge of the German -temper, and helped much to dispel many of my early prejudices. But -Bilharz displayed decided dislike for the Prussians. The few German -friends whom I had during my “greenhorn” days were southern Germans, -and they did not appear to be very friendly to the idea of a united -Germany under Prussian hegemony. These early experiences encouraged -me in the belief that the Prussians were probably responsible for the -Teutonism which I disliked. This belief was strengthened by Bismarck’s -anti-Russian and anti-Serbian, but strongly pro-Austrian, policy at -the treaty of Berlin in 1878. He protested, I knew, that he would -not sacrifice the bones of a single Pomeranian grenadier for all the -Balkans; but I did not believe him. Hence the uncomfortable feeling -of being in an enemy country, when I first came to and settled down in -Berlin. - -The Teutonism of Prague, more than anything else, was responsible for -it. Racial antipathy is one of the saddest of psychic derangements; -and, although it is a repulsive product of modern nationalism, the -world does less than nothing to get rid of its insidious poisons. -European civilization is being destroyed by it. I suffered from its -evil effects during the early days of my life in Berlin. Helmholtz, -Koenig, and all the officers in the Physical Institute showed me every -kindness and consideration, and that prevented me from turning around -and speeding back to Cambridge as soon as the first breath of the -atmosphere of Berlin gave me an acute attack of anti-Teutonism. My -German landlady and her friends, as well as the German students I met -in the lecture-rooms, struck no responsive chord in my heart, because -it was out of tune with my surroundings. I remained a stranger in a -cold, strange land. A young Scotch friend of mine, a graduate of the -University of Glasgow, appeared on the scene, some time after I had -become settled in Berlin. He kept his promise, given me at Arran, to -join me in Berlin. He stayed at the university for one semester only -and heard lectures on Roman law. He looked like a northern Apollo: tall -and erect, the pink of youth radiating from his handsome face, and the -locks of purest gold adorning a lofty brow, which made you believe -that you were looking at a young Sir Walter Scott. His deep-blue eyes -knew of no suspicions, and his heart had never been touched by the -poison of racial antipathy. He loved the world and the world loved -him. His knowledge of German was very poor, and yet everybody loved to -talk to him. Even the stern Schutzman (policeman), stirred up to white -heat by too noisy a rendering of American and Scotch college songs in -the slumbering streets of Berlin, was as gentle as a dove when the -blue-eyed young Scot stood in front of him and greeted him with a -honey-hearted smile. My landlady, quite an aged person, as well as her -young boarders, begged me to bring him to dinner as often as possible. -“Yes, do bring him,” said a sarcastic young fräulein; “you look quite -human and almost handsome when he is around.” There was much truth in -what she said; the poison of racial antipathy did not operate in me -when he was present. He made friends on every side among the German -students, and when I saw how he warmed up to them and how they warmed -up to him I began to thaw out myself. Helmholtz and dear little Koenig -were the first persons in Berlin who helped me to forget that Europe -was made up of different races who lived in eternal suspicion of each -other. After that, following the example of my Scotch friend, I began -to rid myself of the poisonous infection which I received from the -Teutonism in Prague; but it was a slow process. Helmholtz’s address on -Faraday was so warm and so generous to Faraday as well as to Maxwell, -and so wonderfully just, that I began to question the justice of my -anti-Teutonic prejudices. - -The two volumes of Helmholtz’s addresses and public speeches which I -enjoyed so much during that summer in my mother’s vineyard made me -almost repentant. My mother knew of my anti-Teutonic sentiments and -never approved of them. One day we drove to visit my younger sister, -who lived about fifteen miles from Idvor. On the way we passed through -a large village, Echka, having a mixed population of German, Rumanian, -and Serb peasants. There was a striking contrast in the appearance of -the houses, of the people, and of their methods of moving about in the -pursuit of their daily work. The German peasants were far ahead of the -Rumanians as well as of the Serbs. My mother called my attention to it, -but I made no comment. Presently we passed the stately Roman Catholic -church of the village, which looked like a cathedral. It was built, -I was told, by the German peasants of Echka, and my mother told me -that it was crowded on Sundays and holidays, and that the priest was a -very learned and a very good man. When we passed the Orthodox church, -which was quite small and insignificant-looking, my mother said: “Would -you not feel ashamed if St. Sava came down to earth again and after -seeing that splendid German church looked at this hut which is called -the Orthodox church? But small as it is you will never find it filled -except at some weddings or at memorial services for some departed rich -person, when people expect much feasting.” - -Again I made no comment, because I was opposed to “alien intruders” -myself, as some people called the German colonists; and my mother -looked disappointed. Just then we saw two peasant girls carrying -river water in shining copper vessels. These vessels were suspended -at the ends of a long flexible staff which was nicely balanced on the -shoulder of each young carrier, so that one vessel was in front and -one behind her. The first girl was a blonde with slippers on her feet; -a simple dark-blue dress covered her youthful figure and displayed -the successive phases of her rhythmical movement. It was synchronized -with the swinging motion of the bright copper vessels, which moved up -and down like a double pendulum, bending the flexible shaft around -its point of support on the shoulder of the fair carrier. The copper -vessels, although filled to the brim, did not spill a single drop of -water; the perfect adjustment of the swinging motion of the carrier -to that of the swinging shaft produced this admirable result. The -girl, the staff, and the shining vessels stood in a beautiful harmonic -relation to each other. They reminded one of the harmonics in a sweet -musical chord. It was a beautiful sight, and I said so. My mother, -noticing my sudden burst of enthusiasm, sounded a warning. “She is a -German girl,” she said, “and she certainly is lovely. Her heart and -soul are in her job. But if you find one like her in Berlin, remember -your promise; you must marry an American girl if you wish to remain an -American, which I know you do.” - -She evidently had become a little alarmed at the thought that her -praises of the Germans might cause my sentiments to swing too far the -other way. The second water-carrier was a barefooted and gaudy-looking -lassie, who stepped along any old way and marked her track with -frequent splashes of water from the copper vessels. “She is a wild -Rumanian,” exclaimed my mother; “she can dance like a Vila, but she -hates her job of carrying water. You will never find one like her in -Berlin. The Germans have no use for people who do not love their daily -duties.” My mother was a great admirer of the thrifty and industrious -German colonists in Banat, whom she always recommended as models to -the peasants of Idvor. When she heard my praises of Helmholtz and my -confession of racial antipathy to the Germans she put up many powerful -arguments which were most convincing. They had a wonderful effect. - -When I returned to Berlin from Idvor things looked more inviting, and -my landlady remarked that I looked much more cheerful than I did a year -before, when I arrived from Scotland. In another year, she suggested -jokingly, I might look as cheerful as a real Prussian, particularly -if I should succumb to the charms of a Prussian beauty. Remembering -the promise that I had given to my mother about marrying an American -girl, I said to my landlady: “Never! I have already pledged my word to -one who is nearer to my heart than any Prussian beauty could ever be.” -“Ach, Herr Pupin, you have changed most wonderfully,” exclaimed the -landlady, and then she added in a whisper: “Just think of it! To get a -confession on the first day of your return which I could not get before -in nearly a year! I understand now why you were always so distant to -the young ladies in my pensionat.” But the change of feeling, speeded -up by my mother, and noticed by my landlady, was speeded up almost as -effectively by another Serb. - -A Bosnian Serb with the name of Nikola had a fine cigarette shop on -Unter den Linden, the principal avenue of Berlin. It was within a -stone’s throw from the Imperial palace, and the highest aristocracy -of Berlin patronized it. He was a rough diamond, and would stand -no nonsense from any prince or count. If they found fault with his -famous Turkish cigarettes he did not hesitate to tell them to buy -them somewhere else. But he prospered, he said, because these German -aristocrats never resented straight talk from man to man. He laughed at -me, when I mentioned to him my suspicions and antipathies; and begged -me to pass with him, from time to time, an hour or so in his store, -and watch his German customers. I did, and profited much. The Prussian -aristocrats had no racial antipathy against a Serb, if their apparently -genuine affection for Nikola had any meaning. Nikola never left them in -any doubt as to his pride of being a Serb. - -Half-way between Nikola’s store and the Imperial palace was an old -chop-house, called Habel, dating from the time of Frederick the Great. -Frederick’s generals always stopped there for a glass of wine, when -they returned from an audience with the king. The custom persisted and -was still in existence when I was a student in Berlin. Nikola often -invited me to early luncheon at this chop-house, and there we saw the -great generals and marshals of the German Empire, sitting around a long -and separate table and taking a glass of wine after returning from the -Imperial palace, from their daily audience with old Emperor William. -It was a wonderful sight; those tall, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, -brainy, and serious-minded Teuton warriors inspired tremendous -respect. Nikola assured me that he knew many of them personally, they -being his customers, and that as human beings they were as gentle -as doves. “Many a time I called them down when they joked about my -cigarettes, and they submitted without a murmur. Do you call that -arrogance?” asked Nikola, throwing out his chest and trying to look as -stern and as imposing as any of the generals present. - -Once he took me to an avenue where Moltke used to walk and showed -me the great field-marshal, who was then eighty-six years old, but -still as straight as an arrow. “Did you ever see a more modest and -thoughtful or a more spiritual-looking man anywhere?” asked Nikola, -and I confessed that I had not. “Then stop your talk about Prussian -pride!” exclaimed Nikola. On another occasion we walked to the park and -he showed me Bismarck, riding on horseback, a friend and an adjutant -accompanying him. Nikola saluted him and so did I, and Bismarck saluted -back graciously. “Does he look like a brute, or like a fool who would -try to convert by force all the Slavs into Germans?” asked Nikola, -poking fun at my anti-Teutonic suspicions. “No,” said I, “I do not -think he does; in fact, I think he looks very much like Helmholtz, -except that there is much less spirituality in his face than in that -of the great scientist.” “Helmholtz!” exclaimed Nikola, “even he would -lose his saintly expression, if he had to carry the load of the whole -empire upon his shoulders, the socialists on the top of his load -pushing it one way, and the clericals at the bottom pushing it the -other way.” - -Nikola was born in Bosnia when the Turks ruled supreme, and hence he -was not much of a scholar; but he was a careful listener, and always -thought through his own head; his judgment was remarkable, I thought. -He knew who’s who and what’s what in Berlin better than many a foreign -diplomat there. He used to joke about it, saying that his knowledge -was expected of him, because he was the next-door neighbor of the -great Kaiser. The Serbs of Banat did not seriously dislike the German -colonists there, nor did the colonists dislike them, and they delighted -in speaking the Serb language. They called each other “komshiya,” -neighbor. The Serbs, in general, use this word when they refer to a -German in a friendly way. Nikola always referred to the great Kaiser as -his “komshiya”; many of his customers knew that and enjoyed it hugely. -They returned the compliment and often addressed Nikola with the -Serbian word “komshiya.” “Come and see my komshiya,” said he one day -to me, and there I stood for the first time in front of the Imperial -palace and waited for the old emperor to show himself at the window. -He did that almost every day about noontime when the guards marched by -on their daily parade. Presenting arms and looking straight at the old -emperor, they marched by like a single body animated by a single heart -and a single soul, and they spanked the ground with their vigorous -goose-step, the rhythmic strokes of which could be heard quite a -distance away through the ringing cheers of the enthusiastic crowd. “Do -you know what that means?” asked Nikola. I answered “No,” and he said: -“It means that every German looks up to his fatherland for orders, -and the perfect rhythm of that goose-step means that every German -will obey these orders and finish on time any job for the good of the -fatherland that may be assigned to him. It is the symbol of German -unity.” That was Nikola’s unique interpretation; I never heard anybody -else interpret it that way. But Nikola had a lively imagination and he -evidently wished me to get a favorable interpretation of everything the -Germans did. - -Between my young Scotch friend, my mother, Nikola, and my professors -in the Physical Institute, I soon forgot the unpleasant memories of -the Teutonism in Prague, and Berlin no longer looked to me like a -Thraenenthal, a valley of tears, as my old friend Bilharz in Cortlandt -Street would have called it. I soon found myself enjoying warm personal -friendships of German fellow students and of the professors, and it was -a very fortunate thing; it was providential. Nothing but the love of -God and the friendship of man can give that spiritual power which one -needs in moments of great sorrow. One day in the beginning of winter, -of that year, a letter arrived from my sister, telling me that my -saintly mother was no longer among the living. I vowed on that day that -her blessed memory should be perpetuated as far as an humble mortal -like myself could do it. Twenty-seven years later the Serbian Academy -of Sciences announced that the income of a foundation in memory of -Olympiada Pupin would be expended annually to assist a goodly number of -poor schoolboys in Old Serbia and Macedonia. - -The vanishing of a life which is an essential part of one’s own life -produces a mysterious shift of the direction of one’s mental and -spiritual vision. Instead of searching for light which will illuminate -the meaning of things in the external physical world, as the vision of -young people usually does, it begins to search for light which will -illuminate the meaning of what is going on in the internal world, the -spiritual world of our soul. The question “What is Light?” was no -longer the most important question of my thoughts after my mother’s -death. The question “What is Life?” dominated for a long time my -thoughts and feelings. I became introspective, and, being a somewhat -temperamental person, like most Slavs, I might have lost my way forever -in the labyrinth of all sorts of metaphysical structures of my own -creation. Providence came to my rescue. Two American students with -aspirations in science similar to mine joined the Physical Institute. -One of them, a Harvard graduate, the late Arthur Gordon Webster, was -the very distinguished professor of physics at Clark University; the -other, a Johns Hopkins man, Joseph Sweetman Ames, is now the director -of the physical laboratory at Johns Hopkins and a worthy successor to -the famous Henry Augustus Rowland. Their truly American enthusiasm and -directness prevented me from relapsing into the drowsy indefiniteness, -sometimes called idealism, of a temperamental and sentimental Slav. -They told me many wonderful tales of the higher endeavor in science at -Harvard and at Johns Hopkins. The new Jefferson Physical Laboratory -at Harvard was a wonder, according to Webster; and Ames never grew -weary of extolling the beauties of Rowland’s wonderful researches in -solar spectra, and I never grew weary of listening to them. At times, -however, I wondered why these two men had ever come to Helmholtz when -they were so well off at home. Ames wondered, too, and he returned to -Rowland at the end of the year; but Webster stayed, although in my -presence he never admitted unreservedly that the Physical Institute -in Berlin was very much better than anything they had at Harvard. -Webster’s and Ames’s testimony convinced me that the great movement -in the United States for higher endeavor in science was making rapid -progress; and I longed to finish up my studies in Berlin and return to -the United States. After my mother’s death Europe attracted me much -less. - - * * * * * - -A new physical science was attracting much attention in Germany at -that time, the science of physical chemistry. Helmholtz was very much -interested in it. I had read his latest papers on the subject and they -reminded me of what I had seen in Maxwell’s book on heat about Willard -Gibbs of Yale. I soon discovered that the alleged German fathers of -the new science were anticipated by Gibbs by at least ten years. -Remembering the charge of De Tocqueville that the American democracy -had never done anything for abstract science, I made a careful note of -my find. It was a clean-cut little discovery, I thought, and Helmholtz -admitted it. He suggested even that I might find material in it for a -research leading to a doctor dissertation. I embraced the suggestion -and started an experimental research, at the same time studying the -theories of Gibbs, Helmholtz, and other authorities, mostly German, -on physical chemistry. The more one penetrates the depths of any -problem the more he yields to the belief that this problem is the -most important problem in the world. This happened to me; and the -Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory was shelved, temporarily, on -account of my interest in physical chemistry, and particularly on -account of the prospect of finding there a doctor dissertation, which I -finally did. - -At the end of the first semester and at Webster’s suggestion he and -I, in the spring of 1887, went to Paris for a short visit. We wished -to see what physical science was doing at the Sorbonne and at the -Collège de France, and to compare the academic world of Paris with that -of Berlin. We stayed there three weeks and learned quite a number of -novel and interesting things. The architectural beauties of Paris as -well as its art galleries and museums made a profound impression upon -me. As a record of a magnificent old civilization Paris, I thought, -was incomparably ahead of Berlin. The spirit of Laplace, La Grange, -Fourier, Ampère, Arago, Fresnel, Foucault, and Fizeau was very much -alive in the ancient halls of the Sorbonne and of the Collège de -France. The background of a former glorious period of physical science -in France was much more impressive in Paris than the corresponding -background in Berlin. But for every one of the great savants in -physical and mathematical sciences, who were active in Paris at the -time of my visit, like Poincaré, Hermite, Darboux, Appel, Lippmann, -one could name several in Berlin. And there was nobody in Paris who, -in my opinion, could measure up to Helmholtz, Kirchhoff, and DuBois -Reymond. There was no statesman there of Bismarck’s caliber, and no -general like Moltke. I saw no warriors who looked like the magnificent -fellows whom Nikola first exhibited to me at the long table in Habel’s. -General Boulanger was very much in the limelight. I saw him at a -great official reception, and I should have felt very sorry if the -destiny of France had been intrusted to him. The physical and chemical -laboratories were rather poorly equipped and compared unfavorably -with the corresponding laboratories in Berlin. The draped statues in -the Place de la Concorde, testifying to France’s grief for the loss -of Alsace-Lorraine, completed the picture of Paris in my mind, which -was anything but cheerful. France, I thought, had not yet recovered -completely from her wounds of 1870-1871, and I felt sorry. Two years -earlier I had passed through Paris on my way from Pornic to Idvor and -had carried away a much more cheerful picture. But at that time my -observations, covering barely two days, did not see much; and, besides, -I did not know Berlin at that time and could make no comparisons. -If Paris reflected the spirit of France and Berlin that of Germany, -then France, I thought, was a falcon with broken wings and Germany -was a young eagle that had just discovered the wonderful power of its -pinions. The wonderful intellectual and physical vigor of the new -empire impressed powerfully every foreign student at the University of -Berlin when I was a student there. This gave me much food for thought -and I searched for explanations. - -There was one explanation which always appealed to me much on account -of its simplicity. I heard it from a very learned German. This was his -story: The German iron always contained phosphorus, including also the -great deposits of iron which the Germans had found in Alsace-Lorraine. -The only good iron that Germany had prior to 1880 was that in the Iron -Chancellor. Hence, Germany could not build up a steel industry, and -without it no great industrial development is possible in any country. -A miracle happened; a young Englishman, a clerk in a London police -court, made a discovery which was destined to give Germany its great -steel industry. This was Sidney Gilchrist Thomas, who discovered the -so-called “basic Bessemer” process. It made iron containing phosphorus -easily available for the manufacture of iron and steel products. This -started the modern steel industry of Germany in the early eighties. -Many a street in the towns of the German steel districts was named in -honor of Gilchrist Thomas. “This,” said my informant, “is the power -which, as you express it, the young German eagle has discovered in its -pinions.” I suspected that the object of his story might have been to -discourage an opinion on my part that the remarkable vigor of Germany -was derived from the weakness of France. Hence I looked up the data of -his story, but I found them correct. Years ago I told this story to the -late Andrew Carnegie, and he agreed with my German informant. To-day -I am convinced that neither the great works of Krupp, nor the great -German navy, nor many other things which have happened since my Berlin -days, would have been possible without the start which was made with -the aid of Gilchrist Thomas. - -Another remarkable assertion from the same informant made a lasting -impression. According to him, united Germany would not have endured -very long, if it had not been for the rapid rise of the German steel -industry and of other German industries which followed in its wake. The -organization of Germany as an economic unit secured the organization of -Germany as a political unit. He summed it up by saying that Bismarck -and Moltke had raised the structure of the German Empire, but that -Gilchrist Thomas had built a steel ring around it which prevented it -from falling to pieces. He added then a corollary to this startling -statement, and I repeat it here in the form of a question. If the -scientific research of a young clerk in a London police court, who -studied chemistry in a London evening school, could do so much for -Germany, how much can one reasonably expect from the great research -laboratories of the German universities and technical schools? This, -according to my informant, had become a national question in Germany. -This information reminded me that the great movement in Great Britain -and in the United States for higher scientific research was also -present in Germany, but in a much more advanced form. My informant -called my attention to Werner von Siemens’s pioneer work in this German -movement. - -Ernst Werner von Siemens was at that time, next to Helmholtz, the most -admired scientist in the German Empire. He was the head of a great -electrical plant in the heart of Berlin, and was known everywhere -to possess a splendid combination of talents in abstract science -and engineering. Men of that type were quite rare in those days, -and they are very rare even to-day. I heard a great deal about him -in a course of lectures on electrical engineering which I attended -at the Polytechnic School of Berlin. I saw him several times, when -he called at the Physical Institute on his friend and relative by -marriage, Excellenz von Helmholtz. His remarkable appearance made a -strong impression upon me, and I longed to see his great plant, where -all kinds of electrical things were made, from the finest electrical -precision instruments to the largest types of dynamos and motors, many -of them his own inventions. As a sign of special favor Helmholtz gave -me a note of introduction to his distinguished friend, who received -me graciously and gave me to an official who took me around the great -electrical plant, the first that I had ever seen. The impression which -it made upon my mind was certainly wonderful, but not more wonderful -than the impression which the great personality of Siemens had made -upon me. The more I learned about him the more I became convinced that -no industrial organization ever had a presiding genius of greater -attainments than Siemens. His attitude toward abstract science and its -relation to the industries is best described by mentioning here a fact -which is of great significance in the history of physical science. He -founded in that year, 1887, the great Physical-Technical Institute, and -presented it to the German nation; Helmholtz was its first president. -The modern science of radiation rests upon a foundation first laid by -Kirchhoff and greatly strengthened by additional experimental data -obtained in this institute under the guidance of Helmholtz. Planck, the -successor of Kirchhoff at the University of Berlin, already in office -before I left Berlin, was undoubtedly inspired by these experiments -when he formulated his great law of radiation which forms to-day the -last word in the science of radiation, a great science which justly -bears the mark “made in Germany,” just as the electromagnetic theory -bears the mark “made in England.” The Physical-Technical Institute -will always stand as a memorial to the man who preached in Germany the -doctrine of the closest co-operation between abstract science and the -industries. Germany adopted it first; the United States adopted it many -years later. Helmholtz and Siemens always represented to me the highest -symbol of this co-operation. - -Bismarck and Moltke, Helmholtz and Siemens, were the great power which -the young German eagle had discovered in his pinions; and he flew as -he had never flown before, and his flight astonished me when I was -a student in Berlin. He who wants to know the real Germany of the -eighties should study the lives of Bismarck and Moltke, of Helmholtz -and Siemens. They, I firmly believed at that time, were the leaders of -the German constructive thought and action; they were the fathers of -united Germany just as Washington and Hamilton, Franklin and Jefferson, -were the fathers of this country. But would the spiritual influence -of the fathers of united Germany produce a German Lincoln? I knew the -historical background of the Declaration of Independence and also -its historical foreground too well to answer this question in the -affirmative. Extraordinary men can do extraordinary things, but the -course of a nation’s destiny will always be guided not by transient -efforts of one or even of several extraordinary men of a given period, -but by the persistent power of the nation’s traditions. - -My visit to Paris was to supply me with more knowledge of the academic -world of France, and also with some fresh food for thought relating -to my problem in physical chemistry, and it did in a measure. But -the current of thought which was started by some of the strongest -mental stimuli which I received in Paris had nothing to do with either -physical chemistry or with academic France; it ran into German channels -which I described above. These were the channels which ran through -the minds of most university men in Germany, and in these channels -every problem in art, science, and literature was viewed at that time -from the standpoint of German economic and political unity. My German -scientific friends, particularly those in eastern Prussia, where I -spent the summer vacation of 1887, would rather discuss those problems -than the problems in physical chemistry or in the electromagnetic -theory. It took me some time after my return from Paris to get back -completely to my research in physical chemistry. But no sooner had -I gone back to it than the irresistible power of the current of big -events, following each other in quick succession, took me away from it -again. I shall describe them in their historical order, but only in so -far as they are related to the main thread of my narrative. - - * * * * * - -One of the many sources of inspiration at the University of Berlin was -the Physical Society which met once a month at the Physical Institute. -The research students of the institute were admitted to these meetings, -and one can imagine what an inspiration it was to them to see and to -hear the scientists like Kirchhoff, the great mathematical physicist, -DuBois Reymond, the great physiologist, Hoffman, the great chemist, and -Helmholtz, the greatest of them all. I often imagined while attending -these meetings and listening to the learned remarks of these scientific -giants, that I was a lucky mortal who by some strange accident had -found himself suddenly among the great heroes in Walhalla. Helmholtz -usually presided, and his impressive physiognomy suggested a Wotan -presiding at a gathering of the Teuton gods in Walhalla. Whenever I -hear Wagner’s Walhalla motif I am reminded of those memorable scenes in -the Physical Institute in Berlin, the scenes of victory of the immortal -mind of man over mortal matter. - -At one of those meetings, which took place toward the end of 1887, -many scientific giants of the university were present and Helmholtz -presided. There was an atmosphere of expectancy as if something unusual -was going to happen. Helmholtz rose and looked more solemn than ever, -but I noticed a light of triumph in his eyes; he looked like a Wotan -gazing upon the completed form of heavenly Walhalla, and I felt -intuitively that he was about to disclose an unusual announcement, -and he did. Referring to Doctor Heinrich Hertz, a former pupil of his -and at that time professor of physics at the Technical High School in -Karlsruhe, Helmholtz solemnly announced that he would describe some -remarkable experimental results which Hertz had obtained by means -of very rapid electrical oscillations. He then described in his -inimitable way a preliminary report which Hertz had sent him, pointing -out, in a most lucid manner, the bearing of these experiments upon -the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory, and affirming that these -experiments furnished a complete experimental verification of that -remarkable theory. Everybody present was thrilled, particularly when -Helmholtz closed with a eulogy of his beloved pupil, Hertz, and with -a congratulation to German science upon the good fortune of adding -another “beautiful leaf to its laurel wreath.” That thrill soon reached -the physicists in every physical laboratory in the world; and for a -number of years after that memorable announcement most investigators -in physics were busy repeating the beautiful Hertzian experiments. The -radio of to-day is an offshoot of those experiments. - -This is no place to go into a detailed description of what Hertz -did. The fundamental idea underlying his beautiful research and its -relation to the Faraday-Maxwell far-reaching electromagnetic theory -can be described in very simple terms. The wonderful achievements of -radio broadcasting alone, to say nothing of other much more important -achievements, demand this description. That idea, like the tiny seed -hidden in a beautiful flower, lay hidden in Faraday’s visions and -in Maxwell’s wonderful, but, to most ordinary mortals, enigmatic -interpretation of them. Hertz, guided by his great teacher, Helmholtz, -caught the hidden seed and out of it grew a physical embodiment of -the Faraday-Maxwell theory, represented by ideally simple apparatus, -operating in an ideally simple way. The apparatus and its operation -are now the heart and soul of a new art, the radio art, a beautiful -daughter of the beautiful mother, the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic -science. The following description of Hertz’s apparatus and of its -operation was the theme of popular lectures and of many conversations -which I had with my friends who were not physicists by profession. It -represents quite closely the simple picture which I carried away in -my mind from that memorable meeting of the Berlin Physical Society -thirty-six years ago. - -[Illustration: THE HERTZIAN OSCILLATOR] - - Two equal metal spheres _A_ and _B_, each twelve inches in - diameter, and each carrying copper rods _C_ and _D_, are placed as - indicated in the diagram given here. At _E_ is an opening of about - three-tenths of an inch in length, the so-called _air-gap_. By - means of two wires _e_ and _f_, connected to an electrical machine, - the spheres are charged, one receiving a positive electrical charge - denoted by the (+) sign, and the other a negative one, denoted by - the (-) sign. The air-gap _E_ insulates one sphere from the other, - and its function is to make it possible for the electrical machine - to increase the two charges until a very high electrical tension - is reached. When the electrical tension between the two charges, - acting through the air-gap _E_, is sufficiently high, then the - insulating power of the air-gap is overstrained and suddenly it - breaks down and becomes conductive and permits the two charges to - rush toward each other. The conductivity of the air-gap suspends - the action of the charging machine. A large current passes then - between the two spheres along the rods and through the air-gap - _E_ which is heated by the current to white heat. It becomes then - a very good conductor and permits the charges to pass through it - easily. The collapse of the air-gap is reported by the sharp crack - of the electrical spark which is due to the very sudden heating and - expansion of the air in the air-gap produced by the passage of the - electrical current. It is a miniature lightning. The two charges - reunite, the spheres are discharged, and after that the air-gap _E_ - recovers quickly from its breakdown and becomes an insulator again. - The process is then repeated by the action of the machine and a - rapid succession of sparks can be maintained, each one of them - announcing by the crack of the spark the reunion of the charges - that had been pulled apart and forced to the surfaces _A_ and _B_ - by the action of the electrical generator. - -All this was known long before Hertz. The first experiment of this -kind I saw in Panchevo in my boyhood days, when my Slovenian teacher -Kos explained to me the theory of lightning according to the views of -Benjamin Franklin, a theory which clashed with the St. Elijah legend of -Idvor and nearly proved me guilty of heresy. But there was something in -these electrical discharges that Benjamin Franklin did not know, and -that knowledge was first suggested by another great American scientist, -a scientist even greater than Benjamin Franklin was in his day. - -As far back as 1842 our own Joseph Henry performed experiments -similar to those performed by Hertz, and he inferred, prophetically, -that the discharge was oscillatory. Nobody ever suggested this idea -before, but Henry’s experiments permitted such an inference. Its -oscillatory character was then demonstrated mathematically in 1853 by -Professor William Thomson of Glasgow, and his calculation was proved -to be correct by many experimental tests covering a period of over -twenty-five years, and thus the electrical oscillator, similar to the -one employed by Hertz, became a well-known apparatus. - -What, then, was the novel element in the Hertzian work? It was, -broadly speaking, his demonstration that the space surrounding -the oscillator (the spheres with their rods) participates in the -electrical oscillations in perfect agreement with the Faraday-Maxwell -theory; a participation which was foreign to all previous electrical -theories. In other words, he detected in the old electrical-oscillation -experiments a new action, never detected nor even dreamed of before. He -discovered the electrical waves in the space outside of the oscillator. -Remembering the impression which Helmholtz’s lecture on Faraday made -upon my mind, I was certain at that time that nobody in Continental -Europe but one of Helmholtz’s pupils like Hertz could have predicted -that there was in these well-known electrical oscillations a new -action, an action demanded by the Faraday-Maxwell theory. A simple -analogy will, I trust, help much to illustrate the new action which -Hertz expected when he started out to search for an experimental test -of the modern electromagnetic theory. No scientific expedition ever -started out in search of scientific treasures and returned with a -richer load. - -Here is the analogy: - - If by the force of our fingers we deflect the ends of the prongs - of a tuning-fork and then let go, the prongs will return to - their normal position after performing a number of vibrations of - gradually diminishing amplitude. The state of rest is reached when - the energy of bending, produced by the work of our fingers, has - been expended, partly in overcoming the internal friction in the - tuning-fork, partly in overcoming the reactions of the surrounding - medium, the air; this last effect results in sound-waves which are - radiated off into space. The stiffness and the mass of the prongs - of the fork determine the period of vibration, that is, the pitch - of the fork. - - I confess that in the course of my life since my Berlin days I - afforded considerable amusement to my friends whenever I tried - to explain to them the Hertzian experiments by appealing to - what I considered a well-known action of the tuning-fork. Some - of them objected on the ground that this action is just as - difficult to understand as the action of the Hertzian oscillator. - I met this objection by describing to them the action of the - reed in Serbian bagpipes which I watched when I was a boy, and - understood sufficiently well to recognize later in the action of - the tuning-fork a performance similar to that of the reed in the - Serbian bagpipes. I understood the tuning-fork because I understood - the reed. An educated American, I claimed, should find no - difficulty in understanding the action of a simple mechanism which - an uneducated Serbian peasant boy understood. - - The Hertzian electrical oscillator, described above, acts like the - tuning-fork. The process of pulling apart the two charges, the - positive from the negative, and of forcing them to the surface of - the spheres by the action of the electrical machine, is a parallel - to the process of deflecting by the pressure of our fingers the - prongs of the tuning-fork from their normal position. In one case - the tuning-fork by its elastic stiffness reacts against the bending - of the prongs. In the electrical case the electrical lines of force - in the space surrounding the oscillator react against the action - of the machine which crowds them into this space by stretching and - compressing them. This is the picture of the action of the lines - of force which Faraday gave me on the island of Arran, but I did - not understand it. In the picture the dotted curves are the Faraday - lines of force and the arrow-heads indicate the direction of the - electrical force. The Hertzian oscillator, and what Helmholtz had - told me before, made Faraday’s language and thoughts much more - intelligible. The work done by the machine is all expended upon the - stretching and compressing of the lines of force into the space - outside of the spheres, that is, upon the _electrification of that - space_. - - Compare now the motion of the tuning-fork, after the pressure - of the fingers has been removed, to the electrical motion when - the air-gap has broken down and the action of the electrical - generator suspended. The prongs are driven back to their normal - position by the elastic reaction due to the bending; but when - they reach that position they are moving with a certain velocity, - and their momentum carries them beyond that position; they move - on until the energy of the moving mass has been expended in the - work of bending the prongs in the direction opposite to that of - the original bending. The prongs begin then to move back in the - opposite direction, starting the second cycle of motion. The same - line of reasoning will carry us into the third and fourth and - every succeeding cycle of motion. It is obvious that these cycles - will follow each other during equal intervals of time, which gives - a definite pitch to the tuning-fork. A periodic motion of this - type is called an oscillation or vibration; and it is clear that - it is a periodic transformation of the energy of elastic bending - into energy of motion of the mass of the prongs including the - surrounding air, and vice versa. The motion is finally reduced to - rest when the energy of bending, produced at the start by the work - of the fingers, has been used up. The question, what has become of - that energy? is very important in this connection. The answer is: - It is used up partly in overcoming internal friction and _partly - in overcoming the reactions of the surrounding air, which result - in sound-waves_. A sound-wave is a short name describing the - physical fact that in the air here are compressions and dilatations - alternating at periodically recurring intervals. The production - of sound-waves in the air is a proof that the air in the space - surrounding the tuning-fork participates in the motions of the - tuning-fork. - - A perfectly analogous experiment was performed by Hertz with his - electrical oscillator, and his principal object was to find whether - the electrical field, that is, the electrified space surrounding - the oscillator, reacted as did the air driven by the vibrating - tuning-fork; if it did it would develop electrical waves. If these - electrical waves actually existed, what did Hertz expect them to - be? In the description of the oscillator and of its action, given - above, two things only were mentioned: the action of the electrical - machine which charges the oscillator and the reaction of the lines - of force against the tensions and pressures which crowd them into - the surrounding space. The electrical waves can, therefore, be - nothing else than periodic variations of the tensions and pressures - in the lines of force, that is to say, periodic variations in - the destiny of the lines of force in the space surrounding the - oscillator. This was what Hertz had found. - - The breakdown of the air-gap in the electrical oscillator and the - consequent suspension of the action of the electrical generator is - analogous to the removing of the pressure of the fingers from the - prongs of the tuning-fork. The electrical charges on the spheres - with the lines of force attached to them, strained by tensions and - compressions, are released, and they move toward each other through - the conducting air-gap. Just as the prongs of the tuning-fork, - after the pressure of the fingers has been removed, cannot remain - in the strained position in which they have been bent, so the - electrical lines of force, after the insulating air-gap has broken - down and the action of the machine been suspended, cannot remain - in the position to which they are stretched; they contract, and - hence their positive terminals on one sphere and the negative on - the other move toward each other. The motion of the strained lines - of force with their terminals, the charges on the spheres, has a - momentum. Maxwell was the first to show that the momentum of the - moving electrical lines of force is equal to the number of magnetic - lines of force which, according to Oerstedt’s discovery, are - produced by the motion of the electrical lines of force. - - The motion of the electrical lines of force has not only momentum - but also energy. Employing Faraday’s mode of expression we can say - that the electrical energy of the stretched electrical lines of - force is thus transformed into energy of the electrical motions. - This is perfectly analogous to the passage of the elastic energy - of the bent prongs of the tuning-fork into the energy of motion - of the moving mass of these prongs. Again, just as the momentum - of the moving mass of the tuning-fork bends the prongs in the - opposite direction and continues this bending until that motion - has disappeared, so the momentum of the moving electrical lines of - force will stretch again the electrical lines of force and continue - this stretching until the energy of motion has disappeared, when - the two spheres are charged again, but in the direction which is - opposite to that in the beginning. A new cycle of electrical motion - is then started again by the stretched electrical lines of force, - repeating itself in an oscillatory fashion until the original - electrical energy, produced by the charging electrical machine, has - disappeared. - -But where has the energy gone? This question is just as important in -this case as it was in the case of the tuning-fork. The old electrical -theories answered this question one way, and Maxwell, inspired by -Faraday, answered it in another. The old theories maintained that -there is no other electrical motion except the motion of the charges -along the conducting surface of the spheres and the rods. They paid -no attention to the motion of the lines of force, because they knew -nothing about them. Their vision did not see the lines themselves -but only their terminals, the charges. Hence, according to the old -theories, all of the energy imparted by the machine is transformed into -heat in the conducting parts of the oscillator. - -Hertz was the first to prove that a part of the energy is radiated -off into space, in a similar manner as the energy of a tuning-fork -is radiated off in the form of sound waves. He detected in the space -surrounding the oscillator the presence of electrical waves, that is, -periodically recurring variations of the density of the electrical -lines of force; he measured their length, and, having calculated -the period of his oscillator, he divided the wave-length by the -period and obtained the velocity of propagation. It came out, in his -earliest experiments, roughly equal to the velocity of light, as -the Faraday-Maxwell theory had predicted. The waves were reflected -and refracted by insulators denser than air, and all these and -other effects Hertz demonstrated to follow the laws which hold good -for light, supporting admirably Maxwell’s theory that light is an -electromagnetic disturbance. Even this preliminary report which Hertz -had sent to Helmholtz convinced everybody that the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory had triumphed, and that our knowledge of -electromagnetic phenomena had been wonderfully extended. Subsequent -experiments by Hertz and others added more and more laurels to this -first victory. - -That meeting of the Physical Society in Berlin was what I always -considered the inauguration day of the electromagnetic theory. Prior -to that day the theory existed in all its beautiful completeness, but -it dwelt on high in the celestial heights of Faraday and Maxwell. -Continental physicists needed the guidance of a Helmholtz to reach -these heights. After that day it came down to earth and lived among -mortal men and became part of their mode of thought. It was a heavenly -gift which Hertz brought down to earth. Everybody was convinced that -the science of light had become a part of the science of electricity. - -_This new knowledge was the second great revelation of the nineteenth -century. The wonderful things which followed in its wake, even before -the nineteenth century had closed, testify to the greatness of that -revelation._ - -I have often asked myself the question, Why did not our Joseph Henry, -who discovered the oscillatory electrical motions and operated with -apparatus similar to that employed by Hertz, pursue his studies -further than he did in 1842? and why did not Maxwell, the formulator -of the modern electromagnetic science, perform those ideally simple -experiments which Hertz performed? The knowledge of the electrical -oscillator was the same in 1865 as in 1887, and Maxwell undoubtedly had -that knowledge. History offers an answer to these questions and this -answer throws a splendid light upon the character of these two great -scientists. - -Soon after 1842 Joseph Henry resigned his professorship at Princeton -College, and bade good-by to his laboratory where he had made several -of his splendid discoveries, and where in 1832 he had constructed and -operated the first electromagnetic telegraph, one of the practical -results of his great discoveries. This happened long before Morse had -ever been heard of. Henry’s fame among men of science was very great -and promised to grow even greater if he continued his scientific -researches. He was still in his prime, only a few years over forty. -But a patriotic duty called him to Washington, where the Smithsonian -Institution waited for his skilled hand to organize it and to defend -it against the scheming politician. This duty tore him away from his -beloved laboratory, and he spent the rest of his life, over thirty -years, in Washington as secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, -as originator of most of the national scientific bureaus of which -this country is proud to-day. He was also the first president of -the National Academy of Sciences, chartered by Congress in 1863, -thanks to his efforts. Physical science under his leadership had -rendered valuable service to the country during the Civil War, and -the congressional charter to the National Academy of Sciences was a -graceful recognition of this service. I have already pointed out Joseph -Henry’s splendid efforts for the advancement of scientific research in -this country and shall return to it later. He was a great scientist, -but he was also a great patriot; his country stood first and his own -scientific achievements and fame stood second in his heart. That, -I am sure, was the reason why he did not pursue any further than he -did his researches of electrical oscillations. I will mention here -that one of the most gratifying results of my humble efforts was the -naming of an electrical unit after his name. My colleague, the late -Professor Francis Bacon Crocker of Columbia University, joined me most -enthusiastically in these efforts; and the Electrical Congress in -Chicago in 1893, at which Helmholtz presided, adopted the name Henry as -the unit of electrical inductance; the unit Farad was named in honor -of Faraday. No other electrical units are in more frequent use than -the Farad and the Henry, particularly in the radio art. No other men -contributed to this art as much as Faraday and Henry did. - -Maxwell resigned his professorship at King’s College, London, at the -end of 1865, soon after he had communicated to the Royal Society his -great _memoir_ on the electromagnetic theory. The electromagnetic -theory of light which, as I pointed out before, he had called “great -guns” in a letter addressed to a friend, was the climax of it. He -retired to his country place, Glenlair, in Scotland, and for five years -he was free to devote his entire time to study and meditation. That -was the highest joy of his life. But the Duke of Devonshire, a loyal -Cambridge man, had presented the university with a goodly sum of money -for the building and equipment of a physical laboratory. It was to -be named the Cavendish laboratory, after Lord Cavendish, the Duke’s -illustrious ancestor, who had devoted his life to electrical science. -This gift was the Duke’s response to the Cambridge movement in favor -of scientific research. Maxwell was called to Cambridge to become the -director of the new laboratory, and he responded, knowing well that, -from that moment on, most of his time would be devoted to organization -and administration. Duty to his university, and to the cause of -scientific research in Great Britain, stood higher in his heart than -the experimental demonstration of his great theory; that was certainly -one of the reasons why Maxwell did not perform those ideally simple -experiments which Hertz performed. But as director of the Cavendish -laboratory he had trained a number of men, in order to prepare them to -push on the line of advance where he had left it; and one of them, in -particular, was soon to take the leadership in the rapid development of -the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory. - -The examples of Henry and of Maxwell must have been in Andrew White’s -mind when in 1873 he spoke those memorable words which I quoted before -and will quote here again: - - I will confine myself to the value, in our political progress, of - the spirit and example of some of the scientific workers of our - day and generation. What is the example which reveals that spirit? - It is an example of _zeal_, ... of _thoroughness_, of _bravery_, - ... of _devotion to duty_ without which no scientific work can - be accomplished, ... of _faith_ that truth and goodness are - inseparable. - -The Hertzian experiments created quite an upheaval in the research -programme of the Physical Institute; everybody seemed anxious to drop -his particular subject of research and try his hand at the Hertzian -waves. Several candidates for the doctor’s degree yielded, but I -resisted and returned to my problem in physical chemistry, and plodded -along as if nothing had happened. I was very anxious to finish my -research, get my doctor’s degree, and return to the United States. -But I soon found out that there are currents in human life which can -influence the course of life of a young scientist much more powerfully -than even a new and powerful current of thought in physical sciences. - -During the first two months of 1888, Nikola, the Bosnian Serb, began to -look worried. He informed me confidentially that he had received bad -news about the health of his great “komshiya,” the aged Kaiser. The -audiences at the palace were separated by longer and longer intervals, -and Habel’s long table began to look deserted; the old generals with -their splendid uniforms were conspicuously absent and the historic -chop-house began to look commonplace. The daily parades of the guards -were finally suspended, and there were no expectant crowds in front of -the Imperial palace. The gay life of Unter den Linden became very much -subdued. Finally the historic event occurred: the great emperor died -on March 9, 1888. Berlin went into mourning and prepared for a funeral -such as Germany had never seen before. “I have secured a balcony for -you and your friends right over my store,” said Nikola; “I want you and -your friends to see the funeral procession as my guests.” His grief -over the death of the old emperor was really pathetic. He wanted me -and my American friends to see the great procession which, according -to his gloomy forebodings, was to mark the first step downward in the -wonderful development of the German Empire. When, consoling him, I -pointed out the well-known virtues of Crown Prince Frederick, he took -hold of his larynx and his gesture indicated that he expected the -death of the Crown Prince from his incurable malady. “What then?” I -asked him. He answered: “Ask your Bismarck and Moltke, Helmholtz and -Siemens; they are your oracles, perhaps they can answer your question; -no ordinary mortal can.” - -Nikola had never met my American friends whom he mentioned in his -invitation, but he had heard a great deal about them. My classmate at -Columbia, A. V. Williams Jackson, now the distinguished Orientalist and -professor at Columbia University, was at that time at the University of -Halle, studying with the great Orientalist, Professor Geltner. He had -visited me in Berlin and I returned his visit by spending with him a -week-end at Halle. This was shortly before the great Kaiser’s death. -Jackson’s mother and two sisters were there on a longer visit, and for -two days I felt that I was back in New York again, and I was supremely -happy. On the way back to Berlin I could not dismiss from my mind the -memory of my mother’s words: “You must marry an American girl if you -wish to remain an American, which I know you do.” Ever since my return -from Halle, I could hear these words ringing in my ear no matter where -I was, in my lodgings, in the laboratory, in the lecture-rooms, or even -in Nikola’s store. Nikola had read my thoughts, and when he mentioned -my American friends he meant Jackson and his mother and sisters at -Halle. Well, they came, they saw, and they conquered. One of Jackson’s -sisters went to Italy during that spring and I followed; she returned -to Berlin to join her mother and I followed; she went to the island of -Norderney, in the North Sea, to spend a part of the summer season, and -I followed. The Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory and the Hertzian -experiments, my research in physical chemistry, and the learned essays -of Helmholtz and Willard Gibbs, and of all the other fathers of -physical chemistry, disappeared from my mind as if they had never been -there. The only problem that could find a place there was the question: -Will she accept me? She finally did, and I made a bee-line for New -York, in order to find out how soon I could get a job there. - -The Columbia authorities were organizing at that time a new department -in the School of Mines, the Department of Electrical Engineering, and -they were glad to see me and consult me about it. It was to start its -work a year from that time, that is, the end of September, 1889. I -was offered a position in it as “Teacher of Mathematical Physics in -the Department of Electrical Engineering.” A very long title, indeed, -but such it was and an interesting bit of history is attached to it. -I accepted gladly and hurried back to Europe proud as a peacock. My -fiancée and her family met me in London and I was married in the Greek -church, according to the rites of the Orthodox faith, the faith of my -mother and of all my ancestors. - -“Marriage gives that fulness to life which nothing else can give,” -said Helmholtz when I saw him again in Berlin and informed him that -I was married and that I had been promised an academic position at -Columbia College. He approved my dropping the experimental research -and substituting in its place a mathematical research in physical -chemistry. This research was finished in the early spring and I sent -it to Helmholtz who was then in Baden-Baden. He telegraphed: “Your -successful effort approved and accepted.” Never before nor since did -I ever receive a telegram which made me more happy. The examinations -gave me no serious trouble, and in the late spring of that year I had -my doctor’s degree and became a citizen in the world of science. The -three theses which, according to old German custom, every candidate -seeking promotion to the dignity of a doctor of philosophy must frame -and defend publicly are given here, in order to show my final mental -attitude which was formulated by my scientific studies in Europe. - -I. Instruction in Physics in the preparatory schools should be as much -as possible a practical one. - -II. The Thermodynamic methods of Gibbs, von Helmholtz, and Planck form -the most reliable foundation for the study of those physical processes -which we cannot analyze by ordinary dynamics. - -III. The Electromagnetic Theory of Light deserves more attention than -it has received so far in university lectures. - -Usually these theses, appended to German doctor dissertations, are not -taken very seriously either by the candidate, who is to be promoted, or -by anybody else. But I took my theses very seriously. The first summed -up President Barnard’s doctrine relating to scientific instruction, -which I described before in connection with my description of the -American movement favoring scientific research in American colleges and -universities; the second summed up my admiration for the new science -of physical chemistry first started by our own Josiah Willard Gibbs; -and the third summed up my love for the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic -science. On these three questions in physical science I had, I thought, -quite clear and definite ideas; and that gave me much confidence that -I was about to return to the United States sufficiently equipped to -render service in return for some of the many favors which I had -received. - -As the ship which carried me back to the United States entered New -York Harbor I saw on my right Castle Garden; it looked the same as it -did fifteen years before, when I first entered on the immigrant ship, -and it reminded me of that earlier day. I said to my bride, who was -standing by my side, that I did not carry much more money into New -York Harbor than I did fifteen years before, when I first looked upon -Castle Garden, and yet I felt as rich as a Crœsus. I felt, I told -her, that I owned the whole of the United States, because I was sure -that the United States owned me; that I had an ideal American bride, -who had assured me that I had lived up to the standards of an ideal -American bridegroom; and that I had a fine position in a great American -institution and strong hopes of filling it to everybody’s satisfaction. -I enumerated all these and other things to my bride and wound up by -saying, jokingly: “I have also some prospects which modesty prevents me -from mentioning,” and then I added: “These are the only worldly goods -with which I thee endow.” - - - - -X - -THE FIRST PERIOD OF MY ACADEMIC CAREER AT COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - - -The new “Department of Electrical Engineering in the School of Mines -of Columbia College” had announced its courses of instruction quite a -number of months before I arrived in New York. The late Francis Bacon -Crocker, at that time the newly appointed instructor in electrical -engineering and my future colleague and life-long friend, had been -consulted with regard to these courses, and he was most liberal to -the theoretical side, which was to be my share of the instruction. -He attached much importance to the fundamental theory, although he -was a practical engineer. The new department was to be independent of -the other scientific departments. We had some difficulty, however, in -maintaining that independence; the older departments of engineering -showed a disposition to claim some right of guardianship over the new -infant department. For instance, many chemists thought that electrical -engineering was largely chemistry on account of the storage batteries, -the galvanic cells, and the electrochemical processes which formed an -important part of the electrical operations in the early history of -applied electricity. Others asserted that, since mechanical engineering -attended to the design and the construction of electromagnetic -generators and to the power plant which furnished the driving power, -electrical engineering was, therefore, largely mechanical engineering. - -Crocker and I maintained that there is an electrical science which -is the real soul of electrical engineering, and that every other -abstract science or its application was an incident only in electrical -engineering. We won out in spite of the fact that at other institutions -of higher learning in the United States electrical engineering was -taught in the departments of physics or of mechanical engineering. -But it was not an easy matter in those days to persuade people that -the electrical science with its applications was then, or that it -ever would be, big enough to need a department of its own, like, for -instance, civil engineering. - -A small brick shed, a temporary structure, had been built at Columbia -College to accommodate the new department. The students called it the -“cowshed,” and the boy who invented the name did not indulge in any -stretching of his imagination. It certainly looked like a cowshed. The -laboratory equipment consisted of a dynamo, a motor, and an alternator, -with some so-called practical measuring instruments. When I compared -the facilities of the new “Department of Electrical Engineering at -Columbia College” with that of the Polytechnic School in Berlin, I -felt somewhat humbled, but not discouraged. I said to Crocker: “Our -guns are small and few in number; the men behind the guns will have to -expand much beyond their present size if this department is to make any -impression upon the electrical art.” “Pupin,” said Crocker, “you have -no idea how rapidly a young fellow grows when he tries to teach a new -subject to poorly prepared beginners.” - -Crocker and I were given to understand that any additional equipment -during the first year would have to be bought from contributions -outside of the university. We raised some money by giving a course of -twelve popular lectures for which we charged ten dollars per person. -Each lecture lasted two hours; we were somewhat dubious about their -quality, and so we provided a generous quantity. We raised in this -manner three hundred dollars and bought additional equipment, but no -two young scientists ever worked harder to earn three hundred dollars. -The experience, however, was worth many times that amount. Our audience -consisted of business men and lawyers, who were either interested in -the electrical industries, or expected to become interested. They had -hardly any previous scientific training. It took much judgment and -skill to talk science to these people without shooting much above their -heads. Every one of them believed that the electrical science was in -its infancy, and that most of its useful applications were obtained -empirically by a rule of thumb. When we told them that the electrical -science was one of the most exact of all physical sciences, some shook -their heads and exhibited considerable scepticism. One of them asked -me: “Doctor, do you know what electricity is?” “No,” said I, and he -added another question: “Then how can you have an exact science of -electricity when you do not even know what electricity is?” To this -I retorted: “Do you know what matter is? Of course you do not, nor -does anybody else know it, and yet who will deny that there are exact -sciences relating to material things? Do you deny that astronomy is an -exact science?” It is a difficult thing to make unscientific people -understand that science studies first and foremost the _activities of -things and not their ultimate nature_. - -In that first course of public lectures I found it necessary to devote -much of my exposition to the correction of erroneous notions lodged in -the minds of my audience. When I told that audience that no electrical -generator generates electricity, because electricity was made by God -and, according to Faraday, its quantity in the universe is constant, -and that for every positive charge there is an equal negative one, -most members of my audience were inclined to think that I was talking -metaphysics. “Then what does it generate?” asked one of my hearers. -I answered: “It generates motion of electricity, and by that motion -it furnishes us with means of doing useful work like telegraphy, -telephony, and electrical lighting.” Then I added: “The electrical -science studies the forces which make electricity move against the -reactions of the bodies through which it moves; in the overcoming of -these reactions the moving electricity does useful work.” Illustrations -from dynamics of material bodies did not help very much, because my -audience had hardly any knowledge of even the elements of Newton’s -great work, although Newton considered these elements obvious truths. -All they knew about Newton was that he had “discovered gravitation.” -When I told them that Newton had discovered the law of gravitational -action and not gravitation itself, they thought that I was splitting -hairs. I was never quite sure that those good people had carried away -much knowledge from my lectures, but I was quite sure that they had -left much knowledge with me. In trying to straighten out their notions -I straightened out my own very considerably. Crocker was right when he -said: “You have no idea how rapidly a young fellow grows when he tries -to teach a new subject to poorly prepared beginners.” That was the real -profit from our first course of public lectures. - -Every cultured person is expected to have an intelligent view of -literature, of the fine arts, and of the social sciences, which is -as it should be. But who has ever thought of suggesting that culture -demands an intelligent view of the primary concepts in fundamental -sciences? If cultured people had it, there would be no need to renew -periodically the tiresome topic of the alleged clash between science -and religion, and there would be much more straight thinking about -things in general. Every child in the public schools should be made -perfectly familiar with the simple experiments which illustrate the -fundamental elements of Newton’s divine philosophy, as Milton calls -science. Barnard, Joseph Henry, Andrew White, and the other leaders -of scientific thought in the United States, who started the great -movement in favor of higher scientific research and of a better -scientific education, had a difficult up-hill pull, because people in -high places lacked an intelligent view of science. A famous lawyer, a -trustee of a great educational institution, looked surprised when I -told him, over thirty years ago, that one cannot teach science without -laboratories both for the elementary and for the advanced instruction. -He actually believed that graduate schools in science needed only a lot -of blackboards, chalk, and sponges, and a lecturer who could prepare -his lectures by reading books. He believed what he thought would suit -him best, namely, that a university should be built on the top of a -heap of chalk, sponges, and books. These instrumentalities are cheaper -than laboratories, and that appeals to many university trustees. The -teacher who can lecture from books and not from his experience in the -laboratory is also much cheaper. But heaven help the country which -trusts its destiny to cheap men operating with cheap instrumentalities. -I gave that trustee a lecture by reciting the sermon which Tyndall -preached in the “Summary and Conclusions” of his famous lectures of -1872-1873. I was bold enough to deliver several of these lectures to -men in high places. Some liked them and some did not, but they all -agreed that I had my own opinions upon the subject and was not afraid -to express them. - -The American Institute of Electrical Engineers had heard of my somewhat -novel opinions regarding the teaching of the electrical science in -its bearing upon electrical engineering, and it invited me to give -an address upon the subject at its annual meeting in Boston, in the -summer of 1890. The address was entitled “Practical Aspects of the -Alternating Current Theory.” It was a eulogy of the electrical -science, and particularly of Faraday, Maxwell, and Joseph Henry on the -purely scientific side, and of the technical men who were developing -the system of electrical power distribution by alternating electrical -forces. I noticed that my audience was divided into two distinct -groups; one group was cordial and appreciative, but the other was -as cold as ice. The famous electrical engineer and inventor, Elihu -Thomson, was in the friendly group, and he looked me up after the -address and congratulated me cordially. That was a great encouragement -and I felt happy. Another man, a well-known physicist and engineer, -also looked me up, and asked me whether I really expected that students -of electrical engineering could ever be trusted to swallow and digest -all the mathematical stuff which I had presented in my address. The -“mathematical stuff” to which he referred was a very elementary -theoretical illustration. I thought of my chums, the tripos youngsters -at Cambridge, and of their wonderful capacity for swallowing and -digesting “mathematical stuff,” but said nothing; the man who was -addressing me was one of those people who had a small opinion of the -capacity and willingness of our American boys to “swallow and digest” -just as much “mathematical stuff” as their English cousins do. - -A short time prior to my return to Columbia College, in 1889, a bitter -polemic had been carried on in the New York newspapers concerning the -two methods of electrical power distribution, the _direct_ and the -_alternating_ current method. The New York interests favored the first, -and another group, including the Westinghouse Company, supported the -alternating current method. The opponents of the latter method called -it the “deadly alternating current,” and did their best to discredit -it. They actually succeeded, I was told, in persuading the State -authorities to install an alternating current machine at the Sing Sing -prison, to be used in electrocution. When in my address at Boston I -recited my eulogy of the alternating current system I did not know of -this bitter polemic, but when I heard of it I understood the chilliness -among a part of my audience. - -In the following autumn I was made to understand that my address -in Boston had made a bad impression, and that it had offended the -feelings of some _big_ men who were interested in the electrical -industries. I could not help seeing the glaring hint that the new -“Department of Electrical Engineering at Columbia College” was to -suffer from the fact that one of its two instructors was accused of -an unpardonable “electrical heresy.” The great and mighty person who -broached this matter to me suggested that perhaps the easiest way out -of this difficulty was my resignation. “Very well,” said I, “I will -certainly resign if the trustees of Columbia College, who appointed -me, find me guilty of a scientific heresy.” The trustees never heard -of this incident, but my colleague Crocker did, and he said in his -characteristic manner: “There are many persons to-day who would not -hesitate to burn the witch of Salem, but no persons of that kind are on -the board of trustees of Columbia College.” Crocker was a Cape Cod man -and he had a very soft spot for the witch of Salem. - -The notion among many captains of industry that the electrical science -was in its infancy, and that it worked by the rule of thumb, made it -possible to launch an opposition of that kind against the introduction -of the alternating current system of electrical distribution of power. -Tesla’s alternating current motor and Bradley’s rotary transformer -for changing alternating currents into direct were available at that -time. The electrical art was ready then to do many of the things which -it is doing to-day so well, if it had not been for the opposition of -people who were afraid that they would have to scrap some of their -direct current apparatus and the plants for manufacturing it, if the -alternating current system received any support. A most un-American -mental attitude! It was clear to every impartial and intelligent expert -that the two systems supplemented each other in a most admirable -manner, and that the advancement of one would also advance the other. -Men like Elihu Thomson and my colleague Crocker knew that, but -ignorance and false notions prevailed in the early nineties, because -the captains of electrical industries paid small attention to highly -trained electrical scientists. That explains why in those days the -barbarous steel cables were still employed to drag cars along Third -Avenue, New York, and why in 1893 I saw the preparatory work on -Columbus Avenue, New York, for installing additional barbarous steel -ropes to drag street-cars. But, fortunately, electrical traction came -to the rescue of Columbus Avenue. - -During the summer of 1893 I had the good fortune to meet, quite often, -William Barclay Parsons, the distinguished engineer, the future builder -of the first New York subway, and to-day the distinguished chairman -of the Board of Trustees of Columbia University. He passed the summer -vacation at Atlantic Highlands, and I at Monmouth Beach, and we used -the same steamboat in our occasional trips to New York. His head was -full of schemes for the solution of the New York rapid-transit problem, -but I observed that his ideas were not quite clear on the question of -the electrical power transmission to be employed. A very few years -later his ideas had cleared wonderfully. He had visited Budapest in -1894 and had seen there surface cars operated electrically and most -satisfactorily by an underground trolley. It was a most instructive -object-lesson, but how humiliating it was to the engineering pride -of the great United States to consult little Hungary in electrical -engineering! The electrical power transmission system employed to-day -in the New York subways is practically the same which had been -proposed to and accepted by Parsons, the chief engineer, not so many -years after our trips to New York, in 1893; it is the electrical -power transmission consisting of a combination of the alternating and -direct current systems. No fundamentally novel methods were employed -which did not exist at the time when the alternating current machine -was installed at Sing Sing for the purpose of electrocuting people by -the “deadly alternating current.” In less than five years a radical -change in popular notions had taken place about a matter which was well -understood from the very first by men of higher scientific training, -like Stillwell, the chief engineer of the Niagara Power Company, and -Sprague, the well-known pioneer in electrical traction, the inventor of -the multiple unit system, without which our subway would be practicably -impossible. - -Four historical events, very important in the annals of the electrical -science in the United States, had happened in rapid succession between -1890 and 1894. The first was the successful electrical transmission of -power between Lauffen and Frankfurt, in Germany, in 1891; it employed -the alternating current system. The second was the decision of the -Niagara Falls Power and Construction Company to employ the alternating -current system for the transmission of its electrical power; Professor -Henry Augustus Rowland, of Johns Hopkins University, as consulting -expert of the company, favored this system; another consulting -scientific expert, the famous Lord Kelvin, favored the direct current -system. The third historical event was the consolidation of the Edison -General Electric Company with the Thomson-Houston Company of Lynn, -Massachusetts. This consolidation meant the end of the opposition to -the alternating current system on the part of people who were most -influential in the electrical industries. No such opposition could -exist in an electrical corporation where Elihu Thomson’s expert -opinion had any weight. The fourth historical event was the Electrical -Congress at the World Exposition in Chicago, in 1893. Helmholtz came -over as an official delegate of the German Empire, and was elected -honorary president of the congress. The subjects discussed at that -congress, and the men who discussed them, showed that the electrical -science was not in its infancy, and that electrical things were not -done by the rule of thumb. - -Once I asked Professor Rowland whether anybody had ever suggested to -him resigning from Johns Hopkins University on the ground that in -favoring the alternating current system for the Niagara Falls Power -Transmission plant he had made himself liable to a charge of heresy. -“Heresy?” said he; “I thought that my heresy was worth a big fee, and -when the company attempted to cut it down the courts sustained my -claim.” An interesting bit of history is attached to this. When the -Niagara Power and Construction Company objected to the size of the fee -which Rowland charged for his services as scientific adviser, and asked -for a reduction, the matter was referred to the court. During Rowland’s -cross-examination the defendant’s lawyer, the late Joseph Choate, asked -him the question: “Who, in your opinion, is the greatest physicist in -the United States?” Rowland answered without a moment’s hesitation: “I -am.” The judge smiled, but agreed with the witness, and his agreement -was in harmony with the opinion of all scientific men. Rowland -justified his apparently egotistical answer by the fact that as a -witness on the stand he was under oath to speak the truth; he certainly -spoke the truth when he testified that he was the leading physicist in -the United States. - -Rowland’s interest in the electrical science and its technical -applications helped much to dissipate the notion, entertained by -many, that it was empirical and still in its infancy. Bogus inventors -always encouraged this superstition. The attention which Rowland and -his former pupil, the late Doctor Louis Duncan, devoted to electrical -engineering at Johns Hopkins University helped much to raise the -status of electrical engineering. When the new General Electric -Company was organized by the consolidation of the Edison General -Electric Company and the Thomson-Houston Company, Elihu Thomson -became the chief scientific adviser of the new corporation, and its -highest court of appeals in scientific matters. I remember telling my -colleague, Crocker, that if the Thomson-Houston Company had contributed -nothing else than Elihu Thomson to the new corporation it would have -contributed more than enough. Thomson, in my opinion, was the American -Siemens, and Rowland was the American Helmholtz, of the new era in -the history of American industries--the era of close co-operation -between abstract science and engineering. With these two men among the -leaders of the electrical science and the electrical industry in the -United States, the senseless opposition to the alternating current -system of power distribution began to wane. It vanished quickly after -the Electrical Congress of 1893. The first visible result of the -co-operation between abstract science and the technical arts was the -splendid power plant at Niagara Falls, and later the electrical power -distribution system in the New York subways, in which the alternating -and the direct current systems supplemented each other most admirably. - -[Illustration: HENRY AUGUSTUS ROWLAND (1848-1901) - - First Director of the Physics Laboratory of Johns - Hopkins University] - -The scientific spirit of Rowland’s laboratory and lecture-room was -felt everywhere in the electrical industries; it was felt also in our -educational institutions. His and his students’ researches in solar -spectra and in other problems of higher physics made that spirit the -dominating influence among the rising generation of physical science in -America. It was universally acknowledged that Johns Hopkins was a real -university. The intellectual movement in favor of higher scientific -research, first inaugurated by Joseph Henry, President Barnard -of Columbia College, and Doctor John William Draper, in the early -seventies, was marching on steadily under the leadership of Rowland -when I started my academic career at Columbia, thirty-four years ago, -and he led on like a “doughty knight of Troy,” as Maxwell used to call -him. It was the spirit of Johns Hopkins which inspired the generation -of the early nineties in its encouragement of the movement for the -development of the American university. Some enthusiasts at Columbia -College went even so far as to advocate the abolition of the college -curriculum and the substitution of a Columbia University for Columbia -College; I was not among these enthusiasts, because I knew only too -well the historical value of Columbia College and of other American -colleges. What would the University of Cambridge be without its ancient -colleges? College lays the foundation for higher citizenship; the -university lays the foundation for higher learning. - -[Illustration: _By courtesy of the Columbia University Library_ - - JAMES CLERK MAXWELL (1831-1879) - - First Director of the Cavendish Laboratory at Cambridge - University] - -Speaking for physical sciences I can say that in those days there was -no lack of trained scientists who could easily have extended the work -of the American college, and added to it a field of advanced work -resembling closely the activity of the European universities. Most -of these men had received their higher academic training in European -universities, and quite a number of them came from Johns Hopkins. -But there were two obstacles: first, lack of experimental-research -facilities; second, lack of leisure for scientific research. Rowland -and his followers recognized the existence of these obstacles, and -demanded reform. Most of the energy of the teachers of physical -sciences was consumed in the lecture-room; they were pedagogues, -“pouring information into passive recipients,” as Barnard described it. -My own case was a typical one. How could I do any research as long as -I had at my disposal a dynamo, a motor, an alternator, and a few crude -measuring instruments only, all intended to be used every day for the -instruction of electrical-engineering students? When the professor of -engineering died, in the summer of 1891, a part of his work, theory -of heat and hydraulics, was assigned to me. The professor of dynamics -died a little later, and his work also was transferred to me. I was to -carry the additional load of lecture-room work temporarily, but was -relieved from it, in part only, after several years. As a reward my -title was advanced to adjunct professor, with an advance of salary to -two thousand five hundred dollars per annum. But in return for this -_royal_ salary I had to lecture three to four hours each forenoon, -and help in the electrical laboratory instruction in the afternoons. -While this pedagogic load was on my back scientific research could -not be seriously thought of. My young colleagues in other colleges -were similarly situated. This overloading of young scientists with -pedagogic work threatened to stunt, and often did stunt, their growth -and also the growth of the rising American university. “Let chairs be -founded, sufficiently but not luxuriously endowed, which shall have -original research for their main object and ambition,” was the historic -warning which Tyndall addressed to the American people in 1873, but -in 1893 there was little evidence that it was heeded anywhere outside -of Johns Hopkins University. But there they had Rowland and a number -of other stars of the first magnitude who had succeeded Joseph Henry, -Barnard, and Draper as leaders of the great movement in favor of higher -scientific research. In 1883 Rowland delivered a memorable address as -vice-president of one of the sections of the American Association for -the Advancement of Science. It was entitled, “A Plea for Pure Science,” -and described the spirit not only of Johns Hopkins of those days but -also of all friends of higher learning in science. That spirit was -advocated here by Tyndall in 1872-1873, and under Rowland’s leadership -it was bound to win our battle for higher ideals in science. The -people of the United States owe a great debt of gratitude to Johns -Hopkins for the leadership in that great movement which, as we see -to-day, has produced a most remarkable intellectual advancement in -this country. Nearly thirty years ago I heard Rowland say in a public -address: “They always say in Baltimore that no man in that city should -die without leaving something to Johns Hopkins.” When he said it -he knew that Johns Hopkins was very poor. It is poorer to-day than -ever, and no rich man in the United States should die without leaving -something to Johns Hopkins, the pioneer university of the United States. - -Rowland said once that lack of experimental facilities and of time -was not a valid excuse for neglecting entirely scientific research. I -agreed with that opinion; neglect breeds indifference, and indifference -degenerates into atrophy of the spirit of inquiry. The alternating -current machine of the electrical engineering laboratory at Columbia -was free in the evenings, and so was my time; that is, if my wife -should not object, and, being a noble and unselfish woman, she did not -object. With the assistance of several enthusiastic students, among -them Gano Dunn, to-day one of the most distinguished engineers in the -United States, I started investigating the passage of electricity -through various gases at low pressures, and published two papers in -the _American Journal of Science_. I soon discovered that most of my -results had been anticipated by Professor J. J. Thomson, of Cambridge, -who, in all probability, had received his inspiration from the same -source from which I had received mine. He not only had anticipated me -but, moreover, he showed a much better grasp of the subject than I had, -and had much better experimental facilities. I decided to leave the -field to him, and to watch his beautiful work from the outside. It was -a wise decision, because it prepared me to understand the epoch-making -discoveries in this field which were soon to be announced, one in -Germany and one in France. I turned my attention to another field. - -I must mention, however, one of the results which Thomson had not -anticipated and which created quite an impression among astronomers. I -noticed a peculiar appearance in the electrical discharge proceeding -from a small metal sphere which was located in the centre of a large -glass sphere containing air at low pressure. The discharges looked very -much like the luminous corona of the sun which astronomers observe -during eclipses, and which was always a mysterious puzzle in solar -physics. Pasting a tin-foil disk on the glass sphere, so as to hide -the metal sphere and see only the discharge proceeding from it, I -photographed the appearance of the discharge and obtained the pictures -given opposite page 294. The resemblance of these photographs to those -of the two types of the solar corona is most striking. This is what I -said about it at that time: - -“The bearing which these experimental results may have upon the theory -of the solar corona I prefer to leave to others to decide. That they -may prove a suggestive guide in the study of solar phenomena seems not -unreasonable to expect.” - -[Illustration: ELECTRICAL DISCHARGES REPRESENTING TWO TYPES OF -SOLAR CORONÆ] - -[Illustration: SOLAR CORONA OF 1922 - - Photographed by the Lick Observatory Expedition - to Australia] - -In a communication read later before the New York Academy of Sciences -I was much bolder, having previously discussed the subject with my -friends at Johns Hopkins and with the late Professor Young, the famous -astronomer at Princeton. I soon found myself advocating strongly the -electromagnetic theory of solar phenomena. A German professor, Ebert by -name, a well-known authority on electrical discharges in gases, took -me very seriously indeed, which was very flattering, but he claimed -priority. I had no difficulty in establishing my priority through the -columns of _Astronomy and Astro-Physics_, one of whose editors was -George Ellery Hale, to-day the distinguished director of Mount Wilson -Observatory. I was indeed fortunate to make his acquaintance during -that period when both he and I were very young men. His influence -prevented me from running wild with my electromagnetic theory of -solar phenomena. Thanks to the splendid astro-physical researches -at the Mount Wilson Observatory in California under Doctor Hale’s -direction, we know to-day that enormous electrical currents circulate -on the surface of the sun, and we know also from other researches that -negative electricity is shot out from all hot bodies, even from those -not nearly as hot as the sun, and that the solar corona is, in all -probability, closely related to this electrical activity on the sun. - -After giving up the subject of electrical discharges in gases I -looked around for another problem of research which I could manage -with my meagre laboratory facilities. Rowland had found distortions -in an alternating current when that current was magnetizing iron in -electrical power apparatus. This distortion consisted of the addition -of higher harmonics to the normal harmonic changes in the current. -This reminded me of harmonics in musical instruments and in the human -voice. Helmholtz was the first to analyze the vowels in human speech by -studying the harmonics which they contained. The vowel o, for instance, -sung at a given pitch, contains in addition to its fundamental -pitch--say one hundred vibrations per second--other vibrations the -frequencies of which are integral multiples of one hundred, that is -two, three, four, ... hundred vibrations per second. These higher -vibrations are called harmonics of the fundamental. Helmholtz detected -these harmonics by the employment of acoustical resonators; it was an -epoch-making research. I proceeded to search for a similar procedure -for the analysis of Rowland’s distorted alternating currents, and I -found it. I constructed electrical resonators based upon dynamical -principles similar to those in the acoustical resonators employed by -Helmholtz. These electrical resonators play a most important part in -the radio art of to-day, and a few words regarding their operation -seem desirable. In fact, there is to-day a cry from the Atlantic -to the Pacific on the part of millions of people who wish to know -what they are really doing when they are turning a knob on their -radio-receiving sets in order to find the correct wave length for a -certain broadcasting station. I am responsible for the operation, and I -owe them an explanation of it. - -The mass and form of an elastic body, say a tuning-fork, and its -stiffness determine the pitch, the so-called _frequency_ of vibration. -When a periodically varying force, say a wave of sound, acts upon the -tuning-fork, the maximum motion of the prongs will be produced when the -pitch or frequency of the moving force is equal to the frequency of the -tuning-fork. The two are said then to be in resonance, that is, the -motion of the fork resonates to or synchronizes with the action of the -force. Every elastic structure has a frequency of its own. The column -of air in an organ-pipe has a frequency of its own; so has the string -of a piano. One can excite the motion of each by singing a note of the -same frequency; a note of a considerably different frequency excites -practically no motion at all. Acoustical resonance phenomena are too -well known to need here any further comment. There are also electrical -resonance phenomena very similar to those of acoustical resonance. If -you understand one of them there is no difficulty in understanding the -other. - -If an electrical conductor, say a copper wire, is coiled up so as -to form a coil of many turns, and its terminals are connected to a -condenser, that is to conducting plates which are separated from -each other by insulating material, then the motion of electricity in -that conducting circuit is subject to the same laws as the motion of -the prongs of a tuning-fork. Every motion, whether of electricity -or of matter, is determined completely by the force which produces -the motion, and by the forces with which the moving object reacts -against the motion. If the law of action of these several forces -is the same in the case of moving matter as in the case of moving -electricity, then their motions also will be the same. The moving -forces are called the _action_ and the opposing forces are called the -_reaction_, and Newton’s third law of motion says: _Action is equal to -the opposing reaction_. I always considered this the most fundamental -law in all physical sciences. It is applicable to all motions no -matter what the thing is which moves, whether ponderable matter or -imponderable electricity. Twenty-six years ago a student of mine, -Albert R. Gallatin, brother of the present park commissioner of New -York, presented a large induction coil to the electrical laboratory -at Columbia College in recognition of my services to him, because, -he said, this formulation of the fundamental law in the electrical -science, which I have just given, made everything very clear to him. -This was most encouraging to a young professor, and it goes without -saying that ever since that time he and I have been warm friends. -He is a banker and I am still a professor, but the interest in the -fundamental principles in physical sciences are a strong bond of union -between us. - -The electrical force which moves the electricity in the circuit, just -described, experiences two principal reactions. One reaction is due -to the lines of electrical force which, attached to the electrical -charge on the condenser plates, are crowded into the insulating -space between these plates. This reaction corresponds to the elastic -reaction of the prongs of the tuning-fork, and follows the same law. -In the case of the tuning-fork the _elastic reaction is proportional -to the displacement_ of the prongs from their normal position; in the -electrical case the reacting force is proportional to the electrical -charges which have been pulled apart, the negative from the positive, -and driven to the plates of the condenser. Call this separation -_electrical displacement_, and the law can be given the same form as -above, namely: _The reacting force is proportional to the electrical -displacement_. The greater the distance between the plates, and -the smaller their surface, the greater is the reaction for a given -electrical displacement. By varying these two quantities we can vary -the electrical yielding, the so-called capacity, of the electrical -condenser. This is what you do when you turn the knob and vary the -capacity of the condenser in your receiving set. - -The moving prongs have a momentum, and a change in the momentum opposes -a reacting force, the so-called inertia reaction, which is equal to the -rate of this change. This was discovered by Galileo over three hundred -years ago. We experience the operation of this law every time we bump -against a moving object. The Irish sailor who, after describing the -accident which made him fall from the mast, assured his friends that -it was not the fall which hurt him but the sudden stop, appreciated -fully the reacting force due to a rapid change of momentum. Every boy -and girl in the public schools should know Galileo’s fundamental law, -and they would know it if by a few simple experiments it were taught -to them. But how many teachers really teach it? How many of my readers -really know that law? Just think of it, what an impeachment it is of -our modern system of education to have so many intelligent men and -women, boys and girls, ignorant of so fundamental a law as that which -Galileo discovered so long ago! - -The moving electricity has a momentum. The magnetic lines of force -produced by this motion are a measure of this momentum. Their change -is opposed by a reacting force equal to the rate of this change. This -was discovered by Faraday nearly a hundred years ago. The larger the -number of turns in the coil of wire the larger will be the momentum for -a given electrical motion, that is, for a given electrical current. But -how can anybody understand very clearly this beautiful law, discovered -by Faraday, who does not understand Galileo’s simpler discovery? The -fact that electricity, just like matter, has inertia, and that both -obey the same law of inertia, is one of the most beautiful discoveries -in science. Whenever I thought that so many intelligent and cultured -people knew nothing about it I rebelled against the educational system -of modern civilization. - -The motion of electricity in the conductor described above overcomes -reacting forces which follow the same laws as the motion of the elastic -prongs of the tuning-fork. The motion of one has, therefore, an analogy -in the motion of the other. In an electrical circuit having a coil -and a condenser the moving electricity has a definite inertia and a -definite electrical stiffness; hence it will have a definite pitch -or frequency for its vibratory motion, just like a tuning-fork; it -will act as a resonator. It is obvious, therefore, that an electrical -resonator, the pitch of which can be adjusted by adjusting its coil -or its condenser or both, is a perfect parallel to the acoustical -resonator. By means of an electrical resonator of this kind, having an -adjustable coil and an adjustable condenser, I succeeded in detecting -every one of the harmonics in Rowland’s distorted alternating currents, -in the same manner in which Helmholtz detected the harmonics in the -vowel sounds, but with much greater ease, because the pitch of an -electrical resonator can be very easily and accurately changed by -adjusting its coil and condenser. There are millions of people to-day -who are doing that very thing when they are turning the knobs on -their radio receiving sets, adjusting them to the wave-length of the -transmitting station. The expression, “adjusting them to the pitch -or frequency of the transmitting station,” is much better, because -it reminds the operator of the analogy existing between acoustical -and electrical resonance. The procedure was inaugurated thirty years -ago in the “cowshed” of old Columbia College. I called it “electrical -tuning” and the name has stuck to it down to the present time. The -word “tuning” was suggested by the operation which the Serbian -bagpiper performs when he tunes up his bagpipes, which I watched with -a lively interest in my boyhood days. Those early impressions had made -acoustical and electrical resonance appear to me later as obvious -things. - -The results of this research were published in the _American Journal -of Science_ and also in the _Transactions of the American Institute -of Electrical Engineers for 1894_. They, I was told, had never been -anticipated; and they confirmed fully Rowland’s views concerning -the magnetic reaction of iron when subjected to the magnetic action -of an alternating current. When Helmholtz visited this country in -1893, I showed him my electrical resonators and the research which I -was conducting with their assistance. He was quite impressed by the -striking similarity between his acoustical resonance analysis and -my electrical resonance analysis, and urged me to push on the work -and repeat his early experiments in acoustical resonance, because my -electrical method was much more convenient than his acoustical method. - -Helmholtz was always interested in the analysis as well as in the -synthesis of vibrations corresponding to articulate speech. The -telephone and the phonograph were two inventions which always enjoyed -his admiring attention. During his visit in America he looked forward -with much pleasure to meeting Graham Bell and Edison. The simplicity of -their inventions astonished him, because one would hardly have expected -that a simple disk could vibrate so as to reproduce faithfully all the -complex vibrations which are necessary for articulation. He spent a -Sunday afternoon as my guest at Monmouth Beach and in the course of -conversation I told him what impression the telephone had made upon me -when I first listened through it. It happened during the period when I -was serving my apprenticeship as greenhorn, and when I was trying hard -to master the articulation of the English language. The telephone plate -repeated perfectly everything spoken at the other end, and I said to -myself: “These Americans are too clever for me; they can make a plain -steel plate articulate much better than I can ever expect to do it -with all my speaking organs. I had better return to Idvor and become -a herdsman again.” Helmholtz laughed heartily and assured me that the -articulating telephone plate had made a similar impression upon him, -although he had spent several years of his life studying the theory of -articulation. “The phonograph disk is just as clever as the telephone -disk,” said Helmholtz, “perhaps even more so, because it has to dig -hard while it is busily talking.” - -My scientific friends in New York saw in the construction of my -electrical resonator and in its employment for selective detection -of alternating currents of definite frequency a very suitable means -for practising harmonic telegraphy, first suggested by Graham Bell, -the inventor of the telephone. They finally persuaded me to apply for -a patent and I did so. I often regretted it, because it involved me -in a most expensive and otherwise annoying legal contest. Two other -inventors had applied for a patent on the same invention. One of them -was an American, and the other a French inventor, and each of them was -backed by a powerful industrial corporation. A college professor with -a salary of two thousand five hundred dollars per annum cannot stand a -long legal contest when opposed by two powerful corporations; but it -is a curious psychological fact that when one’s claim to an invention -is disputed he will fight for it just as a tigress would fight for her -cub. The fight lasted nearly eight years and I won it. I was declared -to be the inventor, and the patent was granted to me. But a patent is -a piece of paper worth nothing until somebody needs the invention. -I waited a long time before that somebody came, and when he finally -showed up I had almost forgotten that I had made the invention. In the -meantime I had nothing but a piece of paper for all my pains, which -nearly wrecked me financially. - -Just about that time the newspapers reported that a young Italian -student by the name of Marconi, while experimenting with Hertzian -waves, had demonstrated that a Hertzian oscillator will send out -electrical waves which will penetrate much longer distances when one -of its sides is connected to earth. “Of course it will,” said I, “the -grounded oscillator takes the earth into closer partnership.” When as -a herdsman’s assistant on the pasturelands of my native Idvor I stuck -my knife into the ground and struck its wooden handle, I knew perfectly -well that the ground was a part of the vibrating system, and that the -sound-producing stroke was taken up by the ground much better than when -I struck the knife-handle without sticking the knife into the ground. -But I also knew that unless the boy who was listening pressed his ear -against the ground he would not hear very much. It was, therefore, -quite obvious to me that the best detector for a Hertzian oscillator -which is grounded must be another Hertzian oscillator which is also -connected to the ground. Grounding of the sending and of the receiving -Hertzian oscillators was in fact the fundamental claim of the Marconi -invention. Marconi, in my opinion, was unwittingly imitating the young -herdsmen of Idvor when, figuratively speaking, he stuck his electrical -knives into the ground for the purpose of transmitting and receiving -electrical vibrations, but the imitation was a very clever one; very -obvious indeed as soon as it was pointed out, like all clever things. - -Every now and then we are told that wireless signals might be sent -some day to the planet Mars. The judgment of a former herdsman of -Idvor considers these suggestions unscientific for the simple reason -that we cannot get a ground on the planet Mars and, therefore, cannot -take it into close partnership with our Hertzian oscillators. Without -that partnership there is no prospect of covering great distances. A -very simple experiment will illustrate this. Scratch the wood of a -pencil and ask your friends who are sitting around a table whether -they hear the scratching. They will say “No.” Put the pencil on the -table and scratch it again; your friends will tell you that they can -hear it faintly. Ask them to press their ears against the table and -they will tell you that the scratching sound is very loud. In the -third case the pencil, the table, and the ears of your friends are all -one closely interconnected vibratory system. Every herdsman of Idvor -would interpret correctly the physical meaning of this experiment. “If -Marconi had waited just a little longer I should have done his trick -myself,” I said jokingly to Crocker, and then I temporarily dismissed -the matter from my mind as if nothing had happened. But I was fairly -confident that my electrical resonators would some day find a useful -application in this new method of signalling, and Crocker was even more -hopeful than I was. I turned my attention to another problem and would -have completed its solution, if my work had not been interrupted by the -announcement of a most remarkable discovery made in Germany, I mean the -discovery of the Roentgen rays. - -I cannot describe the effects of this epoch-making discovery without -referring again to great Helmholtz. It was due to his initiative -that Hertz took up the research of electrical oscillations, which -suggested to Marconi their technical application. This started a new -technical art, wireless telegraphy, which developed into the radio -art. Without Helmholtz, not only the experimental verification of the -Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory but also the radio art might -have been delayed quite a long time. I shall point out now that the -great discovery of the Roentgen rays also was due in a great measure to -the initiative of Helmholtz. - -While in Berlin I was conducting a research upon vapor pressures of -salt solutions. For this purpose I needed the assistance of a clever -glass-blower. A Herr Mueller was recommended to me by the people of the -Physical Institute. I paid frequent visits to him, not only because I -liked to watch his wonderful skill in glass-blowing, but also because -he knew and entertained me often with the history of a remarkable -physical research which had been carried out by Doctor Goldstein, a -Berlin physicist, under the auspices of the German Academy of Sciences, -Herr Mueller, the glass-blowing artist, assisting. - -The motion of electricity through rarefied gases was first extensively -studied in Germany in the fifties and sixties by several investigators. -Hittorf was one of them, and I mention him here for reasons given -later. The English physicists took up the subject a little later, -and among them Crookes did the most distinguished work. His tubes -with a very high vacuum gave brilliant cathode rays, first discovered -by Hittorf, which produced among other things the well-known -phosphorescence in vacuum tubes made of uranium glass. In spite of the -surpassing beauty of the electrical phenomena in vacuum tubes revealed -by Crookes’s experiments, no final and definite conclusions could be -drawn from them toward the end of the seventies. But he was undoubtedly -the first who correctly inferred that the cathode rays were small -electrified particles moving with very high velocity. This inference -proved to be of very great importance. In 1893 Lord Kelvin said: “If -the first step toward understanding the relations between ether and -ponderable matter is to be made, it seems to me that the most hopeful -foundation for it is knowledge derived from experiment on electricity -in high vacuum.” This was the very opinion which Helmholtz had -formulated fifteen years earlier, and he persuaded the German Academy -of Sciences to make a special grant for a thorough experimental review -of the whole field of research relating to electrical motions in high -vacua. Doctor Goldstein was selected to carry out this work. Mueller -was his glass-blower. The most important result of this work was the -discovery of the so-called _Canal Rays_, that is, motion of positive -electricity in the direction opposite to the motion of negative -electricity, the latter being the cause of the _cathode rays_. To get -that result Mueller had to make innumerable vacuum tubes of all sorts -of shapes. He told me that if all these tubes could be resurrected they -would fill the house in which his shop was located. “But the grand -result was worth all the trouble, and I am proud that I did all the -glass-blowing,” said Mueller, with a triumphant light in his eyes, -and his beaming countenance testified that he felt what he said. He -was an artisan who loved his craft; and, judging from his remarkable -knowledge of all the vacuum-tube researches which had been conducted -up to the time of his co-operation with Doctor Goldstein, I inferred -that he was a unique combination of the science and the art involved in -the job which he was doing for Doctor Goldstein. Mueller was the first -to arouse my interest in the results of vacuum-tube researches, and I -always considered him one of my distinguished teachers in Berlin. New -knowledge is not confined to the lecture-rooms of a great university; -it can often be found in most humble shops, treasured by humble people -who are quite unconscious that they are the guardians of a precious -treasure. Mueller was one of these humble guardians. - -The importance of Goldstein’s work was due principally to the fact -that it brought into the field three other German physicists of -great acumen. The first one was Hertz. Several years after he had -completed his splendid experimental verification of the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory, he showed that the cathode rays penetrated -easily through thin films of metal, like gold and aluminum foil, -although these films were perfectly opaque to ordinary light. It was -a novel and most important contribution to our knowledge of cathode -rays, and would have been followed up by more additional knowledge -if Hertz had not died on January 1, 1894, at the age of thirty-six. -Helmholtz died several months later. Science never suffered a greater -loss in so short an interval of time. Helmholtz met with an accident -on the ship on his return trip from the United States in 1893. He -never completely recovered, although he lectured at the University of -Berlin until a few days before his sudden death in the mid-summer of -1894. Autopsy revealed that one side of his brain was and had been in a -pathological state for a long time, but nobody had ever observed that -his intellectual power had shown any signs of decay. It is a pity that -he did not live another two years; he would have seen what he told me -during his visit here he longed to see, and that is an electrified body -moving at a very high velocity suddenly reversing its motion. That, he -thought, might furnish a direct experimental test of the mobility of -ether. The discovery described below furnished such a body. - -Hertz’s work was continued and greatly extended by Professor Lenard -of the University of Kiel. He would have undoubtedly reached the -final goal if Roentgen had not announced, in December, 1895, that he, -experimenting with Lenard vacuum tubes, had discovered the X-rays. -This discovery marked the last step in the survey which Goldstein, -under the initiative of Helmholtz, had undertaken some fifteen years -before Roentgen had entered the field of electrical discharges in -high vacua. It was a great triumph for German science. The science of -electrical discharges in rarefied gases was started in Germany and in -less than forty years it had reached there its highest point. It is a -science which may justly be said to have been “made in Germany,” just -as the science of radiation. It started a new and most remarkable era -in physical sciences by extending the meaning of the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory. - -[Illustration: SIR J. J. THOMSON (1856----)] - -No other discovery within my lifetime had ever aroused the interest -of the world as did the discovery of the X-rays. Every physicist -dropped his own research problems and rushed headlong into the -research of the X-rays. The physicists of the United States had paid -only small attention to vacuum-tube discharges. To the best of my -knowledge and belief I was at that time the only physicist here who -had had any laboratory experience with vacuum-tube research, and I -got it by overtime work in the electrical-engineering laboratory of -Columbia College. I undertook it because my intercourse with Mueller, -the glass-blower of Berlin, directed my attention to this field -of research, and particularly because I did not see that with the -equipment of that laboratory I could do anything else. I decided, as -mentioned above, to leave the field to Professor J. J. Thomson, of -Cambridge, and to watch his work. When, therefore, Roentgen’s discovery -was first announced I was, it seems, better prepared than anybody else -in this country to repeat his experiments and succeeded, therefore, -sooner than anybody else on this side of the Atlantic. I obtained the -first X-ray photograph in America on January 2, 1896, two weeks after -the discovery was announced in Germany. - -[Illustration: WILHELM KONRAD RŒNTGEN (1845-1923)] - -Many interesting stories have been told about the rush to the West -during the gold-fever period, caused by the discovery of gold in the -far West. The rush into X-ray experimentation was very similar, and -I also caught the fever badly. Newspaper reporters and physicians -heard of it, and I had to lock myself up in my laboratory, which -was in the cellar of President Low’s official residence at Columbia -College, in order to protect myself from continuous interruptions. The -physicians brought all kinds of cripples for the purpose of having -their bones photographed or examined by means of the fluorescent -screen. The famous surgeon, the late Doctor Bull of New York, sent -me a patient with nearly a hundred small shot in his left hand. His -name was Prescott Hall Butler, a well-known lawyer of New York, who -had met with an accident and received in his hand the full charge of -a shotgun. He was in agony; he and I had mutual friends who begged me -to make an X-ray photograph of his hand and thus enable Doctor Bull -to locate the numerous shot and extract them. The first attempts were -unsuccessful, because the patient was too weak and too nervous to stand -a photographic exposure of nearly an hour. My good friend, Thomas -Edison, had sent me several most excellent fluorescent screens, and by -their fluorescence I could see the numerous little shot and so could -my patient. The combination of the screen and the eyes was evidently -much more sensitive than the photographic plate. I decided to try a -combination of Edison’s fluorescent screen and the photographic plate. -The fluorescent screen was placed on the photographic plate and the -patient’s hand was placed upon the screen. The X-rays acted upon the -screen first and the screen by its fluorescent light acted upon the -plate. The combination succeeded, even better than I had expected. A -beautiful photograph was obtained with an exposure of a few seconds. -The photographic plate showed the numerous shot as if they had been -drawn with pen and ink. Doctor Bull operated and extracted every one of -them in the course of a short and easy surgical operation. Prescott -Hall Butler was well again. That was the first X-ray picture obtained -by that process during the first part of February, 1896, and it was -also the first surgical operation performed in America under the -guidance of an X-ray picture. This process of shortening the time of -exposure is now universally used, but nobody gives me any credit for -the discovery, although I described it in the journal _Electricity_, of -February 12, 1896, before anybody else had even thought of it. Prescott -Hall Butler was much more appreciative and he actually proposed, when -other offers to reward me for my efforts were refused, to establish a -fellowship for me at the Century Club, the fellowship to entitle me to -two toddies daily for the rest of my life. This offer also was refused. - -On March 2, 1896, the late Professor Arthur Gordon Webster, of Clark -University, Worcester, Massachusetts, addressed a letter to the -_Worcester Gazette_, from which I quote: - - Sunday morning I went with Professor Pupin to his laboratory to - try the effect of a fluorescent screen in front of the plate. I - placed my hand under the bulb and in five minutes the current - was stopped.... The result was the best plate that I had yet - seen.... One who has tried the experiments and seen how long it - takes to obtain a good result can judge of an improvement. I think - that Doctor Pupin should enjoy the credit of having actually ... - shortened the time of exposure ten and twenty times. - -A description of the improvement, which I published in final form in -_Electricity_, of April 15, 1896, ends with the following sentence: - - My only object in working on the improvement of the Roentgen - ray photography was for the purpose of widening its scope of - application to surgical diagnosis. I think that I have succeeded - completely and I wish full credit for the work done. - -My friends suggested that I apply for a patent on the procedure and -enforce recognition that way, but I was having one expensive experience -in the patent office with my electrical resonators and did not care to -add another. - -The question of reflection and refraction of the X-rays had to -be answered, and several strange claims were brought forward by -investigators. My investigations of this matter, aided by Thomas -Edison’s most efficient fluorescent screen, resulted in a discovery, -which, in a communication to the New York Academy of Sciences, -on April 6, 1896, I summed up as follows: “_Every substance when -subjected to the action of X-rays becomes a radiator of these rays_.” -The communication was published in several scientific journals, like -_Science_ and _Electricity_, and no statement can claim the discovery -of the now well-known secondary X-ray radiation more clearly than the -one given above. But of this matter I shall speak a little later. - -Looking up some data lately I found that I had finished writing out -these communications relating to my X-ray research on April 14, 1896. -I also found a reprint of an address delivered before the New York -Academy of Sciences in April, 1895, and published in _Science_ of -December 28, 1895, at the very time when the X-ray fever broke out. -It was entitled: “Tendencies of Modern Electrical Research.” But the -X-ray fever prevented me from reading it when it was published. I saw -it three months later, but never again since that time, and I had -forgotten that I had ever composed it. I find now that the picture -which I had drawn then of the growth of the electromagnetic theory is -in every detail the same as that which I have given in this narrative. -Both of them are due to the lasting impressions received in Cambridge -and in Berlin. Evidently these impressions are just as strong to-day as -they were twenty-eight years ago, proving that the tablets of memory -have a mysterious process of preserving their records. I remember -that on April 14, 1896, I did not go to the laboratory, but stayed -at home and reflected, and read my address mentioned above. I took -an inventory of what I had done during my six years’ activity at -Columbia and I closed the books satisfied with the results. My wife, -who had helped me, writing out my reports, lectures, and scientific -communications, and who knew and watched every bit of the work which -I was doing, also was satisfied, and congratulated me. My colleague -Crocker, I knew, was satisfied, and so were all my scientific friends, -and that was a source of much satisfaction. But nothing makes one as -happy as his own honest belief that he has done his best. - - - - -XI - -THE RISE OF IDEALISM IN AMERICAN SCIENCE - - -I must make a digression now, to arrange suitable contacts between the -preceding parts of my narrative and its concluding chapters. The main -object of my narrative has been to describe the rise of idealism in -American science, and particularly in physical sciences and the related -industries. I witnessed this gradual development; everything I have -written so far is an attempt to qualify as a witness whose testimony -has competence and weight. But there are many other American scientists -whose opinions in this matter have more competence and weight than -my opinion has. Why, then, should a scientist who started his career -as a Serbian immigrant speak of the idealism in American science, -when there are so many native-born American scientists who know more -about this subject than I do? Those who have read my narrative so far -may answer this question. I shall only point out now that there are -certain psychological elements in this question which justify me in the -belief that occasionally an immigrant can see things which escape the -attention of the native. Seeing is believing; let him speak who has the -faith, provided he has a message to deliver. - - * * * * * - -A foreign-born citizen of the United States has many occasions to -sing praises of the virtues of this country which the native-born -citizen has not. Such occasions arise whenever the foreign-born citizen -revisits his native land and hears opinions about America which are -based upon European prejudice born of ignorance. On these occasions he -can, if the spirit moves him, say many things with much more grace than -a native American could. The spirit will move him if his naturalization -means that he knows America’s traditions and embraces their precepts -with sincere enthusiasm. Statements which, coming from a native -American, might sound as boasts and bragging, may and often do sound -different when they are made by a naturalized American citizen. I have -had quite a number of experiences of this kind; one of them deserves -mention here. - -Four years ago, while visiting my native land, I was invited to attend -a festive public meeting in a town not far from my native village. It -was the town of Panchevo, where in my boyhood days I went to school, -and where from my Slovenian teacher, Kos, I had heard for the first -time of Benjamin Franklin and of his kite. The earliest parts of this -narrative show that many memories of my boyhood days had nourished -in my heart an affectionate regard for this historic town. Panchevo -reciprocated, and hence the invitation. There was another reason. In -March of 1919, the chairman of the Yugoslav delegation at the Paris -peace conference invited me to go to Paris, expecting that with my -knowledge of the English language and of the Anglo-Saxon mentality I -could probably assist the delegation in its work. I spent seven weeks -in Paris. The result, I was assured by Premier Pashitch of Serbia, -was very satisfactory; and he invited me to go to Belgrade as guest -of the government, for the purpose of studying the condition of the -war orphans in Serbia. This study resulted in the organization of the -Serbian Child Welfare Association of America, whose splendid work -is known and appreciated in every part of the Serbian nation. When -Panchevo heard that I was in Belgrade it sent me the invitation. - -The literary society of Panchevo, called the Academy, had arranged a -gala public session, and the occasion was the “Wilson Day,” which -the town was celebrating. The orator of the day was a young Slovene, -a learned lawyer and man of letters. The subject of his oration was: -“President Wilson and his fourteen points.” He wound up his splendid -eulogy of President Wilson by exclaiming: “_President Wilson is an -oasis of idealism in the endless desert of materialism_.” The image -of my old friend Bilharz, the hermit of Cortlandt Street, suddenly -appeared before me, and his favorite phrase “American materialism” rang -violently in my ears. I was afraid that the United States of America -would be understood to be a part of the endless desert mentioned by the -speaker, and the possibility of such an inference I did not like. A -most enthusiastic and long-continued applause greeted this oratorical -climax, and before the applause was over the chairman, who was the -mayor of the town, approached me and asked whether I should like to -address a few words to the great assembly of the intellectuals of the -town. “I not only like to do it,” said I, “but I insist upon it.” The -chairman looked pleased, because he could not help observing that the -orator’s concluding figure of speech had stirred me up considerably, -and that my response to it might add a few lively notes to the rather -monotonous programme of the Academy session. - -I repeat here some of the sentiments which I expressed on that occasion: - - President Wilson is an idealist, and his idealism commands my - deepest respect and admiration. I deny, however, that he represents - an “oasis of idealism in an endless desert of materialism,” that - is, if the United States of America are understood to be a part - of this endless desert. I am sure that in this town, liberated - only a few months ago from the Austrian yoke, the expression - “materialism” cannot refer to the United States of America. Two - million American soldiers were fighting on the Western front when, - a few months ago, the armistice was signed; several million more - were waiting in America for their turn to join the ranks of the - allied armies in France. American industries and American savings - made a supreme effort to brace up the allied cause, and the war - was won. Go to Paris now and watch the proceedings at the peace - conference, as I was doing during the last seven weeks, and you - will find that America asks for no territories, for no mandates, - and for no onerous compensations. It is the only great power there - which preaches moderation, and demands unreservedly full justice - for the little nations. Yugoslav Dalmatia, Istria, Goricia, and - Fiume had been, in a period of stress, bartered away by some of our - allies; America is to-day the only fearless champion of your claims - to these Yugoslav lands. American men and women hastened to every - front, and there, amid many perils and discomforts, they nursed the - sick and the wounded. They fed the hungry and clothed the naked and - the destitute. This they did even before America had entered the - world war. Need I remind you that it was an American mission which, - in 1915, saved Serbia from the destructive ravages of typhus, - and that several Americans, victims of these very ravages, are - now buried in Serbia’s soil? To-day you will find Americans even - in the countries of our former enemies, in Germany, Austria, and - Hungary, doing the work of mercy and of charity. The name of Hoover - is just as well known and beloved in Vienna and Budapest as it is - in Belgium. A country of materialism cannot display that spirit - which America has displayed during this war. Let the idealism of - President Wilson remind you of American idealism. - - The phrase “American materialism” is an invention of ill-informed - Europe; but the European who has lived in the United States, and - has had the good fortune to catch the spirit of America, revolts - whenever he hears the untutored European mind utter that phrase. - Read the history of the United States from its earliest beginnings, - when the Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth Rock, three hundred - years ago, and you will find that idealism runs through it from - beginning to end. The Pilgrim fathers themselves were idealists, - who undertook the perilous voyage “for the glory of God and the - advancement of the Christian faith.” - - A hundred and fifty years later the Continental Congress of - the colonies issued, at Philadelphia, the “Declaration of - Colonial Rights,” and this declaration, as well as the documents - accompanying it and addressed to the people of the United Kingdom - and of British America, breathes the spirit of lofty idealism. The - same Congress in 1775 issued another declaration, setting forth - causes which forced the American colonies to take up arms; and in - 1776 it issued the Declaration of Independence, which announced - to the world the ideals for the attainment of which the colonists - were ready to sacrifice their lives. No other human documents ever - stated so clearly and so definitely the “divine right of man” as - these documents did. The men who composed these documents were - not ordinary men; they were idealists of the highest type. Read - the lives of Washington, Hamilton, Franklin, Jay, Jefferson, and - of other leaders of the American Revolutionary period, and you - will find what a wonderful power idealism has when the destiny of - a young nation hangs in the balance. But when the struggle was - over, after the victory had been won, the leader of the new nation, - immortal Washington, assumed the supreme executive office of the - land and retired from it after two terms of service with a spirit - of dignity and of humility which has no equal in human history. His - Farewell Address to the American people, advocating the practice of - idealism by the cultivation of religion, morality, patriotism, good - faith, and justice toward all nations, is an echo of the voice of - idealism which was the driving power of the American Revolution. - - The idealism of the Revolutionary period was the guiding star - of the American patriots of the stormy period preceding the - Civil War. One of them, Daniel Webster, was a youth of seventeen - when Washington died, and he knew personally some of the great - leaders of the Revolutionary period, like Jefferson and Adams. He - certainly caught by direct contact the idealism of this period. - Read his speeches, as I have read them during my apprenticeship - days in America, and you will understand what I mean by American - idealism, if this war has not shown it to you better than any - words of mine can do it. Webster’s idealism was in the hearts - of men of his generation, who, under the great leadership of - Lincoln, one of the greatest among American idealists, conducted - the Civil War and preserved the American Union. Lincoln’s immortal - words: “With malice toward none, with charity for all,” will - forever remind the world of the idealism which was in the hearts - of the American people who fought for the preservation of the - American Union. President Wilson is one of the best biographers of - George Washington, and he also published a splendid study of the - constitutional government of the United States. No profound student - of these themes can escape becoming an exalted idealist. His - speeches, which during the World War he addressed to the American - people and to the whole world, are sermons on American idealism, - which have guided the people of the United States from the very - beginning of their history; but some of you in Europe never - understood it. The world war has made you eager to listen to every - word which inspires your anxious hearts with new hopes. President - Wilson’s words and his acts at the Paris peace conference inspire - you with these new hopes, and hence this Wilson Day, an honor to - him and a credit to you. In honoring him you are honoring the - idealism of the American people, for which act I am most grateful - to you. - - It was here in Panchevo that I first heard of Benjamin Franklin, - nearly fifty years ago; to-day I deliver to you, people of - Panchevo, a greeting from Franklin’s native land and a message that - the cultivation of American idealism is the most powerful arm for - the defense of the destiny of your young nation. - -Hamilton Fish Armstrong, our military _attaché_ in Belgrade at that -time, was present at the meeting. He did not understand a word of -my address, because it was delivered in Serbian, but he assured me -that, judging by appearances, it must have been at least as good as -my address in Princeton in the beginning of the World War in 1914; -he was then a senior at Princeton College. The Princeton address was -a eulogy of Serbian idealism, which I had imported into America when -I landed at Castle Garden in 1874; the Panchevo address was a eulogy -of American idealism, which I had brought back to Panchevo forty-five -years later. I must confess, however, that, twenty-five years earlier, -the above address was delivered in substance to Protoyeray Zhivkovich, -the poet-priest of Panchevo, when after graduating at Columbia in 1883 -I returned for the first time to my native village. On that occasion -the poet said, and here I quote from an earlier chapter of my narrative: - - Tell your mother that I am happy to bear the whole responsibility - for your wandering away to distant America. It is no longer - distant; it is now in my heart; you have brought America to us. It - was a new world in my terrestrial geography; it is now a new world - in my spiritual geography. - -I often think of these words now, and I firmly believe that there -are many millions of people in Europe to-day who think that America -is a new world in their spiritual geography. The people in Panchevo, -I am certain, think so. But it needed a world war to eliminate from -their minds the old superstition that this is the land of “American -materialism.” The world pendulum has swung the other way, and I often -wonder whether we can live up to the very high reputation which we -enjoy in the opinion of a large part of the world, which now knows our -virtues but does not know our shortcomings. - -A short time after the Panchevo celebration, a number of scientists -of the University of Belgrade, members of the Royal Serbian Academy, -invited me to an informal conference, and asked me to tell them -something about American science and its National Research Council in -Washington. I do not think that on that occasion my discourse on this -most interesting topic impressed my Serbian friends as strongly as my -Panchevo discourse did. For a long time after this conference I thought -of many things that I might have said, but did not say. The more I -thought about it the more I was dissatisfied. I was informed several -months after this conference that one of the Serbian scientists present -remarked to a mutual friend that from my Panchevo address on American -idealism he had been led to believe that at the Belgrade conference -I would say something about idealism in American science. But I said -nothing, and he inferred, therefore, that there could not be much -idealism in American science, a thing which he had always suspected. -Many European scientists suspected that long before he did. That -permissible inference of the Serbian scientist hurt me, and it hurt -the more because I felt that the omission was unpardonable. But the -psychology at the Panchevo celebration was different from that at the -conference in Belgrade. In Panchevo a remark was made from which, I was -afraid, one might have inferred that this is a country of materialism. -Nobody at the Belgrade conference suggested the thought that American -science might, perhaps, have a taint of materialism. But, of course, no -Serbian scientist could have suggested such a thing when the memory of -the service of American science to Serbia during the typhus ravages of -1915 was still fresh in everybody’s mind. - -A fireplace fed by slow-burning wood must be stirred up often to -maintain a lively flame. Similarly, the flame of a slow mental -combustion cannot be maintained without occasional stirring. My -mental combustion at the Belgrade conference was certainly slow, and -needed a stirring up, similar to that which it received in Panchevo. -My early studies of American history and American traditions would -have proceeded much more slowly, if it had not been for my old friend -Bilharz, who stirred me up with his prejudices against American -democracy, and with his everlasting complaints against the imaginary -spectre which he called American materialism. - -This stirring up is experienced by many American citizens of foreign -birth whenever they visit their native land. Every one of these -visits speeds up the Americanization process which is going on in -them. I firmly believe that the amalgamation of the foreign-born -would be speeded up wonderfully if we could make it obligatory that -every foreign-born American citizen should revisit his native land at -stated intervals of time. Had I not visited my native land so many -times since my landing at Castle Garden in 1874, the memory of my -early experiences in America, described in the earlier parts of this -narrative, would probably have faded away completely long ago. Had -I not visited Belgrade and Panchevo in 1919 I should not have been -stirred up on the subject of American idealism, and particularly about -the American idealism in science. It was in Belgrade and Panchevo where -the stimulus was applied which revived the memory of my experiences in -Columbia College, in the Universities of Cambridge and Berlin, and in -my professorial work at Columbia University, and made me pass in rapid -review through all my experiences which have a bearing upon American -idealism, and particularly upon the idealism in American science. Ever -since, I have been revolving in my mind many of the things relating -to American science that I might have mentioned at the Belgrade -conference, but did not mention. The painting, “Men of Progress,” which -I first saw at Cooper Union in 1876, came back to my mind. The men -represented in it, like Peter Cooper, McCormick, Goodyear, Morse, and -others, did not represent the idealism in science which the Belgrade -scientist had in mind; they were practical inventors. They were the -scientific idols of the American people, but they were not idealists in -science. The time for idealism in American science had not yet arrived. -The Union Pacific Railroad had not yet been built when that picture was -painted; the Western plains had not yet been compelled to yield their -potential treasures of golden grain; and the vast quantities of coal -and mineral ore were waiting anxiously to be raised to the surface of -the earth to serve in the development of our vast territory between the -Atlantic and the Pacific. He who could aid the people in this gigantic -development became the idol of the people. The names of inventors, like -McCormick, Goodyear, and Morse, were household words with the people of -the United States, just as the names of Edison and of Bell are to-day. -Joseph Henry, the famous scientist, was also in that historic painting, -but he was in the background of it. His expression seemed to indicate -that he did not feel quite at home in a group of men who were practical -inventors. He was a friend of Lincoln, and his idealism in science was -just as exalted as Lincoln’s idealism in political philosophy. But in -those days an idealist in science attracted little attention among -the people of the United States, who were busily engaged in solving -their numerous economic problems. Hence Joseph Henry, the idealist in -science, was practically unknown. This was the mental attitude which -Europe called “American materialism” in science. De Tocqueville, the -famous French traveller and keen observer, said this about us in a book -which he published over seventy years ago: - - It must be confessed that, among the civilized peoples of our age, - there are few in which the highest sciences have made so little - progress as in the United States.... The future will prove whether - the passion for profound knowledge, so rare and so fruitful, - can be born and developed so readily in democratic societies as - in aristocracies.... The man of the North ... does not care for - science as a pleasure, and only embraces it with avidity when it - leads to useful applications. - -To-day this criticism sounds like a national libel, but fifty years -ago it was swallowed like a bitter pill which, in the opinion of many -patriotic thinkers, we needed if we were to be cured of a malady which -threatened to become a national calamity. The greatest leaders of -scientific thought in this country pointed to our educational system, -in order to prove that de Tocqueville was right and that science was -neglected in our schools and colleges. Foremost amongst them were, as -I have already pointed out in this narrative, Joseph Henry, President -Barnard, of Columbia, President White, of Cornell, Draper, Youmans, -and others. They were all idealists in science, and when they invited -Tyndall to this country, fifty years ago, they invited the most -eloquent apostle of scientific idealism. The great movement for higher -scientific research, inaugurated in England by the immortal Maxwell and -his supporters, and in this country by the great Joseph Henry and his -followers, was a movement for idealism in science, or, as Andrew White -called it, “hope for higher endeavor.” - -When the European speaks of materialism in American science, he is -resurrecting notions which de Tocqueville had in his mind when he wrote -the lines quoted above. These notions were correct, but wonderful -changes have taken place in this country since de Tocqueville wrote his -book. If he were living now and published another edition of his famous -book, I am sure that he would insert a chapter which would speak of -idealism and not of materialism in American science. - -What is the mental attitude which I call “idealism in science”? Before -answering this question it is well to quote here from an earlier part -of my narrative: - - The _eternal truth_ was, according to my understanding at that - time, the sacred background of Tyndall’s scientific faith, and - the works of the great scientific discoverers, their lives, and - their methods of inquiry into physical phenomena were the only - sources from which the human mind can draw the light which will - illuminate that sacred background. He nourished that faith with a - religious devotion, and his appeals in the name of that faith were - irresistible. His friends in America and in England, who were glad - to have him as their advocate of the cause of scientific research, - had the same faith that he had, and they nourished it with the - same devotion. I know to-day ... that this faith was kindled and - kept alive ... by the light of the life and of the wonderful - discoveries of Michael Faraday.... He was their contemporary, and - his achievements, like a great search-light, showed them the true - path of scientific progress. - -The worship of the eternal truth and the burning desire to seek an -ever-broadening revelation of it constitute the mental attitude which -I call “idealism in science.” Its growth in the British Empire, and -particularly at the University of Cambridge, has been most remarkable -since the great movement started under the leadership of Maxwell -a little over fifty years ago. What progress have we made since -Tyndall’s visit to this country in 1872? If in my narrative I succeed -in answering this question I shall be more than satisfied, and I shall -certainly send a translation of it in part to my scientific friends in -Belgrade. It will tell them what I ought to have told them four years -ago. - - * * * * * - -I return now to the point in my story where I digressed. The 14th -of April, 1896, is recorded in my calendar as a happy day. The 15th -started with a balmy spring morning full of glorious sunshine. The -suggestion to walk through Central Park to Columbia College to my -morning lecture could not be resisted, and I reached the lecture-room -full of the joy of life which fills the heart of every healthy -youth. My students told me later that the first part of my lecture -that morning displayed that joy. But, near the end of the lecture, I -suddenly collapsed. A sudden chill struck me like a bolt from a clear -sky. Five days later my life hung in the balance; there was a desperate -struggle between a stout heart and the busy poisons of dreaded -pneumonia. The heart won out. But when the crisis had passed, and my -physician thought that I was sufficiently strong to stand the shock of -terrible news, he told me that my wife had died several days before, a -victim of dreaded pneumonia. She had caught the seed of this merciless -disease while nursing me. My weakened heart stood the shock, but every -one of my nerves seemed to snap in two. For the first time in my life -I recognized the full meaning of will-power; I recognized it because -I knew that the spiritual motor, the power of which I had always -felt, was there no longer. For the first time since leaving my native -Idvor, twenty-six years before, I had to be steered and looked after -by others. Life never looked so hopeless as it did during that awful -spring of 1896. But I wanted to live, because I had a little daughter -to bring up. That, in fact, was the only thing that I wanted to live -for; everything else seemed either devoid of interest, or much beyond -my reach. It is an awful thing to lose one’s self-reliance. Aims and -aspirations appeared to me like little toy balloons that children play -with; our nerves, I thought, are the strings which keep them afloat -within the reach of our vision. When these strings snap in two, our -aims and aspirations, like toy balloons, disappear rapidly into thin -air. - -My physician recommended that during that summer I should settle down -in Norfolk, Connecticut, to give the bracing climate of this New -England town in the Berkshire hills a chance to rebuild what overwork, -under nervous tension, and pneumonia had undermined and torn down. A -New York physician, who knew me through my X-ray work, offered to rent -me his summer residence, facing Haystack Mountain, the highest peak in -Norfolk, and I accepted it. This mountain is really only a hill, hardly -one thousand feet higher than the road at its foot, but as I sat on -the piazza in front of that little cottage and looked at the so-called -observatory, a square frame structure on the top of this hill, from -which people caught the distant view of the Housatonic valley, I -wondered whether I should ever be strong enough to climb to its top. -I recalled my exploits in Switzerland, thirteen years before, and, -utterly discouraged by the comparison, I accepted with calm resignation -that I had grown old and decrepit in less time than it takes other -people to become middle-aged. Whenever I thought of my past, present, -or future, I always managed to draw some gloomy conclusion of that -kind, and, so far as my cloudy fancy could see, I felt that I had -finished my career in dismal failure. People told me that these were -queer notions due to mental depression, from which I would soon -recover. But, as time went on and there was no relief, I resented it -when people tried to console me with, what I considered, empty promises -of a brighter future. There suddenly appeared an angel who promised -nothing but gave much. - -Another New York physician, the well-known Doctor Frederick Shepard -Dennis, also an admirer of my X-ray work, had a summer residence at -Norfolk. He was practically a native of this quaint New England town, -and believed in its great virtues as a resort for convalescents. He -was very anxious that my summer vacation there should put me on my -feet again, but he saw that my introspective life on the lonely piazza -facing Haystack Mountain blocked every road which might lead to my -physical and mental restoration. “Professor,” said he one day to -me, “if you do not stop thinking about yourself you will never get -well.” “But,” said I, “what else is there to think about? I hate to -think about that horrible green phosphorescence of vacuum tubes, about -the X-rays, fluorescent screens, and skeletons of hands and feet and -ribs. Those are the things which haunted incessantly my burning brain -during the pneumonia fever, and I shall never think of them again if -I can help it. I should like to think about some other problems which -are waiting in my laboratory, but what is the use? I have no hope of -living long enough to solve them, or that, if I live, I shall have the -necessary brain energy to work out their solution. Besides, whenever I -begin to think of something pleasant or interesting my heart suddenly -gives a violent thump, and sends a cold shiver through my timid veins. -I must think of myself, because I am always on my guard against -something that might happen at any moment to cut the last thread of -my shaky vitality. It is this everlasting fear that keeps me thinking -about myself.” The good doctor looked thoughtful, but said nothing; -a few days later he drove up in a little yellow runabout, drawn by a -pair of cobs of beautiful dark chestnut color, which were a splendid -product of his stud farm; they shone like old mahogany. “How do you -like them, professor?” asked the doctor, as he scrutinized my admiring -gaze. “They are a thing of beauty and a joy forever,” said I, and I -meant what I said. The next day the cobs, with wagon and harness, were -mine; they were only three years old, and, although broken to harness, -they were quite raw and needed training. I got them after pledging my -word to the doctor that I would train them. My native Banat is like -Kentucky. Everybody raises horses, and everybody knows by intuition how -to handle a horse. I was told by experts that I handled those cobs just -right. While training them I really trained my own nerves. They needed -it more than the cobs did. “Horse sense” has meant to me ever since a -sense which enables man to train a horse, and that means to give up -your whole heart and soul to the horse. The trainer must never think -of himself, but always of his beloved animal. He must be patient and -persistent, kind and affectionate, forgiving mistakes and showing full -appreciation for even the smallest honest effort. Only by the exercise -of these virtues can he succeed in developing in the horse the habit -of being a splendid horse. Doctor Dennis was a great lover of horses, -and he knew all that, and thought, as he told me later, that it was the -best medicine for me. - -My cobs acquired the best of habits, and at the end of a year they were -two beautifully balanced animals, carrying their proud heads on high, -and stepping up in perfect unison. They seemed, when in full action, to -be anxious to strike their foreheads with their knees. To sit behind -those animals, and watch their swaggering motion around the horse-show -ring, gave a thrill never to be forgotten. The New York horse-show in -Madison Square Garden, in the autumn of 1897, and the Philadelphia -horse-show at Wissahickon, in the spring of 1898, established the -great reputation of Comet and Princess Rose, the cobs that I had been -training during eighteen months. They won many prizes, but none of -them was as welcome as the prize of my restored health. I got well -without knowing that I was getting well; the only improvement that I -was watching and thinking about was the improvement of my beautiful -cobs, but, nevertheless, my laboratory assistant Cushman noticed in -the early spring of 1897 that I had already begun to speak much more -encouragingly about some of my old laboratory problems; he noticed it, -and he was happy again. The X-ray problems were not among them; I never -recovered from the feeling of horror which the thought of them gave me -during my sickness in April, 1896. - -Reginald Rives, one of the social leaders of New York, was the judge at -Wissahickon who awarded the prizes to my cobs. We had been in college -together, but when he saw me at the horse-show he did not recognize me -at first, because, as he informed me later, he did not expect to see -a college professor driving high-steppers at a horse-show. He spoke -very highly of my cobs, which won from a competitor like millionaire -Widener’s stable in Philadelphia. - -“Pupin,” exclaimed Rives, “if you can handle your students as well as -you can handle your cobs, you are the greatest professor in America.” -“I could,” said I, “if I had to handle only two students at a time, but -not two hundred.” Rives repeated this remark to his brother, a trustee -of Columbia University, and the trustee saw in it quite a chunk of -educational philosophy. The preceptorial system at Princeton reminds -one of this philosophy. Will the American colleges ever adopt it? - -A famous Boston lover of horses, a Mr. Jordan, saw my cobs at the -Wissahickon horse-show and made me a handsome bid for them in cash -besides “throwing in” a very handsome Irish hunter which had won a -prize in the jumping class. The hunter became my saddle-horse, and -served me loyally for fully twelve years. No better saddle-horse ever -cantered over the hillsides of Litchfield County than Clipper, the -Irish hunter, my trusty friend and companion, particularly during my -summer vacations. Thanks to Comet and Princess Rose, and to good old -Clipper, and to the bracing climate of Norfolk hills, the joy of life -returned again. - -My first job after landing at Castle Garden was on a farm, and there I -had vowed that as soon as I could afford it I would buy myself a real -American farm. A little over twenty years later, in 1897, I bought a -farm at Norfolk; this blessed spot, where I regained my health and -happiness, became my real American home, and I have never had a desire -to seek a better haven of happiness in any other place, either here or -in Europe. - -The native of Norfolk is a typical Connecticut Yankee. Neither the -wealth nor the social position of a new summer visitor can faze him. -His dignity and self-respect forbid him to kowtow to any city swell. -You will get his respectful attention if you deserve it; but you must -earn it by your acts at Norfolk. You cannot command it by the power -of anything you bring with you from the city to your summer vacation. -While you are in Norfolk in summer, you are a summer boarder, an -outsider, with traditions back of you which no native of Norfolk knows -anything about. The force of all this was once so strongly impressed -upon me that I never forgot it. - -[Illustration: PUPIN’S RESIDENCE AT NORFOLK, CONN., WITH ADJOINING -FARM BUILDINGS AND THE 500-TON SILO] - -Norfolk, like every New England town, has its annual town meetings, -when the accounts of the town for the closing current year are -carefully analyzed, appropriations are made for the coming year, and -the selectmen and other administrative officers are elected. After -I had become a landowner in Norfolk, I attended these town meetings -regularly, and took part in their discussions, and there for the first -time I became acquainted, by personal contact, with the fundamental -elements of Anglo-Saxon civilization. At one of those town meetings -I urged the improvement of the public highways, using the argument -that better roads would attract more summer residents from the great -cities and, I was certain, would advance the prosperity of the town. -My arguments were received with respectful silence, and no sooner had -I finished my speech than a Mr. Nettleton, the oldest voter in the -township, got up and, turning his black goggles toward me, addressed me -somewhat as follows: - -“Our roads are just as good as they ever were; our ancestors taught -us how to take care of them, and they are good enough for us. You say -that if we improve them we would get more summer visitors, who, with -their wealth, would increase the prosperity of our town. We don’t care -for that kind of prosperity; it brings vanity and false pride into -our New England homes, which you city people carry around with you.” -Then, pointing his trembling finger at me, the old man exclaimed: “You, -particularly, are guilty of this offense; you were the first who showed -our simple people here how to swagger about this town on a horse with a -rabbit tail.” - -He referred to the almost universal custom at that time of docking a -horse’s tail; the tails of my famous cobs as well as of my saddle-horse -Clipper had been docked. After this speech, I suspended my propaganda -for more up-to-date roads. Two years later, another incident occurred -which is worth relating here. Mr. Carter, a Norfolk hunter of much -local fame, had a fine pointer dog. He went to Europe one summer and -left his dog in charge of a friend. But the dog ran away, and chased -through all the woods of Norfolk, looking for his master. One day he -came to my house; he was hungry, thirsty, tired out, and perfectly -unhappy, having failed to find his master. I petted him, gave him fresh -water to drink and some food to eat, and, while he was feasting, spoke -to him and paid him many compliments on account of his affectionate -attachment to his master. After his hearty meal he fell asleep near my -feet on the piazza, and when he woke up he looked at me and seemed to -be a much happier dog. From that moment on he followed me everywhere, -running after my horse when I went out riding. One day I was cantering -slowly along the road passing old Nettleton’s house. I saw the old man -standing near the road, apparently waiting for somebody. When I was -quite near him he beckoned me to stop, which I did, and he addressed me: - -“Professor, I was very severe with you two years ago at that town -meeting. But I did not know you; now I do. That dog there would not -stay with anybody in this town, but he stays with you, and he follows -you just as he followed his master. You are good to him, and the dog -knows it. I have great confidence in a dog’s judgment, and I know now -that you are a good man, just as good as any of the folks in this here -New England town.” Then, stretching out his bony hand to me, he said: -“Shake, forgive and forget, and let us be good friends. I shall never -oppose you again at our annual town meetings. What’s good for you is -good enough for me and for our little town.” - -No offer of friendship was ever more welcome to me, and there never -was a friendship of which I was more proud. Before many days had -passed, the natives of Norfolk, from the illustrious Eldridge family, -the angels of the town, down to the most humble day-laborer, felt the -same toward me as old Nettleton did; that is, I always thought so, and -I have never had any reason to think otherwise. No resolution moved -by me at the annual town meetings ever failed to pass, but I always -moved slowly, and not until I was quite sure that the motion was in the -right direction. I would sooner have risked losing the good opinion of -the trustees of Columbia University than that of the good people of -Norfolk, my American Idvor. During my summer vacations in Norfolk, I -have always felt just as much at home, and as happy and contented, as I -did in my native Idvor when, during my student days in Europe, I spent -my summer vacations there. Whenever I returned to my laboratory from -my summer vacation in the bracing atmosphere of Norfolk, I have always -felt that no problem there could resist the force of my stored-up -nervous energy. That feeling early encouraged me in the belief that I -had completely recovered from the breakdown of the spring of 1896, and -this belief gave wings to every new effort. - -When the news of the discovery of the Roentgen rays reached me in -December of 1895, I was busy with the research of a problem which I -had taken up in 1894, while making a foot tour in Switzerland. This is -the problem which I took up again after the recovery from the breakdown -of 1896. I must confess here that I never returned to X-ray research, -because for a long time after my illness even the sight of an X-ray -tube made me almost hysterical. - -During the first half of the summer of 1894, Mrs. Pupin and I were -staying at a little hotel on Lake Wannensee in Switzerland; I was -preparing my lectures on the mathematical theory of sound. Lord -Rayleigh’s treatise called my attention to the classical problem which -ten years before I first saw in La Grange’s famous treatise. I had -bought it second-hand in Paris, and had studied it in my mother’s -garden at Idvor. The problem was a hypothetical one relating to an -imaginary and not to a real physical case. It may be stated as follows: - -A string without weight is stretched like a violin string between two -fixed points; at equidistant intervals along this string are attached -equal weights, say bird-shot. The problem is, how will this string, -loaded with weights, vibrate when disturbed by an impulse? La Grange -found a beautiful solution for this historic problem, and the solution -marks the beginning of an epoch in the history of mathematical physics. -This solution enabled him to analyze mathematically the vibrations -of a violin string, one of the famous mathematical problems of the -eighteenth century. I made a bold attempt to find a solution for a more -general and less hypothetical form of this problem. I supposed that the -string itself had weight, and that it, as well as the little weights -attached to it, moved through a viscous medium. I felt intuitively -what the solution should be, and considered it of much scientific -importance. I finally found the most general mathematical solution of -this generalized problem, and the beauty of it was that it could be -stated in a very simple language. I shall state it later. The solution -was exactly what I had expected it to be, and it thrilled me more than -any work that I had ever done. I always believed that my training -in ground-signalling which the herdsman of Idvor had taught me some -twenty years before was responsible for this intuitive guess. Early -impressions, particularly those relating to novel scientific facts, are -very intense. - -I was much encouraged by the thought that I was able to add very -substantially to the solution of a historic problem first solved by -famous La Grange. In order to communicate some of my joy to Mrs. -Pupin, I told her that I was ready to give up mathematical reading -for the rest of that summer, and we started on a drive through -Switzerland. That is, she drove, while I walked a good part of the -time, particularly when the carriage was moving along the zigzag roads -going up to a pass, which happens often in Switzerland drives. Making -short cuts, I met her every now and then on the up-grade parts of the -steep and winding roads, and rode with her on the down-grade. During -these walks, being alone, I pondered a great deal about my solution -of the generalized La Grangian problem. One day, while climbing up to -the Furka pass, it occurred to me that since the motion of electricity -through a wire experiences reacting forces similar to those in the -motion of the material elements in a stretched string, my generalized -solution should be applicable to the motion of electricity, and I was -immediately aware that I had made a very important invention. I tried -to convince Mrs. Pupin of it, but she said: “I will believe what you -say and will gladly congratulate you if you will promise that you -will not be absent-minded during the rest of our trip.” I promised, -but it was very difficult to live up to the promise. I never told her -how often I longed to be back in my modest laboratory in the musty -cellar under President Low’s office at Columbia College, and that too -in spite of the heavenly beauty of the views which on my walks met -me on every turn of the winding roads which lead up to the wonderful -passes of Switzerland. I was most anxious to submit my theory to an -experimental test. When our tour in Switzerland was finished I had -every detail of the proposed experimental tests worked out in my head, -and yet my good wife never accused me of being absent-minded. In less -than a year from that time I had finished my first rough test, and was -preparing for a more elaborate investigation when the discovery of the -X-ray was announced, at the very end of 1895, and I, like everybody -else, dropped everything and eagerly sought information about this -wonderful discovery. It was the work I dropped then which I took up -again after my recovery from the breakdown of 1896. - -Now what is the invention which occurred to me first on my walk to the -Furka pass in Switzerland in the summer of 1894? A bit of scientific -history is connected with it, which I shall tell here briefly: - -A vibrating motion of electricity at one end of a long wire is -propagated along the wire in much the same way as the vibratory motion -of a rope or string is propagated from one of its terminals to the -other. This propagation of electrical motion from one end of a long -conducting wire to the other was first investigated by Professor -William Thomson, the late Lord Kelvin, of the University of Glasgow, -in 1855, when the first Atlantic cable was projected. He worked out -the problem for electrical signalling over a submarine cable, and -three years later Kirchhoff, who was one of my teachers in Berlin, -worked it out for telegraphic signalling over land-lines stretched over -poles. When telephony was invented in 1876, there was, of course, a -demand for a mathematical theory of telephonic transmission over long -conducting wires. He who understood Thomson’s and Kirchhoff’s work -could experience no serious difficulty in working it out. Vaschy, a -Frenchman, and Heaviside, an Englishman, were the first to work it out; -they did it in the chronological order just indicated, Vaschy leading -Heaviside by about two years. They both observed that just as in cable -and land-line telegraphy so also in telephony the reduction of the -transmitted electrical force was the smaller the larger the so-called -inductance of the transmitting wire. Many people believe that this -observation was an important discovery; I never thought so, because -I believed that Thomson’s and Kirchhoff’s work made that observation -obvious. But, however that may be, the observation was made by Vaschy -two years before it was made by Heaviside, and neither one nor the -other saw in it a special case of a general physical principle, which -the Allies appreciated much during the World War in their struggles -against the submarines. I shall describe it briefly: - -Sound is transmitted through water or through a solid much more -efficiently than it is through air. I knew that, when, as herdsman’s -assistant in Idvor, I learned the art of signalling through the ground. -Now why should water or hard and heavy ground transmit sound better -than air does? Idvor’s herdsman did not tell me that, but, having -gained the knowledge of the fact very early, I was prepared to seize -upon the dynamical explanation as soon as I needed it; and I felt the -need of it in Switzerland in the summer of 1894. - -Transmission of sound means transmission of vibratory motion from -one element of a substance to the contiguous elements. The element -which transmits its vibratory energy acts and the elements which -receive it react. Each element is capable of exerting three reacting -forces. One is against the change of velocity of its motion, that -is, against change of momentum. This reaction is called the kinetic -reaction, and, as I have pointed out before, it was discovered by -Galileo three hundred years ago. The second reaction is against the -elastic compression of the receiving element. It is called the elastic -reaction, and was discovered by Hook, a contemporary of Newton, two -hundred years ago. The third is a frictional reaction, the knowledge -of which is very old. There are, therefore, three forms of energy -generated in the reacting element of every vibrating body by the work -of the acting element. The first reaction results in energy of motion -of the mass of the reacting element; the second one results in the -energy of its elastic compression; and the third one generates heat. -The first and the second are energies of sound vibration and are -transmitted again to the contiguous elements, but the third is not a -vibratory sound energy and is not transmitted as such; it remains as -heat and represents the reduction of sound energy transmitted from any -one part to the contiguous parts. It is obvious that this reduction -will be, relatively, the smaller the greater the first two reactions -are in comparison with the frictional reaction. Heavy, incompressible -bodies, like water, metals, or hard solid ground, have incomparably -greater kinetic and elastic reactions than air, hence they transmit -sound much better than air does. This physical principle did splendid -service during the World War in submarine and subterranean detection by -sound. The herdsman’s assistants in Idvor, when I was a boy, profited -much from it in their signalling through the ground. I am not aware -that Vaschy and Heaviside had a clear knowledge of it. If I am correct, -then it is quite remarkable that Serb peasants should have been -cognizant of a physical principle which was probably unknown to English -and French savants, like Vaschy and Heaviside. - -Passing now by analogy from motion of matter to motion of electricity, -we can, speaking figuratively, state that vibratory motion of -electricity will be transmitted from one end of a conducting wire to -the other the more efficiently the heavier and the less compressible -that electricity is, or, dropping now our figurative mode of speech, -we can say that, other things being equal, the higher the kinetic and -the elastic reaction of the moving electricity the more efficiently -will the energy of its vibratory motion be transmitted over the wire. -But that means that the inductance of the wire should be made as large -and its capacity as small as possible. That much was perfectly obvious -in Thomson’s and Kirchhoff’s work, some twenty years before Vaschy and -Heaviside took up the mathematical theory of telephonic transmission. -These two celebrated mathematicians, however, deserve much credit for -their enthusiastic backing of inductance among the sceptical telephone -engineers, who, at that time, knew little of the mathematical theory -and of the general principle of transmission of vibratory motions. - -A coil of wire wound around an iron core is the first picture in our -mind when we hear inductance mentioned. Hence, if inductance increases -the efficiency of transmission in a telephone transmission-line, and -you cannot introduce it into the line in large amounts in any other -way, then one would certainly suggest putting a lot of coils into the -telephone-line and examining the results of this haphazard guess. -Vaschy tried this guess, and failed. The late Mr. Pickernell, chief -engineer of the long-distance department of the American Telephone and -Telegraph Company, also tried it, and he also failed. It was obvious -that, as Heaviside expressed it, experiment gave no encouragement with -regard to inductance introduced in this way. I tried it and found that -experiment offered very much encouragement to inductance introduced -this way; I succeeded, because I did not guess; I was guided by the -mathematical solution of the generalized La Grangian problem. What -does this solution say when applied to electrical motions in a wire? -It says this: Place your inductance coils into your telephone-line at -such distances apart that for all vibratory motions of electricity -which it is desirable to transmit there shall be several coils per -wave-length. In telephonic transmission of speech that means one coil -every four or five miles on overhead wires, and one coil in about every -one to two miles in a telephone cable. For these wave-lengths, the wire -possessing discreet lumps of inductance in the form of inductance-coils -acts like a wire with uniformly distributed inductance. Such a wire -transmits efficiently according to the general physical principle -described above. In order to illustrate this by a mechanical analogy, -we can say that a light silk cord stretched between two fixed points -and carrying at equidistant points heavy bird-shot will act like a -heavy uniform cord for all vibratory motions the wave-length of which -embraces several intervals separating the bird-shot, and will transmit -these motions much more efficiently from one end of the cord to the -other than if the bird-shot were not there. This simple experiment -with bird-shot and a long stretched cord can easily be tried; it is -a very inexpensive experiment and will convince you even if you know -nothing about the mathematical elements of the problem. This is the -simple experiment which I had in my head during my tramping along the -zigzag roads in Switzerland in 1894. A professor of physics, who often -acted as consulting physicist to telephone companies, had such a loaded -cord hung up over his lecture-room table for the purpose of explaining -transmission of wave-motion from one end of the cord to the other, but -he never inferred anything from it regarding loading a telephone-line -with inductance-coils. When I called his attention to it, and joked -about it, he blamed his hard luck, implying, I thought, that solving a -dynamical problem and building upon the foundation of this solution an -electrical invention is a question of luck. - -From the simple apparatus, just referred to, to the elaborate -electrical demonstrations which would convince stubborn and -hard-headed telephone engineers, was a very long pull. The most -embarrassing feature in these demonstrations was that I could not -afford large expenditures of money to carry them out on actual -telephone conductors; besides, it would have been unwise to disclose -to interested parties, the owners of long-distance telephone-lines, a -theory for which I had not yet obtained a satisfactory experimental -proof. I had to invent laboratory apparatus equivalent to telephone -lines or cables of great length, which would enable me to do all the -experimenting in my laboratory. That required almost as much thought, -inventive effort, and mathematical achievement as the solution of the -extended La Grangian problem. - -The first part of my research I communicated to the American Institute -of Electrical Engineers in March, 1899. It dealt only with the -mathematical theory of my laboratory apparatus. It spoke a great deal -about La Grange, but nothing directly about the invention. In October -of that year, a friend of mine, Doctor Cary T. Hutchinson, told me -that he suspected that an invention was hidden in that communication. -“If you have detected it, others have detected it also, and are by -this time in the Patent Office,” said I. “Are you not there yourself?” -asked Hutchinson, looking somewhat disturbed, and when he heard that I -was not he looked discouraged. When, however, I declared my readiness -to undertake to design for some clients of his a telephone cable to -operate between New York and Boston, guaranteeing to employ a wire not -bigger than in ordinary cables capable of operating satisfactorily -over a distance of only twenty miles, Hutchinson grew quite serious, -and advised me to apply for a patent before doing anything else. I -finally followed his advice, and not any too soon. There were others, -besides Hutchinson, who had recognized that in my communication to -the American Institute of Electrical Engineers there was hidden an -invention for which telephone engineers had been eagerly waiting ever -since the birth of the telephone art. This created an interference in -the Patent Office which annoyed me, but not nearly so much as I had -been annoyed there before. About a year from the date of my application -for patent, the American Telephone and Telegraph Company acquired my -American patent rights, treating me most generously. It gave me what I -asked; my friends thought that I had not asked enough, but to a native -of Idvor a dollar looks much bigger than to a native of New York who -may be a next-door neighbor to some Morgan or Rockefeller. Besides, -the opinion of the highest telephone authority in the world that my -solution of the extended La Grangian problem had a very important -technical value was much more gratifying to me than all the money in -the world. - -In Europe, and particularly in England, the invention came as a -surprise; they did not expect an American to make an invention which -required so much mathematical analysis of electrical motions, to which -the American physicist had contributed very little, whereas Vaschy and -Heaviside had written volumes about it. But these writers had paid too -little attention to classical writers like La Grange, Thomson, and -Kirchhoff. The construction of the inductance-coil required almost as -much mathematical analysis as the dynamical theory of the invention, -and the method of testing it also was new to the telephone engineers. -The coil is now known all over the world as the Pupin coil, and many -people think that the coil itself is the invention. - -When it became known that I had studied at the Universities of -Cambridge and of Berlin, my English and German friends claimed the -credit of the invention for the scientific training which I had -received at their universities. I think the French had a better -claim, because it was La Grange who helped me more than any other -mathematical reading. As a matter of fact, the engineers of the -American Telephone and Telegraph Company and the herdsmen of Idvor -deserve most of the credit. The first formulated the problem the -solution of which led to the invention, and the second taught me the -art of signalling through the ground which guided me to the physical -principle which underlies the invention. - -A vice-president of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, who -is a very high authority in telephony, informed me recently that one -way to describe, roughly, the value of the invention is as follows: -If during the past twenty-two years his company had been compelled to -extend its network of conductors so as to give, without employing my -invention, the same service which it is giving to-day, it would have -had to spend at least one hundred million dollars more than it has -actually expended. But after quoting him I wish to call attention to -a fact which the public often overlooks. I ask, where are those one -hundred million dollars which the invention has saved? I know that not -even a microscopic part of them is in the pockets of the inventor. -I have figured out also, with the same accuracy with which I once -figured out the invention, that those hundred million dollars are not -in the pockets of the telephone company. They must be, therefore, in -the pockets of the American public. The invention made it possible to -give the telephone service, which is now being given, at a lower rate -than would have been possible if one hundred million dollars more had -been spent. Every good invention benefits the public immeasurably more -than it benefits the inventor or the corporation which exploits the -invention. I certainly consider myself a public benefactor, and the -National Institute of Social Sciences called me so when it gave me a -gold medal almost as big as the full moon. But this gift would have -made me much more happy if the institute had at the same time given -another gold medal to the American Telephone and Telegraph Company. - -Some fifteen years ago, when Frederick P. Fish, the famous patent -attorney, was the president of the American Telephone and Telegraph -Company, I asked him in the course of a conversation whether he would -like to sell me back my invention. “Yes,” said he, “but only if you -will buy the whole telephone company with it. Our whole plant has been -adjusted to the invention, and when one goes the other also must go. -The invention has enabled us to detect many defects in our transmission -system, and if it had done nothing else than that it would have -been worth at least ten times what we paid you. It is the greatest -faultfinder that we ever struck, and it is the only form of faultfinder -for which we have any use.” A progressive industrial organization -courts the criticism of an accurate and friendly faultfinder. It -leads to research and development, and that supplies the vital energy -to every industry. Twenty-five years ago the American Telephone and -Telegraph Company had a small laboratory in Boston, where it did all -its scientific research and development. But, presently, faultfinders -like my inventions moved into the peaceful and drowsy precincts of -that tiny laboratory, and stirred up the engineers and the board -of directors. I am very happy whenever I think that, possibly, my -inventions have contributed some to this healthful stirring up. What -was the result? To-day the American Telephone and Telegraph Company and -the affiliated Western Electric Company employ about three thousand -persons at an expenditure of some nine million dollars annually in -their research and development work. The scientific research work at -our universities looks very modest in comparison with operations of -this kind. Young men of the highest academic training and splendid -talents are busy day and night exploring the hidden treasures on the -boundary-lines between the various sciences and the science and art of -telephony, and their discoveries, I am sure, are the best investment -of this great industrial organization. For instance, their development -of the many details in my invention have been wonderful, and give -testimony of the highest kind to the excellence of their scientific -research. It is not so much the occasional inventor who nurses a great -art like telephony and makes it grow beyond all our expectations, as -it is the intelligence of a well-organized and liberally supported -research laboratory. When I think of that I am perfectly convinced that -very few of the great advances in the telephone art would have happened -under government ownership. That explains why telephony is practically -dead in most European countries. What little life it has in Europe is -due to the American research in the above-mentioned laboratories. - -The General Electric Company, The Westinghouse Company, the Eastman -Kodak Company, and many other industrial corporations in this country -are supporting similar research and development laboratories, where -scientific men of the highest training are busily exploring what -Helmholtz called the rich territories near the boundary-lines of the -various sciences and of the science forming the foundation of their -respective industries. This reminds me of what I saw on a much smaller -scale in Germany, nearly forty years ago, when I was a student there. -We copied Germany’s good example, but are leading now, and the pace is -so swift that Europeans are dropping behind us very rapidly. The spirit -of scientific research has moved into our universities, and from the -universities it has moved into our industrial organizations. Industrial -research is making bigger and bigger demands upon the universities for -highly trained scientific research men; the demand is larger than the -supply, and because the industries can pay much higher salaries than -the universities can much difficulty has been experienced in inducing -bright and promising young scientists to pursue the academic career of -a teacher. The quality of the scientific teacher in the university is -temporarily deteriorating, that of the industrial research scientist is -steadily rising; on the whole, however, the country is a gainer. The -university man in the industries will transplant there the scientific -idealism of the university. The captains of our leading industries -already admit, as will be pointed out below, that the cultivation of -scientific idealism is the best policy for our American industries. -Listen to the papers which are read by their research men and you will -see that the industries actually practise the new gospel of scientific -idealism which they are preaching. - -But I must not depart too far from the main thread of my story. When -it became known that the American Telephone and Telegraph Company had -acquired the rights to my _high inductance wave conductors_, all kinds -of legends were told about the invention and the fabulous price paid -for it. Newspapers love legends, because the public loves them. The -public is a child which loves to listen to fairy-tales. The only good -that this publicity did was to help me sell my inventions relating to -electrical tuning and rectification in wireless telegraphy. These lay -idle for quite a number of years, and waited for further developments -in the wireless art before they could be employed to advantage. -Electrical tuning and electrical rectification are fundamental -operations in the radio art to-day, but the wireless telegraphy of the -early days is a distant and poor relation of our present radio art. The -world had to wait quite some time for new discoveries which gave birth -to the epoch-making inventions of new men, like Lee De Forest and Major -E. H. Armstrong. It had to wait also for the great industrial research -laboratories before electrical tuning and rectification could come -into their own. In the early days of wireless telegraphy I suggested -several novel developments which might give a fair chance to tuning and -rectification, but I attracted scarcely any attention. The legends just -mentioned made people a little more attentive. - -One morning a man stepped suddenly into my office at Columbia, and -introduced himself as Mr. Green, organizer and promoter of the Marconi -Company of America. He was full of action and looked like business. -“Are your wireless inventions for sale?” asked Mr. Green, without much -preliminary talk. “They are,” I answered, and I felt that my heart -was quivering on account of the unexpected blow which this laconic -question had given it. “How much?” asked Mr. Green. I gave him the -first figure that came into my head, and he, not a bit daunted, asked -whether I would take one-half in cash and one-half in stock. I asked -him twenty-four hours to decide. “All right,” said he, and promised to -call again the next day at the same hour. I should have been perfectly -satisfied to accept the cash offer and close the deal even without -the stock, but I was afraid that any over-anxiety on my part might -scare him away. The next day he called and the deal was closed, he -making a certain cash payment immediately and I agreeing to furnish -certain documents before the final payment was made. I was fairly well -acquainted with trading transactions in my native land; my father often -took me to market-places where he bought and sold cattle and horses. -I remember well the never-ending bartering which very often ended in -a fizzle. The nearer you get to Constantinople the worse becomes the -custom of this Oriental method of trading. Mr. Green had none of that -Orientalism, and his utter indifference to the figures involved in the -deal astonished me. He also took it for granted that I could and would -perform all the fine things which I promised to perform; that was very -flattering to me, but I was too much of an Oriental to accept, without -some apprehension, his apparently implicit trust in me. - -This reminds me of an incident which happened eight years ago. The -Serbian Government cabled me to make a contract for five thousand tons -of lard; I was its only diplomatic and consular representative in -America during the war. I called up the representatives of Swift and -of Armour and told them over the telephone what was wanted, requesting -them to file their bids in forty-eight hours. Two days later I met -them in my office and some Serbian war commissioners happened to be -present. The contract was closed in less than thirty minutes, and when -I told the commissioners that it involved one million dollars they -crossed themselves in utter amazement. In Belgrade, they assured me, -the closing of such a contract would have required at least a month. I -astonished them as much as Mr. Green had astonished me, and the lard -transaction reminded me strongly of my deal with the Marconi Company of -America. Of course, lard handled by Swifts or Armours is a much simpler -proposition than a lot of belated inventions relating to electrical -tuning and electrical rectification for which there was not yet a -crying demand. - -A few months after my deal with Green I was in Berlin, by invitation, -for the purpose of negotiating, for my telephone invention, a business -agreement with the famous electrical firm of Siemens and Halske. It -was founded by Werner von Siemens, whom I had met fifteen years before -through the kind introduction of my teacher, Excellenz von Helmholtz. -During the negotiations which lasted one month I met the directors -of this corporation in almost daily conferences, which lasted never -less than an hour and very often several hours. Every detail of my -invention was thoroughly discussed both from the purely scientific -and from the engineering side, in its relation to the earlier -publications which had a bearing upon it, in its legal aspects as -determined by the German patent laws; and finally the financial side -was carefully considered and definitely settled. There was no bartering -of any kind, neither was anything taken for granted. Contrary to our -American custom, the negotiations were directly between the inventor -and the scientific experts. The lawyers had very little to say, and -spoke only when the experts needed and asked for their opinion. When -I recall my negotiations with the American Telephone and Telegraph -Company, I remember nothing but lawyers. The negotiations with Siemens -and Halske recall scientific experts only; the negotiations with the -Marconi Company of America recall only Green. At the close of the -Berlin conferences and negotiations I was perfectly certain that I -had accomplished something; I understood my invention better than I -had ever understood it before, and I was perfectly certain that the -scientists of Siemens and Halske understood it just as well. Their -popular descriptions of it were better than anything I had ever done -myself. They also gave it a new name, and called telephone conductors -employing the invention “_pupinizierte linien_.” The French followed -suit, and called them “_les lignes pupinizé_.” These two new words -coined in my honor will last as long as the invention lasts, and so -far there is no sign that it will be superseded soon by some other -invention. Its simplicity and effectiveness give it much vitality. - -After the completion of my negotiations in Berlin, the Siemens and -Halske engineers took me to Vienna for the purpose of introducing -me to the high officers in the Austrian Imperial Cabinet who guided -the destinies of the telephone system of the Austrian Empire. They -were glad, they said, to meet a native of Banat, a former subject of -Austria, who had made so important an invention, and they assured me -that their policy with regard to it would be guided entirely by the -decision of the Berlin experts. Vienna did not seem to have a mind of -its own, and all its thinking apparently was done for it by the experts -in Berlin. I was quite elated by the idea that the Berlin experts who -did the thinking for the Austrian Empire had been most happy to spend a -whole month with me in daily conferences, eager to learn all they could -from me. I could not help exclaiming: “Oh, what a fortunate thing it -was that in my early youth I ran away from this moribund Empire, and -landed in a country of opportunities, where every individual thinks -through his own head and carries his load on his own back.” Germany, -at that time, was so vigorous that she did not hesitate to do all the -thinking and hustling for Austria as well as for Turkey, and did not -realize that she was carrying around two corpses which could not be -revived by even the combined vitality of all the young and vigorous -nations, like the United States of America and United Germany. - -Before returning to the United States I visited my sisters in Banat. -One of them was living in Idvor. On a Sunday in August during that -visit I was dining in her garden. There was a high fence around it, -and not far from it the boys and the girls of Idvor were dancing kolo -on the village green and the older people were looking on. Presently -somebody knocked on the garden-gate and my brother-in-law opened it. -There stood a rider, holding with one hand his horse, which was covered -with foam; in the other hand he held a telegram which he had brought -in haste from the telegraph station in another village, about five -miles away from Idvor. My native village had neither a telegraph nor a -telephone line, although I, its son, aspired to connect telephonically -every person in the United States to every other. The telegram in the -rider’s hand was for me, sent by my attorney, telling me that, on the -day before, my final papers had been delivered to the Marconi Company -and that the check for the final payments was in his hands. “Good -news,” I said to myself, and gave the rider a tip of ten florins to -reward him for his haste, evidenced by the white foam on his horse. -The bagpiper and the kolo-dancers stopped when they saw a ten-florin -note in the rider’s hand and heard him brag that he had delivered -to me a telegram from America. The wondering crowd assembled at the -garden-gate, and the older peasants who had gone to school with me in -my boyhood days asked me if the telegram really had come from America. -When I said yes, and that it had been sent on that very morning they -looked at each other and winked, as if signalling to each other to be -on guard lest I fool them with an American yarn. Then the oldest one -among them addressed me as follows: “Did you not tell us that between -here and America there are four empires, each bigger than Austria, and -then the great ocean, which one cannot cross in less than a week even -in the fastest of ships?” “I certainly did say that, and I repeat it -now,” said I. He added: “How can a telegram cross all that distance -in less than a day?” “It could do it in less than a minute if man’s -clumsiness did not delay it. It could travel from here to Vienna in -less than a second,” said I, and carefully watched his expression. -The old man seemed undecided; he did not know whether to take offense -at my attempt to work off a silly yarn on him, or to proceed with his -cross-examination, and finally decided in favor of the latter course. -“Who invented all that?” asked he impatiently. “An American did it,” -said I boastfully. “These Americans must be very clever people,” said -he and waited eagerly for my reply. “Yes, indeed, they are very clever -people,” said I. “Much more clever than anybody in this village?” was -his next question, and when I assured him that the Americans were much -more clever than anybody in Idvor, he fired at me the following shot: -“Then how in the name of St. Michael do you manage to make a living -there?” - -This incident in my native Idvor did me a lot of good. The experts -in Berlin and the high officers in Vienna had been most polite and -complimentary, and all their well-meant adulation coming on the top of -the newspaper legends about my inventions might have turned my head and -made me imagine that I was a “wizard.” Many an inventor and scientist -has been ruined by being persuaded that he is a “wizard.” I have always -believed that when a successful inventor is exposed to dangers of that -kind he should, somewhat like that king of antiquity, hire somebody -to whisper as often as possible into his ear: “You are an ordinary -mortal.” Whenever I see now the Elliot Cresson Gold Medal of the -Franklin Institute, the gold medal of the National Institute of Social -Sciences, the Edison Medal of the American Institute of Electrical -Engineers, the Hebert prize of the French Academy, and several other -evidences of recognition in my possession, I always think of that -professor who blamed his hard luck for his failure to infer from the -loaded strings which hung daily over his head what I had inferred from -La Grange’s imaginary string. It was, I know, a lucky day when on the -14th of July, 1884, I found that second-hand bookshop in the Quartier -Latin in Paris and picked up there a copy of La Grange’s treatise. -Without it, I might have remained as ignorant of the remarkable -properties of a loaded string as that professor was. My answer to the -peasant’s question, “How in the name of St. Michael do you manage to -make a living there?” is this: “The humble herdsman of Idvor and the -famous La Grange of Paris told me how to do it.” - - - - -XII - -THE NATIONAL RESEARCH COUNCIL - - -The mathematical problems in the theory of electrical transmission, and -the research of the behavior of materials employed in the construction -of inductance-coils kept me busy, and made me forget that I was missing -the splendid opportunities offered by New Physics, which I always -represented symbolically by the picture of a vacuum-tube, because its -origin dates from Roentgen’s discovery. My complete recovery from the -shock of 1896 did not reconcile me to the vacuum-tube, until several -years had wiped out the memory which my mind had associated with it. By -that time I had dropped too far behind the men who were leading in the -procession of the revelations which New Physics had disclosed to man. - -No sooner had Perrin, a French physicist, demonstrated that the cathode -rays were negative electricity moving from the negative electrode of -a vacuum-tube to the positive electrode than Professor John Joseph -Thomson, of the University of Cambridge, proved that this negative -electricity is concentrated in small corpuscles, called electrons -to-day, which move with great velocities, and that the ratio of the -electrical charge to the mass of each electron is experimentally -determinable, and is, under ordinary conditions, a definite and -invariable quantity. This learned man, when a youth of only -twenty-five, had predicted in 1881, fourteen years before Roentgen’s -discovery, that the cathode rays were small negatively charged bodies, -moving with great velocities. Assuming them to be spherical, he -calculated, by the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory, the ratio -of their charge to their mass. He showed theoretically that their mass -consisted of two parts, one of which is the ordinary gravitational or -material mass, and the other a new mass which is proportional to the -electrical energy in the electron, and that this mass also depended -upon the velocity of the motion in a definite way. He devised and -employed an experimental method to determine this ratio. The most -remarkable feature of this interrelation between the electromagnetic -mass and the velocity of motion was the fact that when the velocity -approached the velocity of light the mass approached an infinitely -large value. But no such extremes of velocity of motion of the -electrons in a vacuum-tube were found at that time. - -Becquerel, the French physicist, discovered, soon after Roentgen’s -discovery, that certain substances associated with the element uranium -emitted electrons, both negative and positive, without being in a -vacuum-tube and submitted to the action of a great electrical force. -Madame Curie isolated the most active of these substances and called it -_radium_. The action of electron emission discovered by Becquerel was -called radioactivity. Three distinct things, it was found, were emitted -by radium: negative electrons, the so-called beta rays, some of which -were moving with enormous velocities; positive electrons, the so-called -alpha rays, moving with smaller velocities; and, finally, an emission -which had the same physical properties as the X-rays. The beta rays, -some of which move with a velocity nearly equal to the velocity of -light, enabled the physicists to determine experimentally, employing J. -J. Thomson’s method, the relation between the mass of the electron and -its velocity, and lo and behold, it was found that, in all probability, -the negative electron contained no other mass except the mass due -to its electromagnetic energy. In other words, a negative electron -is concentrated electricity and nothing else. Similar experiments -with positive electrons led to similar conclusions. Another most -remarkable result was the revelation of the great difference between -the masses, and, therefore, between the electrical energies residing -in the negative and in the positive electron. The mass of a positive -electron was found to be very nearly equal to the mass of a hydrogen -atom, and the mass of a negative electron was found to be only about -one two-thousandth part of the mass of the positive electron, and this -meant that if the electrons are of spherical shape then the diameter of -the positive electron is only one two-thousandth part of the diameter -of the negative electron, since the energies and therefore the masses -are inversely proportional to the diameters. In other words, there is -in the positive electron a much bigger concentration of electricity -than in the negative and, therefore, much more work was used up to -produce that concentration. Experimental data and calculation gave -for the diameter of a negative electron one ten-thousandth part of -the diameter of the smallest atom, that is, of the hydrogen atom, -and therefore the diameter of the positive electron should be only -one twenty-millionth part of the diameter of a hydrogen atom. A most -bewildering revelation! - -The remarkable results of these historic experiments forced, one may -say, upon the physicist the electromagnetic theory of matter, the -theory, namely, that the ultimate components in the structure of -matter are positive and negative electrons. This theory was vaguely -foreshadowed by Faraday in his poetic visions suggested by his -researches on electrolysis. Needless to say, the physicists in the -United States were thrilled by these revelations, and by the new views -disclosed by them, perhaps even more than by the discoveries of the -X-rays and of radioactivity. The first visible effect of this thrill -was the organization in 1899 of the American Physical Society, a -quarter of a century after Tyndall’s visit to this country. Just think -of it, the great United States had no physical society prior to that -time! - -It is an interesting fact that two of the most important American -organizations in abstract science were started at Columbia College. -The first was the American Mathematical Society. In 1888, two -young instructors at Columbia College, Fiske and Jacoby, started a -mathematical club. To-day the first is a professor of mathematics, and -the second is a professor of astronomy at Columbia University. I joined -them in 1889, as soon as I had returned to Columbia. We transformed the -mathematical club into the New York Mathematical Society, and elected -for president the famous Columbia don, the late Howard Van Amringe, -for many years senior professor of mathematics at Columbia College. -Doctor Fiske was its secretary; no young and struggling scientific -organization ever had a better secretary. The society prospered, and -in 1894 it was transformed into the American Mathematical Society, -counting among its members most of the distinguished mathematicians -of the land. I am certainly very proud that I am one of its charter -members. - -In 1899 several Columbia physicists, including myself, and their -friends from Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Cornell, Clark, -and other places, met at Columbia and organized the American Physical -Society. The late Professor Rowland, of Johns Hopkins, was elected its -president, and one of its most distinguished members was Professor -Ernest Rutherford, of McGill University, Montreal. He is now Sir Ernest -Rutherford, the Cavendish professor of physics at the University of -Cambridge, occupying the professorial chair once occupied by Maxwell, -then by Rayleigh, and then by Thomson, now Sir John Joseph Thomson, -master of Trinity College, Cambridge. Their names I have mentioned -often in the course of this narrative. It was most unfortunate for -the progress of American physics that because of his failing health -Rowland’s wonderful influence in the society was of short duration. He -died in April, 1901, while still a young man. Rutherford’s wonderful -discoveries in radioactivity were reported regularly by himself at -the meetings of the society, and I often thought that these reports -alone, even without the many other good things which came along, amply -justified the existence of the society. When I compare the American -Physical Society of twenty years ago with the American Physical Society -of to-day I can scarcely believe that so much progress has been -possible in so short a time. I recognize, however, that this remarkable -growth is clue not only to the energy of youth of this country but also -to the energy of youth of New Physics, which I call Electron Physics. - -In October, 1899, Rowland delivered his presidential address before -the society at whose head he stood. I can see now how happy he looked -on that memorable occasion. Inspired by the latest revelations in -Electron Physics, he prophesied what new revelations the physicists -should expect in the approaching future. After describing physics as -“a science above all sciences, which deals with the foundation of the -universe, with the constitution of matter from which everything in -the universe is made, and with the ether of space by which alone the -various portions of matter forming the universe affect each other ...” -he stated frankly that the physicists of America “form an aristocracy, -not of wealth, not of pedigree, but of intellect and ideals.... Let us -cultivate the idea of the dignity of our pursuit so that this feeling -may sustain us in the midst of a world which gives its highest praise, -not to the investigator in the pure ethereal physics which our society -is formed to cultivate, but to the one who uses it for satisfying the -physical rather than the intellectual needs of mankind.” He then -pleaded that we “recognize the eras when great thoughts have been -introduced into our subject and honor the great men who introduced -them and proved them correct.” Then, enumerating the great problems of -the physical universe, he asked: “What is matter; what is gravitation; -what is ether and radiation; what is electricity and magnetism; how are -these connected together, and what is their relation to heat?” Now, -these are the very questions which Electron Physics has been trying to -answer since that time; and this is the idealism which the American -physicist has had before him ever since the days of Rowland. - -Electromagnetic theory of matter was the first answer to Rowland’s -question: What is matter? But how about the answer to his second -question: What is gravitation? If matter contains nothing but -electrons, if they are really the most fundamental building stones -of matter, then electricity as concentrated and stored up in the -electrons can exert in addition to the well-known electrical force also -a gravitational force. A somewhat novel idea, but ... why not, and why -so? Einstein gives the best answer to this. - -To Rowland’s question: What is Ether? Electron Physics gave a puzzling -answer, but the puzzle has led us into a side path of surpassing -beauty. Our famous physicists, Michelson and Morley, are a combination -of two names better known in the world of physical science to-day -than Castor and Pollux were known when Zeus, descending from the -heights of Mount Olympus, sought the companionship of mortal men. The -fame of the twins, Michelson and Morley, not, however, of Michelson -alone, rests upon an experimental demonstration, the importance of -which was not until recently fully appreciated, the demonstration, -namely, that there is no ether drift; that is to say, so far as -man can tell, there is no relative motion between the earth moving -through space and the ether which is supposed to fill all interstellar -space. On the other hand, the hypothesis that the ether moves with -the moving earth leads to insurmountable difficulties. This was, -indeed, a most embarrassing situation! Since Michelson originally, -and, later, Michelson and Morley, employed the radiation of light -in their attempts to detect the ether drift, it became necessary to -re-examine the electromagnetic theory of propagation of light for the -case that light, as in the Michelson and Morley experiment, proceeds -from a source which together with the observer is moving through -space. The famous Professor Lorentz, of Leyden, Holland, whom I have -the honor of knowing personally, made the first successful extension -of this theory, and explained satisfactorily Michelson and Morley’s -result. But the extension was obtained by what was acknowledged to be -a clever notion, and not by an unavoidable physical fact. The same -extension of the theory was obtained by Einstein, but it was founded -upon a broad physical principle which Lorentz’s extension lacked. -Lorentz preferred Einstein’s deduction of his extension, called the -Lorentz transformation. The physical principle just referred to is -now popularly known as the Special Relativity Theory, which Einstein -extended later into the General Relativity Theory. Einstein’s theory -explains very simply the Michelson-Morley experiment, but how does it -answer Rowland’s question: What is Ether? Also very simply by saying -that ether is superfluous in our analysis of physical phenomena. -Faraday expressed a similar view nearly eighty years ago. That, -however, which is essential in this narrative in connection with -Einstein’s relativity theory is the great fact that by it a general -demonstration is furnished that all forms of electrical energy are -a mass which has _inertial as well as gravitational_ activity. In -the electromagnetic theory of matter this demonstration plays a most -important part. One of the schemes of this theory is so simple and -so beautiful, and appeals so strongly even to an imagination not -scientifically trained, that I must tell here very briefly some of its -most striking features. - -All atoms are built up from a single atom, the atom of hydrogen, -which consists of a positive electron or proton, the nucleus, and a -single negative electron revolving around it like a satellite around -the central planet. A heavier atom, say an atom of oxygen, consists -of sixteen atoms of hydrogen, the positive nuclei of which form the -positive nucleus or central portion of the oxygen atom. Some of the -negative electrons are distributed among the positive electrons of -the central nucleus, serving to cement them together, and the other -negative electrons are revolving like satellites around the central -nucleus. The number of these satellites is the atomic number of -the atom, and it is this number, and not the atomic weight, which -determines the chemical characteristics of the atoms. This is only -a mere glance into the structure of Electron Physics, made here for -the purpose of pointing out some of the never-dreamt-of possibilities -that Electron Physics holds in view. For instance, four atoms of -hydrogen combining into an atom of helium give off a certain amount -of energy. We say the atoms of hydrogen degrade into the heavier atom -of helium and, thereby, a certain amount of energy is liberated. A -helium atom weighs less than four atoms of hydrogen, because of the -diminished energy per atom of hydrogen, the decrement of the weight -being proportional to the decrement of energy. This is demanded by -Einstein’s theory, which is really an extension of the theory first -proposed by Sir John Joseph Thomson, and it is a remarkable fact that -these weight relations satisfy the prophecy of the theory. The amount -of energy obtained by the degradation of the lighter into heavier atoms -is enormous. But we do not know how to produce the process of this -degradation. The question arises: Do not the young stars, the very hot -stars, which always consist of gases of small atomic weight, obtain a -supply of radiant energy from the degradation of atoms of small into -atoms of high atomic weight, and, if this is so, then why shall we -not some day learn this great secret from the stars? The language of -the stars has many deep secrets to tell; it mystifies me just as much -to-day as it did on the pasturelands of my native village fifty years -ago. - -Many other most startling contemplations may be connected with the -new views opened up by Electron Physics, all of them illustrating the -beauty, the wealth, and the power of a new science which represents the -marriage of two great sciences, physics and chemistry. - -Industrial science is very much impressed by new discoveries -which, as Rowland expressed it, “deal with the foundation of the -universe,” but which in spite of their revolutionary character are -easily understood by the practical man. Electron Physics abounds in -discoveries of that kind, and it seems that they have rushed upon -us like a cloud-burst. Things have been done that formerly seemed -impossible. Take, for an illustration, a thing which is so familiar -to all, the complete transformation of wireless telegraphy into the -new art which is called Radio. A vacuum-tube with a hot filament -fills up with negative electrons, which are thrown off by the hot -filament. The filament may be said to be radioactive. A current can -be established by applying an electromotive force which drives these -negative electrons from the space surrounding the hot filament to -a positive electrode. Here we have a new type of Crookes’s tube, -operated by a small electrical tension, and not by that of a powerful -induction-coil, which is necessary when the negative electrode is cold. -This current is called the thermionic current, and its value can be -varied in any way we please by a second electrical force which acts -through a third electrode, called the grid, placed in the path of -the thermionic current. This is the so-called audion tube, invented -by a Yale graduate, Doctor Lee De Forest. In the hands of the Western -Electric Company and of the General Electric Company, this tube has -transformed the whole radio art by its amplifying power. My old -inventions of electrical tuning and rectification have been raised to -unexpected powers by the action of these tubes, and the inventions of -my former pupil and research associate, Major E. H. Armstrong, and of -others, have given us the broadcasting art, which surpasses the wildest -expectations of even the rosiest of optimists of a few years ago. -Wherever Electron Physics has entered there have sprung up new crops -of the rarest fruit, and it is no wonder that there are to-day so many -workers in the newly discovered fertile fields of the electromagnetic -theory. Attend any meeting of the American Physical Society and you -will be convinced that the research in the university laboratories as -well as in the research laboratories of our industries would satisfy -even the highest expectations of the men who fifty years ago, under the -leadership of Joseph Henry, started the movement in favor of higher -scientific research. The university and the industrial laboratories -are mindful of Rowland’s admonition: “In choosing subjects for our -investigation, let us, if possible, work upon those subjects which -will finally give us advanced knowledge of some great subject.” What -subject can be greater than eternal truth, and that aim, according to -my definition, is idealism in science. - -It is very true that our American scientific research activities in -physics and chemistry are so alive to-day because they have been -greatly stimulated by the wonderful advances, through electron physics, -in the electromagnetic theory, and in its very successful applications -to technical and industrial problems. But it is also true that the -scientific research activities in other branches, like biology, which -are not closely connected with the electromagnetic theory and its -applications, have also blossomed up with wonderful rapidity during the -last twenty-five years. It will be conceded, I think, that all these -activities in abstract science are to a very substantial extent due to -the rapid rise of the American university and to its splendid influence -upon the mentality of our industries. But in this democratic country, -covering a vast area, each State has the privilege of regulating in its -own way its own educational programme and policy, and each privately -endowed university can pursue its own ideals in its own way without -worrying very much about any other university. Lack of unity and -uniformity was, therefore, always felt, and there was always a strong -although often an unconscious desire in the hearts of scientific men -to bring about a uniformity in the aims and aspirations of higher -scientific research in our universities. The American Association for -the Advancement of Science made quite a number of efforts in this -direction, but the progress was slow. The great World War forced us to -make another big effort in this direction, and this time the effort -succeeded beyond all expectations. The following story of this big -effort is, I am sure, of national importance, and should be known by -every intelligent person in the United States. - -Just as the cultivation of science in the United States was first taken -up in the technical schools, like the School of Mines of Columbia -College, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and many others, -and not in colleges or universities, so the organization of scientific -associations took place first among the engineers, the graduates -of the technical schools. The American Society of Civil Engineers, -the American Institute of Mining and Metallurgical Engineers, the -American Society of Mechanical Engineers, and the American Institute of -Electrical Engineers, for instance, were organized some time before -most of the present associations in abstract science, that is in -mathematics, physics, chemistry, and biology were organized. Even the -youngest among the leading engineering societies, that is, the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers, was organized in the early eighties, -whereas the American Physical Society was organized nearly twenty years -later, in 1899. - -The organization of these technical societies did not wait for the -arrival of the American university. But, nevertheless, when the -American university arrived, and with it the research laboratories -in the fundamental sciences, it improved the quality of the American -engineer, and of the American engineering societies, just as it -improved the scientific standards of the American industrial -organizations. The National Academy of Sciences deserves here a special -consideration. It is an association of workers in _abstract science_, -principally, but, contrary to what I have just said, it is, like the -American Philosophical Society, founded by Franklin, older than any -of our national engineering societies. Its early birth was due to the -conditions created by the Civil War. Joseph Henry, I imagine, suggested -to President Lincoln that a mobilization of the scientific resources -of the North would improve greatly its military strength, and thus the -National Academy of Sciences was chartered by Congress during the Civil -War, in 1863, and was approved by President Lincoln. It was a creation -of the Civil War, and is in many respects an institution which forms a -part of the Federal Government. I shall describe now how the National -Academy of Sciences, itself a creation of the Federal Government during -the Civil War, gave birth during the World War to another national -scientific institution which is the climax of the great scientific -movement started fifty years ago. I have watched this movement almost -from its very beginning up to the present time; yes, I have been a part -of it during its most active period, and I believe that I understand -its full meaning. - -The four leading engineering societies, mentioned above, were in quite -a flourishing condition at the beginning of this century; flourishing -not only with regard to the number, but also with regard to the -quality of their membership, and their progress was speeding on with -remarkable rapidity. For instance, the papers read before the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers in 1900, and the discussions which -followed them, were immeasurably superior to those read in 1890, -when I first became a member of this Institute, because the quality -of its membership was also immeasurably superior. The great American -industries paid much more respectful attention to these engineering -societies than when I first came to Columbia College in 1889. The -greatest among the American captains of industry of those days, the -late Andrew Carnegie, held them in so high an esteem that he presented -a magnificent gift to them which led to the formation of the United -Engineering Society. This happened in 1904, and marks one of the great -events in the history of American technical science. - -It is of considerable historical interest to observe here that -Carnegie’s magnificent gift to these national engineering societies -is closely connected with a very modest move made by the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers, nearly thirty years ago. The late -Doctor Schuyler Skaats Wheeler, at one time president of the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers, had purchased the famous electrical -library of the late Latimer Clark, of London, and had presented it -to the Institute. But the Institute had no building of its own, and, -therefore, no place for housing permanently this unique library. -Several of the members of the Institute, including myself, were looking -around anxiously for some practical scheme which would provide the -Institute with a home of its own, where the Latimer Clark library -could be permanently located. It was obvious that Andrew Carnegie, -who was always interested in libraries, should be selected as our -first point of application. We never had to appeal to anybody else; -Mr. Carnegie was most generous. The engineering societies appealed -to his lively imagination. It was the engineer who assisted him in -the development of the great steel industry, and it was the engineer -upon whom he relied to maintain the American steel industry in the -leading position which it had won, in a great measure, by Carnegie’s -initiative and efforts. He had already paid a splendid tribute to -science for the service it had rendered to him when he created and -richly endowed the Carnegie Institution of Washington, which was to -provide and does provide ample facilities to American genius in its -efforts to solve some of the great problems in science. I mention here -as an illustration the endowment of the Mount Wilson Astrophysical -Observatory at Pasadena, California, an act which has borne magnificent -fruit under Professor George Ellery Hale’s direction. Instead of -giving to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers a building -for a library, Mr. Carnegie presented to the four national engineering -societies a building for their permanent home, with suitable -accommodations for a great library, for administrative offices, for -conference and meeting rooms, for lecture-rooms, and for a great -assembly hall. One of the objects of the United Engineering Society -was, according to its charter, to hold and administer this princely -gift “for the purpose of advancing the engineering arts and sciences -in all their branches and for maintaining a free public engineering -library.” The famous Latimer Clark electrical library is now a part of -this great engineering library. The four national societies represented -by the United Engineering Society have a carefully picked membership -of over fifty thousand, and the magnificence of their home on -Thirty-ninth Street, near Fifth Avenue, New York, is fully justified -by their great prestige. I never look upon this beautiful structure -without being thrilled by the thought that the treasures it contains in -the form of organized scientific achievement and brains are among the -greatest of the many rich assets of this nation. - -Sixteen years ago, Mr. Carnegie and myself represented the American -Philosophical Society at the memorial service for the late Lord Kelvin, -the famous scientist. It was held in the great hall of the Engineering -Building. As we sat on the platform, waiting for the commencement of -the ceremony, I scanned the beautiful proportions of the great hall, -and they appeared to me more beautiful than ever. “You must feel -very happy when you look at this splendid gift which you made to the -Engineering Society,” said I to Mr. Carnegie, who sat on my right. “I -do, yes indeed I do, and I hope that some day you may experience the -same feeling of happiness which comes from giving,” responded the great -ironmaster. “Perhaps I will,” said I, “but remember that I am a Serb, -and not a Scot: it takes a Scot to understand and to practise the art -of giving.” “But it also takes a Scot to understand and to practise the -art of taking,” said Mr. Carnegie, and his vigorous eyes sparkled with -the light of good-natured humor. - -Another event occurred in the history of the four founder societies -which will always mark the beginning of a new epoch in American -science. Another captain of American industry extended a generous hand -to the United Engineering Society, offering to aid it in its work of -“advancing the engineering arts and sciences in all their branches.” -It is very significant that this second generous captain of industry -was in many respects a striking contrast to the first, the late Andrew -Carnegie. I am speaking now of Ambrose Swasey of Cleveland, Ohio. He, -like Carnegie, started his industrial career with very small training -in technical sciences. What he knew about engineering and manufacturing -he had obtained by practical experience. Ambrose Swasey is a splendid -illustration of a disciplined intellect trained by the training of his -hand. I have always believed that the most striking difference between -the American and the European is due to the fact that the American -in his early youth receives a much better manual training than the -European does, and that this accounts for the American directness -of thought, judgment, and action. I never saw a better illustration -of this theory than Mr. Ambrose Swasey. He began his career as a -machinist, and when a little over thirty years of age he and a friend -of his, Mr. Warner, another young machinist, started a manufacturing -plant of their own, making fine machine-tools and astronomical -instruments of precision. The shops of Warner and Swasey became famous -all over the world for their wonderful workmanship. - -The American manufacturer has achieved great things in mass production. -This was Mr. Carnegie’s strong point; but Mr. Swasey did not belong to -that type of American manufacturer. His aim was few products but each -one of them as perfect as careful manipulation, personal attention -guided by superior intelligence, and inventive ingenuity, could -make it. Most of the telescope mountings of the great astronomical -observatories in this country were made in Mr. Swasey’s Cleveland -shops. His shop experience made him an engineer of a very high order, -so high indeed, that the American Society of Mechanical Engineers -elected him president, and, later, honorary member. The charter of the -United Engineering Society speaks of “advancing the engineering arts -and sciences in all their branches,” but there was no other visible -instrumentality for doing that work than the free engineering library. -Ambrose Swasey proposed to correct this deficiency when, in 1914, -he offered to the United Engineering Society a gift of two hundred -thousand dollars as a nucleus for an endowment the income of which was -to be used for “the furtherance of research in science and engineering, -or for the advancement in any other manner of the profession of -engineering and the good of mankind.” These words, dictated by an -American captain of industry, bear witness to the fact that there is -much idealism in American industry. The United Engineering Society -accepted Mr. Swasey’s gift, and established the Engineering Foundation, -which was managed by its own board, the Foundation Board, nominated -by the four founder societies. Its members acted as trustees of -Mr. Swasey’s gift and of any other gift that might be given to the -Engineering Foundation to serve a purpose similar to that of Mr. -Swasey’s gift. This Foundation became an instrumentality of the United -Engineering Society for the stimulation, direction, and support of -scientific research. It became, furthermore, the liaison agency between -the engineers on the one hand and the technologists and scientists on -the other hand, in activities concerned with research in all branches -of mathematical, physical, and biological sciences. In other words, -one of the great captains of American industry, Andrew Carnegie, was -instrumental in bringing the great national engineering societies -together into the United Engineering Society, and another great captain -of American industry, Ambrose Swasey, invented and by his generosity -constructed an instrumentality, the Engineering Foundation, which he -put into the hands of the United Engineering Society for the purpose -of enabling it to do the work which its charter demands, “advancing -the engineering arts and sciences in all their branches.” I never -think of these two generous acts on the part of Mr. Carnegie and of -Mr. Swasey, without being reminded that these two great organizers of -American industry were guided by the same motives of idealism which had -guided the great men of the revolutionary times when they organized -the United States. Read the charters of the Carnegie Institution, of -the Engineering Society, and of the Engineering Foundation, and you -will find that no trace of materialism can be found in the proposed -scientific activities of these institutions founded by two men who made -material things but never lost touch with the spiritual world which -gave direction and discipline to all their acts. - -The Engineering Foundation became an operating instrumentality in -April, 1915, and in a year from that time it was called upon to engage -in a scientific enterprise which, in my opinion, has proved to be of -the very greatest national importance. In April, 1916, it appeared that -we were to become involved in the World War on account of the sinking -of the _Sussex_ by German submarines. The charter of the National -Academy of Sciences, passed by Congress and approved by President -Lincoln in 1863, provides that “the Academy shall, whenever called upon -by any department of the Government, investigate, examine, experiment, -and report upon any subject of science and art.” The early records -indicate that during its very earliest days the National Academy of -Sciences, under the leadership of Joseph Henry, and while the Civil War -was still going on, dealt actively with scientific research relating to -military and naval problems. It was, therefore, perfectly natural that, -in view of the threatening crisis, the National Academy of Sciences -should, in April, 1916, offer its services to the President of the -United States, who accepted them and requested the Academy to organize -the scientific and technical resources of the country in the broadest -and most effective manner. This is how the _National Research Council_ -was born. It is the offspring of the National Academy of Sciences. -The mother was born during the Civil War, and the offspring was born -during the World War. Blessed be the country which even in times of war -creates institutions the highest aim of which is to cultivate the arts -of peace! - -The members of the National Academy of Sciences are elected on account -of distinguished services to science, and not on account of their -cleverness as administrators or organizers. The National Research -Council was to be organized for the purpose of “stimulating research -in mathematical, physical, and biological sciences, and in the -application of these sciences to engineering, agriculture, medicine, -and other useful arts, with the object of increasing knowledge, of -strengthening the national defense, and of contributing in other ways -to the public welfare.” The words just quoted are taken from President -Wilson’s executive order, and describe a splendid conception. But from -conception to reduction to practice is a long pull, requiring efforts -along most practical lines of endeavor in which scientific men as a -rule do not excel. But it was very fortunate for the National Academy -of Sciences and for the people of the United States that among the -scientists of the Academy there was one man who had always displayed -just as remarkable a genius for organization as he had for original -scientific research; I mean Professor George Ellery Hale, director of -the Mount Wilson Observatory. Several other members of the Academy, -including myself, did our best to aid him in the task of reducing to -practice many of his ideas relating to the National Research Council. -There was, fortunately, one thing which greatly assisted our earliest -and most difficult efforts in behalf of this national movement; it was -the existence of the Engineering Foundation. - -My former pupil, Gano Dunn, was in 1916 the chairman of the Engineering -Foundation, and I was one of the two vice-chairmen. It did not cost -me much effort to persuade Dunn that one of the biggest tasks which -the Engineering Foundation could take up was to grubstake the -National Research Council during its formative period. The Board of -the Foundation accepted enthusiastically this suggestion, recommended -by Mr. Dunn and myself, and from September 1916 to September 1917 -the administrative organization as well as the total income of the -Foundation was devoted to the organizing work of the National Research -Council. I am very proud that during a part of that period I was the -chairman of the Engineering Foundation, succeeding Mr. Dunn, and had -splendid opportunities to aid Professor Hale and his committees in -the historic work of organizing the National Research Council. Mr. -Swasey was very happy in this national work of the Foundation, and he -added to its income for that year a sum of five thousand dollars as -additional aid for its great undertaking. At the expiration of that -year, the National Research Council did not need any further financial -assistance from the Engineering Foundation, but the co-operation -started in 1916 between the two national bodies continued and produced -splendid results; so much so that in 1918, during my term of office -as chairman of the Foundation, Mr. Swasey added one hundred thousand -dollars to his original gift, and in 1920 two hundred thousand dollars -more, and the Engineering Foundation became the guiding and controlling -factor in the activities of the engineering division of the National -Research Council. Mr. Swasey always hoped that others would follow -his example and by their generous contribution increase the income of -the Engineering Foundation to what it should be. This institution, as -the directing instrument of the engineering division of the National -Research Council, could, with an adequate annual income, say one -hundred thousand dollars or more, do a world of good in the research -of our great national engineering problems. I trust that Mr. Swasey’s -hopes will not meet with disappointment, because his hopes are based -upon his accurate estimate of what the engineering profession needs. -An estimate supported by the judgment and vision of a Swasey, and by -his generous financial efforts, should receive the most respectful -attention and warmest sympathy of our public-spirited men. - -It goes without saying that during the World War the National Research -Council was organized mainly with a view to aiding the government in -the pursuit of the war, and for that purpose it was closely associated -with the government’s scientific bureaus, and with the technical -department of the Army and Navy. This arrangement is referred to, and -receives the highest official sanction, in the executive order issued -by President Wilson, which I quote now in full: - - EXECUTIVE ORDER ISSUED BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES - - The National Research Council was organized in 1916 at the request - of the President by the National Academy of Sciences, under its - Congressional charter, as a measure of national preparedness. The - work accomplished by the Council in organizing research and in - securing co-operation of military and civilian agencies in the - solution of military problems demonstrates its capacity for larger - service. The National Academy of Sciences is therefore requested to - perpetuate the National Research Council, the duties of which shall - be as follows: - - 1. In general, to stimulate research in the mathematical, physical, - and biological sciences, and in the application of these sciences - to engineering, agriculture, medicine, and other useful arts, with - the object of increasing knowledge, of strengthening the national - defense, and of contributing in other ways to the public welfare. - - 2. To survey the larger possibilities of science, to formulate - comprehensive projects of research, and to develop effective means - of utilizing the scientific and technical resources of the country - for dealing with these projects. - - 3. To promote co-operation in research, at home and abroad, in - order to secure concentration of effort, minimize duplication, and - stimulate progress; but in all co-operative undertakings to give - encouragement to individual initiative, as fundamentally important - to the advancement of science. - - 4. To serve as a means of bringing American and foreign - investigators into active co-operation with the scientific and - technical services of the War and Navy Departments and with those - of the civil branches of the Government. - - 5. To direct the attention of scientific and technical - investigators to the present importance of military and industrial - problems in connection with the war, and to aid in the solution of - these problems by organizing specific researches. - - 6. To gather and collate scientific and technical information - at home and abroad, in co-operation with governmental and other - agencies and to render such information available to duly - accredited persons. - - Effective prosecution of the Council’s work requires the cordial - collaboration of the scientific and technical branches of the - Government, both military and civil. To this end representatives - of the Government, upon the nomination of the National Academy - of Sciences, will be designated by the President as members of - the Council, as heretofore, and the heads of the departments - immediately concerned will continue to co-operate in every way that - may be required. - - (Signed) WOODROW WILSON. - The White House, May 11, 1918. - -During the World War the National Research Council was only partly -supported by the government, although it did exclusively government -work. After the war, however, the activities of the National Research -Council were reorganized without departing from the spirit of the -President’s executive order, and its support was derived from private -sources only. Its organization can be described broadly as follows: - -It consists of two groups of divisions; one group comprises seven -divisions of science and technology, representing, respectively, -physics, mathematics, and astronomy; chemistry and chemical technology; -biology and agriculture; the medical sciences; psychology and -anthropology; geology and geography; and, finally, one of the largest -and most important of its divisions, the division of engineering. The -other group comprises six divisions of general relations, representing -foreign relations, government relations, state relations, educational -relations, research extension, and research information. In this -scheme of organization the National Research Council enjoys the active -co-operation of about seventy-five major scientific and technical -societies of the country. It is, therefore, national in its character. -It promises to become one of the most precious assets of this nation, -and the nation should know much more about it than it does. - -The splendid work done by the Council even during the first two years -of its history attracted much attention from the best men in the -country, with the result that the trustees of the Carnegie Corporation -of New York made a gift of five million dollars to the Council. -A part of this, a little over one-quarter, was to be spent on an -administrative building, the future home of the Academy and of its -offspring, the National Research Council. The remainder was to be a -permanent foundation from the income of which the administrative work -of the Council was to be and is now being supported. - -The Rockefeller Foundation and the Rockefeller General Education Board -gave the Council one million dollars for the maintenance, during -five years, of research fellowships in physics and chemistry, and in -medicine. Other gifts came from philanthropic organizations, individual -concerns, and individuals, for the support of special scientific -projects, and more than a score of individuals interested in the -promotion of science contributed two hundred thousand dollars for the -purchase of land in Washington on which the administration building of -the Academy and Council has been under construction during the last two -years. - -[Illustration: DR. GEORGE ELLERY HALE - - Honorary Chairman of the National Research Council] - -Facing the Mall near the Lincoln memorial in Washington stands to-day, -nearly completed, the administrative palace of the National Academy -of Sciences and of its offspring, the National Research Council. The -classical simplicity of its design and its snowy marble make it -appear at a distance like a Grecian temple. It will always invite the -visitor to the nation’s capital to its peaceful precincts, whence -one can get the impressive view of the beautiful monument to great -Lincoln and of the Arlington heights on the distant bank of the Potomac -River. When Lincoln and those buried on these sacred heights died, the -National Academy of Sciences was born. The lives of these dead heroes -of sixty years ago, as well as the life of the institution born then -and living to-day, will always remind us that national defense is a -stern reality and the most sacred of our patriotic duties. National -defense is and always should be the uppermost idea in the history of -the National Research Council, but national defense in its broadest -sense, that is, defense by powder and sword and scientific invention -when a brutal enemy attacks us, and by the stored-up accomplishments of -scientifically trained intellects and disciplined spirits whenever this -nation engages in peaceful competitions with other nations. - -[Illustration: THE NATIONAL RESEARCH COUNCIL BUILDING, -WASHINGTON, D. C. - - From a preliminary sketch by the architect, - Bertram G. Goodhue] - -The rapid rise of the Council into public favor is due principally to -its wise programme and to the standing of the men and of the scientific -organizations engaged in the carrying out of that programme, the -fundamental feature of which is “to promote scientific research and the -application and dissemination of scientific knowledge for the benefit -of our national strength and well-being.” This expression, often heard -within the ranks of the National Research Council, always reminds me of -the following words in Washington’s Farewell Address: - - Promote, then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for - the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure - of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that - public opinion should be enlightened. - -In no branch of human activity does public opinion need enlightenment -so much as it does in the fundamentals of science, and in their -relation to technical arts. One weak point in every democracy, -particularly when poorly understood and practised, is the belief among -those who control political patronage that any man can do any job as -well as any other man. The scientific man believes that a man must be -trained for the job; hence his profound respect for the expert. Nothing -in his opinion will advance our national strength and well-being so -much as the ability of enlightened public opinion to differentiate -between the expert and the clumsy product of political patronage. A -motto of the Allies in the World War was: make the world safe for -democracy. But those who are to-day associated in the National Research -Council believe that it is even more important to “make democracy safe -for the world” by the dissemination of scientific knowledge for the -benefit of national strength and well-being. Many of us believe that -this is the most important part of the national defense, to which the -Council will always be pledged. - -The National Research Council is not an organization which operates -scientific laboratories; it confines its attention to the stimulation -of co-operation between scientific workers, where such co-operation -is necessary. This is not the place to discuss in detail all the -aims and aspirations of the National Research Council and of the -instrumentalities which it has created in order to reach these aims. -A survey, even a brief one, of the work of the divisions belonging -to the two groups of the National Research Council will give some -idea of these aims. There are, however, two great aims which should -be mentioned here, which have been well expressed by Doctor Vernon -Kellogg, Permanent Secretary of the Council and chairman of its -division on Educational Relations. He describes one of them as follows: -“It [the National Research Council] will try constantly to encourage -the interest of universities and colleges in research and in the -training of research workers, so that the inspiration and fitting of -American youth for scientific work may never fall so low as to threaten -to interrupt the constantly needed output of well-trained and devoted -scientific talent in the land.” The other principal aim he describes in -the following significant words: “Still another [assistance to science] -is the stimulation of larger industrial organizations, which may be -in the situation to maintain their own independent laboratories, to -see the advantage of contributing to the support of pure science in -the universities and research institutes, for the sake of increasing -the scientific knowledge and scientific personnel upon which future -progress in applied science absolutely depends.” - -The appeal of the National Research Council to the American -universities and colleges in behalf of scientific research will not -be like a voice in the wilderness. There never was so much enthusiasm -for scientific research in the American colleges and universities as -there is to-day. This enthusiasm will continually increase as time -goes on, because many of the scientific workers in these institutions -are gradually catching that enthusiasm during their term of office as -members of the divisions of the National Research Council. Before very -long most of these workers will have served as such members, because -the election to membership is for a short term only, so that every -scientist in the land who wishes to serve will get a chance to serve, -and in this manner will become familiar with the aims and aspirations -of the National Research Council. This rotational term of membership -in the divisions of the Council is a splendid method of carrying on -the educational propaganda, particularly among the younger scientists -of the United States. Before very long the scientists associated by -service in the Council will be like the soldiers of a great army of -volunteers, each one of them believing in and ready to struggle for -the same ideals, and all of them controlled by the same _esprit de -corps_, which the world will soon recognize as the _esprit de corps_ of -American science. - -With regard to the Council’s second principal aim, described so -well by Doctor Kellogg, I am happy to make the following comment: A -distinguished lawyer, chairman of the board of directors of a large -industrial corporation, which maintains a splendid industrial research -laboratory, said in my presence recently that he thought every -successful and prosperous industrial organization should set aside a -goodly portion of its profits from new developments, made possible by -scientific research, and turn it over to the universities, to enable -them to pay better salaries to their professors and instructors in -science and to increase their research facilities. He confessed frankly -that the training in scientific research in the universities is the -fountainhead from which success is derived in industrial research -and development, and that without industrial research American -industries will not gain and hold the leading position in the world -to which they may rightfully aspire. What a splendid thing it is to -hear a lawyer express an opinion which is in perfect harmony with the -opinion of every scientific man in the United States! It has been -this mental attitude on the part of the American philanthropists and -public-spirited captains of industry like Carnegie, Rockefeller, -Swasey, Eastman, and others which has helped us to accomplish wonders -in scientific advancement during the last twenty-five years. It has -been men of this type who have built research laboratories in the -American universities and endowed them generously. - -Of the many physical laboratories which have arisen in American -universities through private munificence since the time when, fifty -years ago, Joseph Henry, Barnard, Draper, Andrew White, and other -American scientists started the great movement for higher research -in science, there may be mentioned, as an illustration, the Johns -Hopkins physical laboratory, the Jefferson laboratory at Harvard, the -Sloan laboratory at Yale, the Fayerweather laboratory at Columbia, or -the Ryerson laboratory at the University of Chicago. Similar research -facilities in other departments of physical science have been presented -to American universities by the public-spirited men of the United -States. But nothing has illustrated so well the possibilities of -intelligent public interest in and generosity to science as the rapid -rise of organized American science in the last twenty-five years, -culminating in the organization of the National Research Council. - -To an untrained eye, necessarily looking at scientific things from a -superficial view-point, the National Research Council will appear as a -splendid institution organized as our third arm of national defense, -an indispensable supplement to the Army and Navy. This conception -is perfectly natural, because the time and the conditions which -called the Council into existence during the World War were such as -to demand immediate scientific efforts for national defense. Other -somewhat similar organized efforts were made at that time, but those -organizations disappeared into thin air as soon as the armistice of -1918 was signed. The National Research Council did not disappear; it -is stronger to-day than ever before, because, although designed to be -an effective weapon in times of war, it is fundamentally an instrument -of peace. Another superficial view will reveal the National Research -Council as a splendid organization for the cultivation of an intimate -relationship between abstract science and the industries. This also is -as it should be; national defense in its broadest sense demands such -co-operation. But both these aspects of the Council, prominent aspects -to the superficial observer, reveal only the purely material gains -to accrue to this country from the Council’s activities. The anxious -question will therefore be: What contributions will this organized -scientific activity make to the spiritual welfare of the country? - -There are people who think that science with all its splendid -achievements is nevertheless materialistic, and that it cannot by -itself, no matter how well organized, advance the spiritual welfare of -a nation. Some even go so far as to maintain that national endeavors in -the direction of very extensive scientific research and very elaborate -scientific training are apt to interfere seriously with the spiritual -development of our national life. This is particularly true of people -who are stirred up, from time to time, by imaginary conflicts between -science and religion. I may be permitted here to state briefly how -science, as I see it cultivated by the men who are associated in the -National Research Council, will contribute to the spiritual welfare of -our nation by describing briefly some of its ideals. - -Fifty years ago Tyndall, as I have already mentioned, came to America -and helped to start the great scientific movement which has culminated -in the organization of the National Research Council. At that time -Andrew White, the famous president of Cornell, spoke the following -historic words in behalf of this historic movement, which I have been -watching since its very beginning, and actively aiding whenever an -opportunity presented itself: - - Now, sir, I maintain that the true spirit of the scientific - research, embracing as it does zeal in search for truth, devotion - to duty, which such a search imposes, faith in good, as the normal - and necessary result of such a search ... that such a spirit is, - at this moment, one of the most needed elements in the political - progress of our country. - - What I maintain, then, is, that this zeal for truth as truth, this - faith in the good forever allied to the truth, this devotion to - duty, as the result of such faith and zeal, constitute probably the - most needed element at this moment in the political regeneration of - this country, and that, therefore, the example of our little army - of true devotees of science has an exceeding preciousness. - - Their zeal, their devotion, their faith, furnish one of those very - protests which are most needed against that low tone of political - ideas which in its lower strata is political corruption. Their life - gives that very example of a high spirit, aim, and work, which the - time so greatly needs. - -The aims and aspirations and the life of American scientists have not -changed since Andrew White spoke these memorable words fifty years ago. -A life guided by aims and aspirations such as he describes is a life -of saints and not of ordinary materialistic clay. Such a life cannot -be attained without unceasing nursing of the spirit and unrelenting -suppression of the flesh. Men of Andrew White’s clearness of vision -will certainly tell you not only that the disciplined army of American -scientists mobilized under the flag of the National Research Council -will not interfere with the spiritual development of our national life, -but that, on the contrary, nothing else will advance that spiritual -development so rapidly and so irresistibly. The intellectual and -spiritual discipline which, according to White, our nation needs, is -certainly one of the ideals of these men of science. - -I shall mention now two other ideals. Just watch on some summer morning -how the early rays of the sun arouse the slumbering rose from its -blissful dreams, and remember that the rose responds because its body -and soul are tuned to the melodies which the glorious sunlight is -pouring into its enchanted ear. Remember also that what I have just -described is not merely a flowery figure of speech, but that it is a -concise description of a beautiful physical relationship, which science -has discovered in the life of the rose. I proceed a step further, -and ask: Have you ever feasted your joyful eye upon the beauties of -the landscape when on a golden May day you behold the blossoming -fruit-trees cover as far as your vision can reach the velvety green -turf of the numerous orchards of some blessed countryside? What does -each of these fruit-trees with its countless blossoms suggest to your -imagination? “The honey-hearted fruit of the mellow summer season,” -many of you will say. Yes, the blossom and the fruit are so far as the -untutored mind can see the beginning and the end of the short chain -of apparently commonplace events which make up the annually returning -life activity of the humble fruit-tree. Who cares what happens between -so beautiful a beginning and so satisfactory an end? The scientist -cares; his trained eye detects here an enchanting tale. Every one of -those fruit-trees on the golden May day appears to him like a bride -arrayed in the gayest of wedding raiment, waiting for the approaching -bridegroom. Its countless blossoms invite with longing lips the -life-giving kiss of the heavenly groom, the glorious sun. The balmy -breath of this golden bridegroom fills the air, kissing the lips of -every flower in the gay and festive orchards, and in the juicy pastures -and meadows. A heavenly thrill fills the hearts of these enamoured -blossoms, when, with sighs of delicious perfume, they, like blushing -brides, respond to the tender caresses of the heavenly bridegroom! Yes, -there will be honey-hearted fruit in the mellow summer season; the busy -bee knows it when it sucks its honey from the joyful bosoms of the -blessed brides; it knows that this honey is the first message to you -that the marriage between the heavenly bridegroom, the golden sun, and -the terrestrial brides, the countless blossoms, will be blessed with -many a heavenly offspring, the honey-hearted fruit of the mellow summer -season. - -This is, I admit, somewhat unusual language for a scientist to use. It -is, according to the opinion of many, unsuited to the description of -what people call the cold facts of science. They call them so, but is -their language justified? The physical facts of science are not cold, -unless your soul and your heart are cold. There is white heat somewhere -in every physical fact when we decipher correctly the message which -it conveys to us. A physical fact denotes activity, otherwise it could -not penetrate the depths of our consciousness. Activity is life, in -the broadest sense of this word. Death is cold, but life is hot, and -it is gross abuse of language to speak of cold facts of science. It is -such language that creates prejudice against science, representing its -methods as well as its results as devoid of everything which fires the -emotional side of man. Every physical fact has two terminals; one is in -our consciousness, and the other is in some star which is rejoicing in -the blazing vigor of its youth. Just as the life activity of the early -blossoms, and of the honey-hearted fruit of the mellow summer season, -has its origin in the life-giving breath of the heavenly bridegroom, -the glorious sun, so every terrestrial activity, every physical fact, -with one of its terminals anchored in our consciousness, can trace its -origin to the life-giving breath of some heavenly bridegroom, some -burning star. Just explore the path which leads from one of these -terminals to the other, and you will discover on each side of that path -those beauties which continually thrill the heart of a scientific man. -Do that and you will never again speak of the cold facts of science. - -Let me for illustration pursue one of these paths for a little -distance. Fifty years ago, when as a member of a herdsman’s squad of -boys I watched the stars on the black background of a summer midnight -sky, I felt that their fight was a language proclaiming the glory of -God. - -Has science changed that vision of the early childhood days? What does -that light convey to my mind to-day? The answer to this question was -born during my lifetime, and the gradual unfolding of its profound -meaning gave me the sweetest thrills of my life. Faraday and Maxwell -told me that light is a manifestation of the activity of electrical -force. The discovery of the Roentgen rays and of radioactivity taught -me that the primordial sources of electrical force are the positive and -the negative electrons, the electrons and the protons, the building -stones of matter, and that light is radiation, that is, propagation -into space of the electrical energy from the atomic structures in -which the electrons with their motions determine the character of the -structure and its energy content. Then came Thomson, the same Thomson -who scared me away from Cambridge, because I thought that he was too -young to be my teacher of physics, and he suggested that the electrons -possess an inertial mass on account of the electrical energy which -is stored up in them. This suggestion led to the generalization that -all electrical energy has mass possessing not only inertia but also -gravitational action. Who does not know to-day of this generalization, -and who has not heard of Einstein and of his verified prophecy that a -beam of light will be deflected by gravitational force? A beam of light -represents electrical energy and electrical energy is gravitationally -active just like any other mass considered by Newton. A star radiating -light radiates electrical energy, and, therefore, it throws out to us -a part of its own mass. When this radiation reaches us we can say, -therefore, without indulging in figures of speech that the star is -visiting us. I am not indulging in a flowery figure of speech when I -call solar radiation the balmy breath of the heavenly bridegroom, the -glorious sun. - -Fifty years ago, instructed by David’s psalms, I found in the light of -the stars a heavenly language which proclaims the glory of God, but I -did not know how that language reached me, and I hoped that some day -I might find out. That hope was in my soul when I landed at Castle -Garden. To-day science tells me that the stars themselves bring it to -me. Each burning star is a focus of energy, of life-giving activity, -which it pours out lavishly into every direction of the energy-hungry -space; it pours out the life of its own heart, in order to beget new -life. Oh, what a beautiful vista that opens to our imagination, and -what new beauties are disclosed by science in the meaning of the words -in Genesis: “He breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and -man became a living soul.” The light of the stars is a part of the -life-giving breath of God. I never look now upon the starlit vault -of the heaven without feeling this divine breath and its quickening -action upon my soul. But here I must stop. I feel the heavy hand of the -fundamentalist pulling me down, and the icy chill of his disapproving -voice reminds me that his theology will not permit an interpretation -of the words of Genesis which cannot be understood by people whose -knowledge of science is about the same as that of the Assyrians and -Chaldeans of several thousand years ago. - -I have taken some pains here to point to some beauties in one -particular department of physical science. Such beauties abound in -every other department of science, and they are in no respect inferior -to those which form the subject of the fine arts, like music, painting, -sculpture, and poetry. To cultivate the beautiful in science, is, -according to my view, the second ideal of the many loyal workers -associated in the National Research Council. Will that kind of science -interfere with the spiritual development of our national life? - -The third ideal may be described as follows: All changeable things -are subject to the play of evolution, and are mortal, from the tiny -flower in the field to the awe-inspiring cloud figure in the heavens -which is called the nebula of Orion. But the laws which the stars and -the planets obey in their paths through the heavens never change nor -grow old; they are immutable, they are immortal. The elements of the -microcosm, the electrons in the atom, are as far as we know immutable -and immortal, because man knows no natural process by which the -electrons and the laws which they obey can ever be changed. They are -not the product of any natural process of evolution known to man. To -discover the immutable laws which this substantia, this immutable -foundation of the universe, obeys is the highest aim of scientific -research. The existence of these eternally unchangeable things -brings us face to face with a power which is the eternally immovable -background of all physical phenomena. We feel intuitively that science -will never penetrate the mysteries beyond it, but our faith encourages -us in the belief that there behind the impenetrable veil of this -eternal background is the throne of a divine power, the soul of the -physical world, the activity of which we contemplate in our research of -physical phenomena. I am sure that many loyal members of the National -Research Council believe that scientific research will bring us closer -to this divinity than any theology invented by man ever did. The -cultivation of this belief is certainly one of the ideals of American -science, represented by the men who are associated in the National -Research Council. In the face of this ideal, there certainly cannot be -any conflict between science and religion. - -I firmly believe that in the National Research Council we have an -organization which represents the mobilized scientific intellect of -the United States, which in the pursuit of its lofty ideals will some -day succeed in creating in our democracy a profound respect for the -services of the highly trained intellect. A democracy which believes -that its destiny should be intrusted to the leadership of men of -training, discipline, and lofty aspirations and knows how to secure -the services of such men is a democracy which is safe for the world. -Such a democracy, I believe, was the vision of the scientific men -who, fifty years ago, started the great movement for higher endeavor. -Such a democracy will lead some day to what I call ideal democracy, -that is, a state organism in which each human unit contributes its -definite share to the physical and mental activity of the organism. The -relation of the individual to the social body in an ideal democracy, -as I conceive it, will be very similar to the relation of our cells -to our body. Activities of individuals will be coordinated, just as -the activities of our cells are, so that one composite mind will guide -the resultant activities of the whole social body. This is the mind -which my friend, General J. J. Carty, the distinguished engineer and -philosopher, calls the “supermind.” A well selected name, because it -suggests the name “superman” for ideal democracy, and thus attaches to -this somewhat vague concept of recent years a definite meaning. The -general is a strong believer in the theory that by evolutionary steps -we are gradually approaching the state of ideal democracy. He has lived -some forty years in the most perfect industrial organization of the -world, the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, and, naturally, he -cannot help being an ardent follower and enthusiastic advocate of the -belief in the advent of ideal democracy. But is there anything in the -history of the evolutionary progress of the world which justifies this -comforting belief? I think there is. - -The Greeks of old believed that the world started with chaos, and -that out of the chaos came the cosmos. They were optimists, because -in their theory coordination, order, and beauty were evolved out of -hideous disorder. There are many pessimists to-day who prophesy the -opposite course of development of this, in their opinion, most wicked -world. Modern science confirms the ancient belief of the Greeks in a -remarkable manner. Nothing else so resembles that chaotic start of the -world which the ancients conceived as does the activity of a young -star, because nothing more completely illustrates lack of order and -coordination. Each one of its pulsating atoms is indifferent to the -white-heat activity of the myriads of neighboring atoms, and each one -of them pours out its energy in an unconcerned and most prodigal manner -into the energy-hungry space. Consider our sun, as an illustration. -Tiny energy units are projected from myriads and myriads of its atomic -guns in haphazard fashion, apparently without any definite aim. These -energy units are propagated through space in a perfectly chaotic -fashion, without a definite object in view so far as science can tell. -But their fate and destiny are fixed and determined as soon as they -arrive on mother earth and are caught by the leaves, the blossoms, and -the ripening fruit of the fields, meadows, and orchards, and by the -endless nets of the all embracing oceans. The chaotic, non-coordinated -energy-swarms are thus imprisoned and made to work together with a -definite aim and for a definite purpose. The joys and beauties of our -annual seasons will tell you the story of this wonderful transformation -of primordial energy from the chaos of the young stars, white hot -with joy of life, to the cosmos of the old, cold, and moribund earth. -The principal lesson of this story is the great physical fact that -terrestrial organisms have instrumentalities with which they coordinate -the non-coordinated, thus bringing the order of old age out of the -disorder of youth, final cosmos out of primordial chaos. Is not the -existence of these instrumentalities the fundamental guiding principle -in the development of terrestrial life? Does not all our experience -teach us that progress means more complete coordination of all natural -activities, the activities of the atoms in the burning stars as well as -of the cells in our terrestrial bodies? Call this progress evolution, -or anything else you please, it certainly is there, and it leads to -a more beautiful and a more perfect order of things. The most nearly -perfect product of these coordinating instrumentalities is man--after -man, what? Yes, a superman; but what will that superman be? The present -man, with his physical and mental faculties more highly developed?--or -the superman as represented by what I call ideal democracy? Carty, -guided by his life experience and by the opinion of some biologists -and philosophers, favors the latter view. There certainly is something -in the evolutionary progress of the world which favors the view that -the coordinating instrumentalities which guide the activities of every -organism, and which are very powerful in man, may enable us some day to -find a way of coordinating the non-coordinated activities of the many -millions of individuals of a great community like these United States, -and thus of creating an ideal democracy. I see in the organization of -the National Research Council the first step in that direction. - -[Illustration: Facsimile of Letter from President Harding] - - THE WHITE HOUSE - WASHINGTON - - October 14, 1922. - - My dear Doctor Pupin: - - I accept with regret your resignation as a member of the National - Advisory Committee for Aeronautics. In doing so I want to express - to you the thanks of the Government and people of the United States - of your services as a member of the National Advisory Committee for - Aeronautics since its organization in 1915. - - I take this occasion to record recognition and appreciation - of the fact that, as Chairman of the Subcommittee on Aircraft - Communications, during the World War you undertook to develop a - reliable means of communication between aircraft in flight, and - that, by virtue of experiments conducted and directed in your own - laboratory, you were successful in contributing in an important - respect to the development of one of the great marvels of our age, - the radio telephone. - - I regret that you cannot continue to devote your talents to the - scientific study of the problems of flight as a member of the - National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics. - - Most sincerely yours, - _Warren G. Harding_ - - Dr. Michael I. Pupin, - Columbia University, - New York City. - -Ideal democracy, if attainable at all, will certainly be attainable in -our country, whose traditions are gradually eliminating racial hatreds -and suspicions and making them unknown human passions on this blessed -continent. If I have ever contributed anything substantial to the -progress of this splendid movement, whether as an immigrant or as an -inventor, it has been most amply rewarded by the generous spirit of the -letter on the opposite page, written by a man whom I had the honor of -knowing personally and who to me always represented the ideal type of a -genuine American. - - * * * * * - -These few concluding lines I wrote on the day when this good American -breathed his last. His memory will always encourage us in the belief -that our blessed country is destined to become the first ideal -democracy of the world. - - - - -INDEX - - - Action and reaction in electricity, 296-299 - - Adams, John Crouch, 181 - - Adams, President, 315 - - Adelphi Academy, Brooklyn, 108-110, 120 - - Alexander the Liberator, Czar, 8, 9 - - Alhazan, 204 - - Alps, travels in, 146-150, 208 - - Alternating-current theory, 283-289, 294 - - American Association for the Advancement of Science, 291, 359 - - American Institute of Electrical Engineers, 283, 337, 348, 359-362 - - American Institute of Mining and Metallurgical Engineers, 359 - - _American Journal of Science_, 299 - - American Mathematical Society, 352 - - American Philosophical Society, 363 - - American Physical Society, 351-353, 358, 360 - - American scientific progress, 279-384 _et passim_ - - American Society of Civil Engineers, 359 - - American Society of Mechanical Engineers, 359, 364 - - American Telephone and Telegraph Company, 335, 338-340, 342, 345, 384 - - Americanization, 318 _et passim_ - - Ames, Joseph Sweetman, 256 - - Ampère, 187, 257 - - Appel, 257 - - Arago, 257 - - Archimedes, 193, 194, 221 - - Aristides, 92 - - Aristotle, 20 - - Armour & Co., 344 - - Armstrong, Major E. H., 19, 342, 358 - - Armstrong, Hamilton Fish, 316 - - Arran (island), 212-217 - - Aspern (battle), 6 - - _Astronomy and Astrophysics_, 293 - - Atomic structure, 356, 357, 384-386. _See also_ Matter, nature of, - _and_ Electrons - - - Bacon, Roger, 204 - - Bagpiper, Serbian, 19 _et passim_ - - Baker’s wagon, painting of, 62, 63 - - Banat, life and experiences in, 2-22, 95, 96, 152, 157-166, 324, 346 - - Barnard, President, of Columbia University, 104, 128, 135, 183, 185, - 197, 199-202, 205, 220, 230, 278, 290, 291, 320, 375 - - Barrett, Lawrence, 89 - - Batikin, Baba, 6-8, 12, 29, 46, 112, 131 - - Becquerel, 350 - - Beecher, Doctor Henry Ward, 105-108, 124, 129, 136, 156, 163 - - Belgrade, experiences in, 153, 162 - - Belgrade University, 317 - - Bell, Alexander Graham, 299, 300, 319 - - Berlin, experiences and study in, 229-278, 309, 318, 338 - - Berlin, studies at University of, 229-278, 318, 338 - - Bessemer process, 259 - - _Bible, The_, 10, 18, 20, 21, 67, 243, 245, 246, 381, 382 - - Bilharz, 85-95, 100-104, 106, 108, 112, 113, 130, 131, 140, 247, 318 - - Biscuit factory experiences, 72-76, 78-95 - - Bismarck, 247, 253, 261, 275 - - Booth, Edwin, 89, 129 - - Bowery Mission, 66, 67, 84 - - Bradley, 285 - - Brown (New Jersey farmer), 66-68 - - Browning, Oscar, 143, 171-173 - - Bryant, William Cullen, 89, 93, 102 - - Budapest experiences, 25, 30, 150-152, 155, 162 - - Bukovala’s mill, 168, 169, 243 - - Bull, Doctor, 307 - - Burgess, Professor, 128, 135 - - Butler, Prescott Hall, 307, 308 - - Butler, President Nicholas Murray, 60 - - - Cambridge University, 143-146, 156, 164, 169-187, 190-211, 309, 318, - 321, 338, 349, 381 - - Campbell, 187, 211, 213, 228 - - Canal rays, 304 - - Cane rush, Columbia, 114, 117, 118 - - Carnegie, Andrew, 259, 360-365, 375 - - Carnegie Corporation of New York, 371 - - Carnegie Institution of Washington, 362, 366 - - Carnot, Sadi, 186, 193 - - Carter, Mr. (of Norfolk), 328 - - Carty, General J. J., 384, 387 - - Castle Garden, 1, 2, 39-41, 43, 45, 98, 99, 104, 105, 142, 148, - 278 _et passim_ - - Cathode rays, 304, 305 _et passim_ - - Cavendish, Lord, 273 - - Cavendish Physics Laboratory, 183, 198, 199, 273 - - Cayley, 192 - - Centennial Exposition, Philadelphia, 78 - - Century Club, 308 - - Chanler, John Armstrong, 135 - - Charnoyevich, Patriarch, 3, 4 - - Chicago University, 376 - - Choate, Joseph, 288 - - Christian of West Street, 60-64, 72, 73, 80, 92, 104, 247 - - Christopher (kindling-wood peddler), 111, 117 - - Chuchuk Stana, 54, 55 - - Church in Delaware City, 52; - in Brooklyn, 105-107 - - Cicero, 112 - - Civil War, United States, 315, 360, 366 - - Clark, Latimer, 361, 362 - - Columbia College and University, 98-110, 112-123, 125-130, 132-137, - 145, 160, 161, 197-199, 201, 202, 218, 276-310, 320-322, 326, 331, - 352, 359, 361, 376 _et passim_ - - Cooper, Peter, 77, 319 - - Cooper Union, 64-66, 73, 75-80, 95, 98, 130, 132, 319 - - Copernicus, 195 - - Cornell University, 377 - - Corrie, summer at, 212-217 - - Cortlandt Street cracker factory, 72-76, 78-95 - - Coulomb’s law, 227, 228 - - Cracker-factory experiences, 72-76, 78-95 - - Crawford, F. Marion, 125, 143 - - Crocker, Professor Francis Bacon, 273, 279-282, 285, 286, 302, 310 - - Crookes, William, 303 - - Curie, Madame, 350 - - Custozza (battle), 7, 9 - - - Danube, journey on, 23-25 - - Darboux, 257 - - Darwin, 91, 195 - - Davy, 202 - - Dayton, New Jersey, farm experiences, 66-68 - - Declaration of Independence, 56, 75, 76, 78, 79, 98, 103, 153, 163 - - De Forest, Lee, 342, 358 - - Delaware farm experiences, 45-56 - - Democracy, 383-387 - - De Morgan, Professor, 176 - - Dennis, Doctor Frederick Shepard, 323-324 - - Dernburg, 69 - - de Tocqueville, 203, 204, 256, 319, 320 - - Devonshire, Duke of, 273 - - DeWitt, 121 - - Dindorf (philologist), 131 - - Direct current theory, 283-289 - - Discharge of electricity in corona form, 293 - - Distortions in alternating current, 294 - - Draper, Doctor John William, 122, 202, 290, 291, 320, 375 - - Duncan, Doctor Louis, 289 - - Dunn, Gano, 292, 367, 368 - - - Eastman, George, 375 - - Eastman Kodak Company, 341 - - Ebert, 293 - - Edison, Thomas, 135, 299, 307, 309, 319 - - Edison General Electric Company, 287, 289 - - Eilers (of cracker factory), 72 - - Einstein, 354-356 - - Electrical Congress, Chicago, 287, 289 - - Electrical Engineering Department, Columbia, 276-310 - - _Electrical Researches_ (Faraday), 211, 213, 222-229 - - Electricity, _passim_ - - _Electricity_, 308, 309 - - Electromagnetic Induction, 133, 134 - - Electromagnetic theory of light and matter, 211, 218-229, 236-241, - 264-271, 278, 293-295, 303-306, 349-351, 354-358 - - Electron Physics, 353-358 - - Electrons, 349-352, 356, 357, 381 - - Emmet, Devereux, 119 - - Engineering Foundation, 365-368 - - English, study of, 50, 55, 88 - - Ericsson, 78 - - Ether, 354, 355 - - Eugene of Savoy, Prince, 5 - - Evarts, William, 93 - - _Evening Post_, New York, 93 - - Evolution, 384-387 - - Ewing, General Thomas, 102 - - _Experimental Researches in Electricity_ (Faraday), 211, 213, 222-229 - - - Farad (electrical unit), 273 - - Faraday, Michael, 133-135, 193, 195, 199, 202, 205, 210-213, 215, - 219-230, 233-241, 243, 245, 246, 249, 264, 267, 268, 270-274, 278, - 281, 284, 303, 305, 306, 349, 351, 380 - - _Faraday as Discoverer_ (Tyndall), 235 - - Fayerweather Laboratory, 376 - - Fehispan, governor of Torontal, 161-164 - - Fish, Frederick P., 340 - - Fiske, 352 - - Fizeau, 257 - - Fluorescent screens, 307, 309 - - Foucault, 257 - - Fourier, 257 - - France, summer in, 187-189; - visit to, 257, 258, 262 - - Francis, Emperor, 5 - - Francis Joseph, Emperor, 9, 22 - - Franklin, Benjamin, 12, 13, 19, 29, 39, 45, 57, 74, 105, 124, 193, - 202, 266, 312, 315, 360 - - Franklin Institute, 348 - - Fred (friend of Jim the engineer), 83 - - Frederick, Crown Prince, 233, 275 - - Frederick the Great, 5-7 - - French scientific progress, 257, 262 - - Fresnel, 204, 257 - - Frushka Gora (mountain), 24 - - - Gabriel, son of Milutin, 165-169 - - Gaenserndorf, 25, 26, 28 - - Galileo, 193-195, 221, 297, 333 - - Gallatin, Albert R., 296 - - Garibaldi, 8, 9 - - Geltner, Professor, 275 - - General Electric Company, 289, 341, 358 - - General Relativity Theory, 355 - - Generators, electrical, 281, 282 - - Germans, 30, 31, 35; - social democracy, 89; - scientific progress, 208, 256-264 _et passim_ - - Germany, studies in, 229-278, 318, 338 - - Gessler, 147 - - Ghiga (peasant), 161 - - Gibbons, Cardinal, 59, 60 - - Gibbs, Professor Josiah Willard, 184, 186, 207, 256, 257, 277, 278 - - Godfather of author, 160 - - Goethe, 86 - - Goldstein, Doctor, 303-305 - - Goodyear, 319 - - Graduation from Columbia, 136, 137 - - Grant, 79 - - Gravitation, nature of, 354 - - Green, Mr. (of Marconi Co.), 343-345 - - Grounding, importance of electrical, 301, 302 - - - Hale, Doctor George Ellery, 294, 362, 367, 368 - - Hamilton, Alexander, 100, 101, 103, 107, 118, 121, 128, 193, 315 - - Hamilton, Duke of, 212 - - Hamilton Hall, Columbia University, 100, 101 - - Harding, President Warren G., 386, 387 - - Harvard University, 256, 376 - - Hayduk Velyko, 6, 54, 55 - - Hayes, 91, 93 - - Heat, nature of, 76, 185, 186 - - _Heat as a Mode of Motion_ (Tyndall), 102 - - Heaviside, 333-335 - - Hebert Prize of French Academy, 348 - - Helmholtz, Hermann von, 193, 195, 200, 208, 210, 218, 225, 230-243, - 248, 249, 251, 256-258, 260-264, 271, 275, 277, 287, 289, 294, 295, - 298, 299, 303-305, 341, 344 - - Henry (electrical unit), 273 - - Henry, Frank, 114, 115 - - Henry, Joseph, 77, 183, 201, 202, 205, 220, 266, 271-274, 284, 290, - 291, 319, 320, 358, 366, 375 - - Henry, Patrick, 88 - - Herdsman, experiences in Idvor as, 14-21, 301, 302, 333, 334 - - Hermite, 257 - - Herschel, William, 202 - - Hertz, Doctor Heinrich, 219, 221, 228, 263-272, 301, 305 - - Hertzian oscillator, 265-270 - - Hilendar (monastery), 70 - - Hittorf, 303 - - Hoffman, 263 - - Hohenzollern, William, 112 - - Homer, 86, 112, 130, 131 - - Hook, 334 - - Hoover, Herbert, 314 - - Horace, 87 - - Horse training in Norfolk, 324-326 - - Howe, 77 - - Hunt, Robert, 102, 130 - - Huss, Yan, 33 - - Hutchinson, Doctor Cary T., 337 - - Huxley, 91 - - - Idealism in American science, 311-384 - - Idvor, life and experiences in, 2-22, 34, 36, 138-143, 156-169, - 189-191, 215, 242-248, 301, 302, 346 - - Inductance coils, 335-342, 345 - - Induction, Electromagnetic, 133, 134 - - - Jackson, A. V. Williams, 275, 276 - - Jacoby, 352 - - Jay, John, 100, 101, 103, 107, 121, 143, 315 - - Jefferson, Thomas, 74, 315 - - Jefferson physical laboratory, Harvard, 256, 376 - - Jim (boiler-room engineer), 74-76, 78-85, 92, 95, 104, 106, 108, - 130, 193 - - Johns Hopkins University, 59, 60, 183, 184, 198, 199, 288-292, 376 - - - Karageorge, 6-9 - - Karlovci, 23, 24, 26, 30, 57, 68, 77, 97, 153-155, 162 - - Kellogg, Doctor Vernon, 373, 375 - - Kelvin, Lord (Sir William Thomson), 182, 183, 266, 287, 304, 332, 333, - 335, 338, 363 - - Kepler, 204 - - Kessedjia, Moussa, 115 - - Kirchhoff, Gustav Robert, 204, 233, 258, 261, 263, 332, 333, 335, 338 - - Koenig, Professor Arthur, 230-232, 234, 235, 240, 241, 248, 249 - - Kos (Slovenian teacher), 19-21, 32, 76, 95, 241, 244, 266, 312 - - Kossovo (battle), 7, 54 - - Kossuth, 163 - - Krupp, 259 - - - Labor Bureau, Castle Garden, 40, 41 - - La Grange, 187, 189, 190, 193, 194, 204, 206, 207, 210, 213, 257, 330, - 331, 335, 338, 339, 348 - - Lansing, Robert, 2 - - Laplace, 187, 257 - - Lectures given for laboratory equipment, 280, 281 - - Lenard, Professor, 305 - - Leopold I, Emperor, 3, 4 - - _Life of Maxwell_ (Campbell), 187 - - Light, nature of, 19-21, 133, 144, 166, 171, 201, 202, 211, 218-221, - 240, 244, 271 - - Lincoln, Abraham, 8, 9, 29, 39, 55, - 74, 79, 92, 105, 107, 193, 315, 319, 360, 366, 372 - - Lines of force, 226-230, 236-240, 265-271 - - Ling (of King’s College choir), 172 - - Lippmann, 257 - - Livingston, Chancellor, 100, 101, 103, 107, 121, 137 - - Longfellow, Henry W., 87, 102, 149 - - Lorentz, Professor, 355 - - Low, President, 307, 331 - - Lucerne experiences, 146-150 - - Lukanitch family, 95-99, 105, 106, 116, 136 - - Lyermontoff (poet), 18 - - Lyubomir, 168 - - - Macmillan homestead, Corrie, 216, 217 - - Macnamara, Jane, 82, 86 - - Madge of Corrie, 213, 214, 216 - - Magnetism, 218-229 - - Marconi, 301, 302 - - Marconi Company of America, 343-345, 347 - - Maria Theresa, Empress, 5 - - Marko, Prince, 8, 9, 29, 46, 54, 55, 115, 195 - - Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 359 - - Matter, nature of, 218-221, 354. _See also_ Electrons, Atomic - structure, etc. - - _Matter and Motion_ (Maxwell), 179, 185, 193 - - Maxwell, James Clerk, 133-135, 144, 145, 153, 166, 171, 174-176, - 179-181, 183-187, 190, 193-195, 197, 198, 200, 201, 204, 206, 208, - 210-214, 217-222, 229, 234-243, 249, 256, 264, 267, 270-274, 278, - 284, 303, 305, 306, 320, 321, 350, 352, 380 - - Mayo-Smith, Professor Richmond, 128 - - McCormick, 77, 319 - - McCullough, John, 89 - - _Méchanique Analytique_ (La Grange), 189, 193 - - “Men of Progress” (painting), 77, 78, 130, 319 - - Merriam, Professor, 128, 131, 134, 135, 143 - - Michael (college janitor), 114 - - Michelson, 354, 355 - - Miletich, Svetozar, 21, 22 - - Milton, 102 - - Moltke, 253, 261, 262, 275 - - Momentum in electricity, 297, 298 - - Morley, 354, 355 - - Morse, 77, 319 - - Motion, electric (in rarefied gases), 303-306 - - Moula Pasha, 6 - - Mount Wilson Astronomical Observatory, 294, 362, 367 - - Mueller (glass-blower), 303, 304 - - - Napoleon, 5-7 - - Nassau Hall, Princeton, 69, 72, 84, 87, 88, 99, 101, 103 - - National Academy of Sciences, 205, 272, 360, 366, 367, 369 - - National Institute of Social Sciences, 339, 348 - - National Research Council, 317, 366-383, 387 - - Naturalization, 136, 137 - - _Nature_, 192, 200, 201, 205, 206, 208, 221, 236 - - Nemanya, Zhupan, 10 - - “Neptune, Father,” 139-142 - - Nettleton, Mr. (of Norfolk), 327-329 - - New England Cracker Factory, 72-76, 78-95 - - New Physics, 349, 353-358 - - New York, landing in, 37-42 - - New York Academy of Sciences, 309 - - New York Mathematical Society, 352 - - New York Rapid Transit Commission, 289 - - Newton, 174, 177, 179, 180, 186, 193-196, 204, 210, 211, 221, 225, - 282, 283, 296, 334, 381 - - Niagara Falls Power and Construction Company, 287, 288 - - Nikola (Serbian cigarette seller), 252-254, 258, 274-276 - - Niven, W. D., 143-146, 156, 171, 174-176, 178, 180, 181, 186, 197, 240 - - Norfolk, Conn., life at, 322-329 - - Nyegosh, Bishop (poet), 20, 68, 112 - - - Octagon class, 119, 121 - - Oerstedt, 221, 224 - - Osborn, Henry Fairfield, 71 - - Oscillator, Hertzian, 265-270, 301, 302 - - Oxen herding in Idvor, 14-21, 301, 302, 333, 334 - - - Palacky, 31-33 - - Panchevo, experiences in, 12, 20-24, 29, 31, 35, 154-156, 163, 312-318 - - Paris peace conference, 2, 312, 314, 315 - - Parkinson, Stephen, 182, 183 - - Parsons, William Barclay, 286 - - Pashitch, Premier, 312 - - Paul (of the cracker factory), 79, 80 - - Penn, William, 45, 57 - - Perrin, 349 - - Philadelphia, early experiences in, 56, 57 - - Phonograph, 299, 300 - - Physical Society, Berlin, 263-271 - - Physics, New and Electron, 349, 353-358 - - Pickernell, Mr., 335 - - Planck, 261, 277 - - _Plea for Pure Science, A_ (Rowland), 291 - - Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, 105-108, 129 - - _Poetry of Science, The_ (Hunt), 102 - - Poincaré, 257 - - Pornic, vacation in, 187-189 - - Power distribution, electrical, 289 - - _Practical Aspects of the Alternating Current Theory_ (Pupin), - lecture, 283, 284 - - Prague, experiences in, 21-35, 163, 164, 248 - - Preceptorial system in college, 326 - - Princeton University, 69-72, 84, 87, 101, 143, 272, 316, 326 - - Privilegia (document), 4, 5, 9 - - Problems of physical universe, 354 - - Prussians, 247-255. _See also_ Germans - - Pupin coil, 335-342, 345 - - Pupin, Constantine (father of author), 2, 21-23, 34, 158 - - Pupin, Mrs. Michael, 276-278, 292, 310, 322, 330-332 - - Pupin, Olympiada (mother of author), 2, 10-12, 22, 23, 34, 157-160, - 168, 169, 190, 191, 215, 242-246, 249-251, 255 - - Pyne, Moses Taylor, 69 - - - Radichevich, Branko, 154 - - Radio, 295-299, 303, 342, 343, 357, 358 - - Radioactivity, 350, 351, 381 - - Radium, 350 - - Rayleigh, Lord, 144, 175, 176, 181, 184, 197, 213, 240, 330, 352 - - Regnault, 182 - - Relativity theories, 355 - - Research, progress of America in, 279-384 - - Resonance, 295-299 - - Resonators, electrical, 295-301 - - Reymond, DuBois, 258, 263 - - Rieger, 31-33 - - Rittenhouse, 202 - - Rives, George, 143 - - Rives, Reginald, 326 - - Rockefeller, John D., 375 - - Rockefeller Foundation, 371 - - Rockefeller General Education Board, 371 - - Roentgen, 305, 306, 349, 350 - - Roentgen rays, 302, 303, 305, 329, 349, 380. _See also_ X-rays - - Rood, Professor, 133, 134, 199 - - Routh, Doctor John Edward, 174-180, 182, 185-187, 189, 197, 213 - - Rowland, Henry Augustus, 183, 184, 256, 287-292, 295, 298, 299, - 352-354, 357, 358 - - Royal Serbian Academy, 317 - - Rumford, Count (Benjamin Thompson), 202, 218 - - Rutherford, Sir Ernest, 352, 353 - - Rutherford Park, N. J., summer at, 111-113 - - Rutherfurd, Lewis, 122 - - Rutherfurd, Lewis Morris, 122-129, 133-135, 144 - - Rutherfurd, Winthrop, 122-126, 144 - - Ryerson Laboratory, 376 - - - St. Sava, 10-12, 33, 35, 68, 70, 77, 141, 158, 250 - - School life in Idvor, 10-12; - in Panchevo, 12 - - _Science_, 309 - - _Scientific American_, 74 - - Scientific progress and research, 202-206, 218-230, 256-264, 279-310, - 311-384 _et passim_ - - Scientific research, American progress in, 279-310 - - Scientific research and the universities, 341-343, 358-360, 375, 376 - - Scotland, summer in, 212-217 - - Serbian Child Welfare Association of America, 312 - - Serbs, 1-28, 151-168 _et passim_ - - Shakespeare, 86, 89, 129 - - Shepard, Doctor Charles, 108-111, 136 - - Siemens, Ernst Werner von, 260, 275, 289, 344 - - Siemens and Halske, 344, 345 - - Signalling by herdsmen of Idvor, 15-21, 301, 302, 333, 334 - - Sing Sing prison, 284, 287 - - Singers, Serbian, 155 - - Sloan Laboratory, 376 - - Smith, Professor Monroe, 128 - - Smithsonian Institution, 272 - - Snellius, 204 - - Sobiesky, King, 3 - - Solar corona, 293 - - Solar phenomena, electromagnetic theory of, 293, 294 - - Sorbonne, the, 257 - - Sound, early herdsman’s experiments, 15-21, 301, 302; - transmission, 333 - - South St. Mary, Md., 58 - - Special Relativity Theory, 355 - - Sprague, Frank J., 287 - - Steel industry, German, 259 - - Stillwell, Lewis B., 287 - - Stokes, Sir George Gabriel, 175, 181, 192, 197, 204, 213, 240 - - Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 39, 105 - - Strazhilovo, Will, 162 - - Subways, 289 - - _Summary and Conclusions_ (Tyndall), 204-208 - - _Sun_, New York, 74, 93, 94 - - Swasey, Ambrose, 363-365, 368, 369, 375 - - Swift Company, 344 - - Switzerland, experiences in, 146-150, 208, 330, 331 - - - Telegraphy, 234, 300, 347, 348 - - Telephony, 299, 300, 331-342, 345-348 - - Tell, William, 147 - - _Tendencies of Modern Electrical Research_ (Pupin), 309 - - Tesla, 285 - - _Theory of Heat_ (Maxwell), 185, 193 - - Theses for doctor’s degree, 277 - - Thomas, Sidney Gilchrist, 259, 260 - - Thompson, Benjamin (Count Rumford), 202, 218 - - Thomson, Elihu, 284, 286, 287, 289 - - Thomson-Houston Company, 287, 289 - - Thomson, Sir John Joseph, 198, 292, 293, 306, 349, 350, 352, 356, 381 - - Thomson, Sir William (Lord Kelvin), 182, 183, 266, 287, 304, 332, 333, - 335, 338, 363 - - Tilden, 91 - - Tilton, 105 - - Tolstoy, 152 - - Traction, electrical, 286, 287 - - Traditions, 104, 105, 120, 121 - - _Transactions of the American Institute of Electrical Engineers_, 299 - - Transmission and motion of electricity, 287, 303-306 - - _Tribune_, New York, 91 - - Tuning, electrical, 19, 295-299. _See also_ Radio - - Tyndall, John, 102, 130, 132, 186, 199-213, 220-222, 230, 235, 236, - 240, 283, 291, 321, 351, 377 - - Tyndall Fellowship, 199, 209 - - - _Uncle Tom’s Cabin_ (Stowe), 29, 39, 105, 156 - - United Engineering Society, 361-365 - - - Vacuum tubes, 303-306, 349, 357, 358 - - Van Amringe, Professor Howard, 128, 352 - - _Van Nostrand Magazine_, 179 - - Vaschy, 333-335 - - Velocity, electrical, 234 - - Vibratory motion, transmission of, 330-338 - - Vienna experiences, 97, 150-152, 154, 155 - - “Vila” of Delaware farm, 47-58, 80, 88 - - Vila Raviyoyla, 195 - - Vitellio, 204 - - Vreeland, Mr. (inventor of oscillator), 19 - - - War, World, 312, 315, 316, 333, 334, 344, 359, 360, 366, 369-371, 376 - - Warner, Mr., 364 - - Warner and Swasey shops, 364 - - Washington, George, 54, 55, 100, 137, 193, 315, 372 - - Washington, Martha, 54 - - Watt, James, 75 - - Webster, Arthur Gordon, 255-257, 308 - - Webster, Daniel, 88, 315 - - Webster, Professor at Adelphi Academy, 108, 109 - - Welch, Professor William, 184 - - Western Electric Company, 340, 358 - - Westinghouse Company, 284, 341 - - _Westphalia_ (ship), 35-39, 138 - - Wheeler, Doctor Schuyler Skaats, 361 - - White, Andrew D., 203, 220, 274, 320, 375, 377, 378 - - Widener, Mr., 326 - - William I, Emperor, 252, 275 - - Wilson, President Woodrow, 2, 71, 313-315, 367, 369, 370 - - “Wilson Day” in Panchevo, 312-318 - - Wireless, 295-299, 303, 342, 343, 357, 358 - - _Worcester Gazette_, 308 - - World War, 312, 315, 316, 333, 334, 344, 359, 360, 366, 369-371, 376 - - - X-rays, 305-310, 330, 332, 350, 351. _See also_ Roentgen rays - - - Yale University, 184, 185, 376 - - Yevrosima (mother of Prince Marko), 54, 195 - - Youmans, 320 - - Young, Professor Charles A., 293 - - Young, Thomas, 204 - - - Zhivkovich, Protoyeray, 20, 22, 31, 32, 156, 316 - - Zhizhka (general), 33 - - - - -Transcriber’s Note: - -Punctuation has been standardised. Spelling and variations in -hyphenation have been retained as they appeared in the original -publication except as follows: - - Page 22 - Zivkovich came to my defense _changed to_ - Zhivkovich came to my defense - - Page 96 - and a a big tear threatened _changed to_ - and a big tear threatened - - Page 257 - Hermite, Darboux, Appell, Lippmann, _changed to_ - Hermite, Darboux, Appel, Lippmann, - - Page 308 - adressed a letter to the _changed to_ - addressed a letter to the - - Page 337 - communication to the Amercian Institute _changed to_ - communication to the American Institute - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM IMMIGRANT TO -INVENTOR *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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width: 98%;} - .x-ebookmaker p {margin-top: .1em; margin-bottom: .1em;} - .x-ebookmaker table {width: 98%;} - .x-ebookmaker img {width: 80%;} - .x-ebookmaker .clear {clear: both;} - .x-ebookmaker .width700 {width: 100%;} - .x-ebookmaker .width500 {width: 100%;} - .x-ebookmaker .width200 {width: 16em;} - .x-ebookmaker .width100 {width: 10em;} - /*.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;}*/ - x-ebookmaker-drop, .x-ebookmaker-drop {} - /* ]]> */</style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of From Immigrant to Inventor, by Michael Pupin</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: From Immigrant to Inventor</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Michael Pupin</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 5, 2021 [eBook #66886]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR ***</div> - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h1>FROM<br /> -IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR</h1> -<hr class="divider2" /> -</div> - -<div class="x-ebookmaker-drop figcenter width500" id="cover2"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="650" height="1021" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -<div class="figcenter width500" id="frontispiece"> - <img src="images/frontispiece2.jpg" width="500" height="661" alt="Frontispiece" /> - <div class="caption"><i>From a photograph, copyright by Underwood - & Underwood</i></div> - <div class="caption">MICHAEL PUPIN</div> - <p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/frontispiece.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> -</div> - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -<p class="center p180">FROM<br /> -IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR</p> - -<p class="center mt3">BY<br /> -<span class="p140">MICHAEL PUPIN</span><br /> -<small>PROFESSOR OF ELECTRO-MECHANICS, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, NEW YORK</small></p> - -<div class="figcenter width200" id="colophon2"> - <img src="images/colophon2.png" width="200" height="203" alt="Colophon" /> -</div> - -<p class="center p140">CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br /> -NEW YORK · LONDON<br /> -1949</p> -</div> - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider2" /> -<p class="center smcap">Copyright, 1922, 1923, by<br /> -CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="center">Printed in the United States of America</p> - -<p class="center">Published September, 1923</p> - -<p class="center">Reprinted November, 1928; January, March, 1924<br /> -July, 1924</p> - -<div class="figcenter width100" id="scribner"> - <img src="images/scribner.png" width="100" height="110" alt="" /> -</div> -</div> - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider2" /> -<p class="center lh">TO THE MEMORY OF<br /> -<span class="p140">MY MOTHER</span></p> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -<h2 id="preface2">PREFACE</h2> -</div> - -<p>Looking back over the development of this volume throughout the year or -more during which I have been writing it, it seems to me that I cannot -better express the end I have had in view than to repeat here what I -wrote at the beginning of Chapter XI:</p> - -<p>“The main object of my narrative was, and still is, to describe the -rise of idealism in American science, and particularly in physical -sciences and the related industries. I was a witness to this gradual -development; everything that I have described so far was an attempt to -qualify as a witness whose testimony has competence and weight. But -there are many other American scientists whose opinions in this matter -have more competence and weight than my opinion has. Why, then, should -a scientist who started his career as a Serbian immigrant speak of -the idealism in American science when there are so many native-born -American scientists who know more about this subject than I do? Those -who have read my narrative so far can answer this question. I shall -only point out now that there are certain psychological elements in the -question which justify me in the belief that occasionally an immigrant -can see things which escape the attention of the native. Seeing is -believing; let him speak who has the faith, provided that he has a -message to deliver.”</p> - -<p class="right smcap">Michael Pupin.</p> - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -<h2 id="contents">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table> -<tr> -<th class="tdr">CHAPTER</th> -<th class="tdr2" colspan="2">PAGE</th> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">I.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">What I Brought to America</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#i">1</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">II.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Hardships of a Greenhorn</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#ii"> 43</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">III.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The End of the Apprenticeship as Greenhorn</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#iii">72</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">From Greenhorn to Citizenship and College -Degree</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#iv">100</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">V.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">First Journey to Idvor in Eleven Years</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#v">138</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Studies at the University of Cambridge</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#vi">167</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">End of Studies at the University of Cambridge</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#vii">192</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Studies at the University of Berlin</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#viii">218</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">End of Studies at the University of Berlin</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#ix">247</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">X.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The First Period of My Academic Career at -Columbia University</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#x">279</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Rise of Idealism in American Science</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xi">311</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The National Research Council</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xii">349</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"> </td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Index</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#index">389</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -<h2 id="illustrations">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Michael Pupin</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Pupin’s Birthplace</td> - <td class="tdr2"><small>FACING PAGE</small> <a href="#birthplace">4</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Old Monument on Staro Selo</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#staro">4</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Olympiada Pupin, Mother of Michael Pupin</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#olympiada">10</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Village Church in Idvor</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#idvor">36</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Nassau Hall, Princeton University</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#nassau">68</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">An Early View of Cooper Union</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#cooper">74</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Men of Progress—American Inventors</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#progress">78</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Photograph of Pupin Taken in 1883</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#photo1883">136</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Joseph Henry</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#joseph">204</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">John Tyndall</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#john">204</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Michael Faraday</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#michael">220</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Herman von Helmholtz</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#herman">232</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The Hertzian Oscillator</td> - <td class="tdr2"><i>page</i> <a href="#oscillator">265</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Henry Augustus Rowland</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#henry">290</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">James Clerk Maxwell</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#james">290</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Electrical Discharges Representing Two Types of Solar Coronæ</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#electrical">294</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Solar Corona of 1922</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#solar">294</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Sir J. J. Thomson</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#sirjj">306</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Wilhelm Konrad Rœntgen</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#wilhelm">306</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Pupin’s Residence at Norfolk, Conn.</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#residence">328</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Dr. George Ellery Hale, Honorary Chairman - of the National Research Council</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#george">372</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The National Research Council Building, Washington, D. C.</td> - <td class="tdr2"><a href="#council">372</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Facsimile of Letter from President Harding</td> - <td class="tdr2"><i>page</i> <a href="#letter">386</a></td> - </tr> - </table> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>1</span> -<p class="center p180">FROM IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR</p> -</div> - -<h2 id="i">I<br /> -<span>WHAT I BROUGHT TO AMERICA</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> I landed at Castle Garden, forty-eight years ago, I had only five -cents in my pocket. Had I brought five hundred dollars, instead of five -cents, my immediate career in the new, and to me a perfectly strange, -land would have been the same. A young immigrant such as I was then -does not begin his career until he has spent all the money which he -has brought with him. I brought five cents, and immediately spent it -upon a piece of prune pie, which turned out to be a bogus prune pie. -It contained nothing but pits of prunes. If I had brought five hundred -dollars, it would have taken me a little longer to spend it, mostly -upon bogus things, but the struggle which awaited me would have been -the same in each case. It is no handicap to a boy immigrant to land -here penniless; it is not a handicap to any boy to be penniless when he -strikes out for an independent career, provided that he has the stamina -to stand the hardships that may be in store for him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A thorough training in the arts and crafts and a sturdy physique -capable of standing the hardships of strenuous labor do entitle the -immigrant to special considerations. But what has a young and penniless -immigrant to offer who has had no training in any of the arts or crafts -and does not know the language of the land? Apparently<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>2</span> nothing, and -if the present standards had prevailed forty-eight years ago I should -have been deported. There are, however, certain things which a young -immigrant may bring to this country that are far more precious than any -of the things which the present immigration laws prescribe. Did I bring -any of these things with me when I landed at Castle Garden in 1874? I -shall try to answer this question in the following brief story of my -life prior to my landing in this country.</p> - -<p>Idvor is my native town; but the disclosure of this fact discloses -very little, because Idvor cannot be found on any map. It is a little -village off the highway in the province of Banat, formerly belonging -to Austria-Hungary, but now an important part of the kingdom of the -Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. At the Paris peace conference, in 1919, -the Rumanians claimed this province; they claimed it in vain. They -could not overcome the fact that the population of Banat is Serb, and -particularly of that part of Banat where Idvor is located. President -Wilson and Mr. Lansing knew me personally, and when they were informed -by the Yugoslav delegates in Paris that I was a native of Banat, -the Rumanian arguments lost much of their plausibility. No other -nationality except the Serb has ever lived in Idvor. The inhabitants of -Idvor were always peasants; most of them were illiterate in my boyhood -days. My father and mother could neither read nor write. The question -arises now: What could a penniless boy of fifteen, born and bred -under such conditions, bring to America, which under any conceivable -immigration laws would entitle him to land? But I was confident that -I was so desirable an acquisition to America that I should be allowed -to land, and I was somewhat surprised that people made no fuss over me -when I landed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Serbs of Idvor from time immemorial always considered themselves -the brothers of the Serbs of Serbia,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>3</span> who are only a few gunshots away -from Idvor on the south side of the Danube. The Avala Mountain, near -Belgrade in Serbia, can easily be seen from Idvor on every clear day. -This blue and, to me at that time, mysterious-looking peak seemed -always like a reminder to the Serbs of Banat that the Serbs of Serbia -were keeping an eye of affectionate watchfulness upon them.</p> - -<p>When I was a boy Idvor belonged to the so-called military frontier of -Austria. A bit of interesting history is attached to this name. Up -to the beginning of the eighteenth century the Austrian Empire was -harassed by Turkish invasions. At periodically recurring intervals -Turkish armies would cross her southern frontier, formed by the Rivers -Danube and Sava, and penetrate into the interior provinces. Toward the -end of the seventeenth century they advanced as far as Vienna, and -would have become a serious menace to the whole of Europe if the Polish -king Sobiesky had not come to the rescue of Vienna. It was at that time -that Emperor Leopold I, of Austria, invited Charnoyevich, the Serb -Patriarch of Pech, in old Serbia, to move with thirty-five thousand -picked families of old Serbia into the Austrian territory north of the -Danube and the Sava Rivers, to become its guardians. For three hundred -years these Serbs had been fighting the Turks and had acquired great -skill in this kind of warfare. In 1690 the Patriarch with these picked -families moved into Austria and settled in a narrow strip of territory -on the northern banks of these two rivers. They organized what was -known later as the military frontier of Austria. 1690 is, according to -tradition, the date when my native village Idvor was founded, but not -quite on its present site. The original site is a very small plateau a -little to the north of the present site.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width700" id="birthplace"> - <img src="images/facing004a-i.jpg" width="700" height="525" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">IN THE HOUSE ON THE LEFT WITH THREE WINDOWS, A TYPICAL -PEASANT HOUSE OF IDVOR, PUPIN WAS BORN</div> - <div class="caption">On the right is the spire of the church on the village green</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing004a.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Banat is a perfectly level plain, but near the village of Idvor the -River Tamish has dug out a miniature canyon, and on the plateau of -one of the promontories of this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>4</span> canyon was the old site of Idvor. -It is connected to the new site by a narrow neck. The old site was -selected because it offered many strategical advantages of defense -against the invading Turk. The first settlers of the old village lived -in subterranean houses which could not be seen at a distance by the -approaching enemy. Remnants of these subterranean houses were still in -existence when I was a schoolboy in the village of Idvor, over fifty -years ago. The location of the original church was marked by a little -column built of bricks and bearing a cross. In a recess on the side of -the column was the image of St. Mary with the Christ Child, illuminated -by a burning wick immersed in oil. The legend was that this flame was -never allowed to go out, and that a religious procession by the good -people of Idvor to the old monument was sure to avert any calamity, -like pestilence or drought, that might be threatening the village. I -took part in many of these processions to the old deserted village, -and felt every time that I was standing upon sacred ground; sacred -because of the Christian blood shed there during the struggles of the -Christian Serbs of Idvor against the Turkish invaders. Every visit to -the old village site refreshed the memories of the heroic traditions -of which the village people were extremely proud. They were poor in -worldly goods, those simple peasant folk of Idvor, but they were rich -in memories of their ancient traditions.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width700" id="staro"> - <img src="images/facing004b-alt-i.jpg" width="700" height="428" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">THE OLD MONUMENT ON STARO SELO, THE OLD VILLAGE, WHERE -THE ORIGINAL SETTLERS OF IDVOR LIVED IN -SUBTERRANEAN DWELLINGS</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing004b-alt.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>As I look back upon my childhood days in the village of Idvor, I feel -that the cultivation of old traditions was the principal element in -the spiritual life of the village people. The knowledge of these -traditions was necessary and sufficient to them, in order to understand -their position in the world and in the Austrian Empire. When my people -moved into Austria under Patriarch Charnoyevich and settled in the -military frontier, they had a definite agreement with Emperor Leopold -I. It was recorded in an Austrian state document called Privilegia. -According to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>5</span> this ancient document the Serbs of the military frontier -were to enjoy a spiritual, economic, and political autonomy. Lands -granted to them were their own property. In our village we maintained -our own schools and our own churches, and each village elected its -own local administration. Its head was the Knez, or chief, usually a -sturdy peasant. My father was a Knez several times. The bishops and -the people elected their own spiritual and political heads, that is, -the Patriarch and the Voyvoda (governor). We were free and independent -peasant landlords. In return for these privileges, the people obligated -themselves to render military service for the defense of the southern -frontiers of the empire against the invading Turks. They had helped -to drive the Turks across the Danube, under the supreme command of -Prince Eugene of Savoy, in the beginning of the eighteenth century. -After the emperor had discovered the splendid fighting qualities of -the Serbs of the military frontier, he managed to extend the original -terms of the Privilegia so as to make it obligatory upon the military -frontiersmen to defend the empire against any and every enemy. -Subsequently the Serbs of the military frontier of Austria defended -Empress Maria Theresa against Frederick the Great; they defended -Emperor Francis against Napoleon; they defended Emperor Ferdinand -against the rebellious Hungarians in 1848 and 1849; and in 1859 and -1866 they defended Austria against Italy. The military exploits of the -men of Idvor during these wars supplied material for the traditions of -Idvor, which were recorded in many tales and stirring songs. Reading -and writing did not flourish in Idvor in those days, but poetry did.</p> - -<p>Faithful to the old customs of the Serb race, the people of Idvor held -during the long winter evenings their neighborhood gatherings, and -as a boy I attended many of them at my father’s house. The older men -would sit<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>6</span> around the warm stove on a bench which was a part of the -stove and made of the same material, usually soft brick plastered over -and whitewashed. They smoked and talked and looked like old senators, -self-appointed guardians of all the wisdom of Idvor. At the feet of -the old men were middle-aged men, seated upon low stools, each with a -basket in front of him, into which he peeled the yellow kernels from -the seasoned ears of corn, and this kept him busy during the evening. -The older women were seated on little stools along the wall; they -would be spinning wool, flax, or hemp. The young women would be sewing -or knitting. I, a favorite child of my mother, was allowed to sit -alongside of her and listen to the words of wisdom and words of fiction -dropping from the mouths of the old men and sometimes also from the -mouths of the middle-aged and younger men, when the old men gave them -permission to speak. At intervals the young women would sing a song -having some relation to the last tale. For instance, when one of the -old men had finished a tale about Karageorge and his historic struggles -against the Turks, the women would follow with a song describing a -brave Voyvoda of Karageorge, named Hayduk Velyko, who with a small band -of Serbians defended Negotin against a great Turkish army under Moula -Pasha. This gallant band, as the song describes them, reminds one of -the little band of Greeks at Thermopylæ.</p> - -<p>Some of the old men present at these gatherings had taken part in the -Napoleonic wars, and they remembered well also the stories which they -had heard from their fathers relating to the wars of Austria against -Frederick the Great during the eighteenth century. The middle-aged men -had participated in the fighting during the Hungarian revolution, and -the younger men had just gone through the campaigns in Italy in 1859 -and 1866. One of the old men had taken part in the battle of Aspern,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>7</span> -when Austria defeated Napoleon. He had received a high imperial -decoration for bravery, and was very proud of it. He also had gone to -Russia with an Austrian division during Napoleon’s campaign of 1812. -His name was Baba Batikin, and in the estimation of the village people -he was a seer and a prophet, because of his wonderful memory and his -extraordinary power of description. His diction was that of a guslar -(Serbian minstrel). He not only described vividly what went on in -Austria and in Russia during the Napoleonic wars in which he himself -participated, but he would also thrill his hearers by tales relating to -the Austrian campaigns against Frederick the Great, which his father -upon his return from the battle-fields of Silesia had related to him. -I remember quite well his stories relating to Karageorge of Serbia, -whom he had known personally. He called him the great Vozhd, or leader -of the Serbian peasants, and never grew weary of describing his heroic -struggles against the Turks in the beginning of the nineteenth century. -These tales about Karageorge were always received at the neighborhood -gatherings with more enthusiasm than any other of his stirring -narratives. Toward the end of the evening Baba Batikin would recite -some of the old Serbian ballads, many of which he knew by heart. During -these recitations his thin and wrinkled face would light up; it was the -face of a seer, as I remember it, and I can see now his bald head with -a wonderful brow, towering over bushy eyebrows through which the light -of his deep-set eyes would shine like the light of the moon through -the needles of an aged pine. It was from him that the good people of -Idvor learned the history of the Serb race from the battle of the field -of Kossovo in 1389 down to Karageorge. He kept alive the old Serb -traditions in the village of Idvor. He was my first and my best teacher -in history.</p> - -<p>The younger men told tales relating to Austrian campaigns<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>8</span> in Italy, -glorifying the deeds of valor of the men of Idvor in these campaigns. -The battle of Custozza in 1866, in which the military frontiersmen -nearly annihilated the Italian armies, received a great deal of -attention, because the men who described it had participated in it, -and had just returned from Italy. But I remember that every one of -those men was full of praise of Garibaldi, the leader of the Italian -people in their struggles for freedom. They called him the Karageorge -of Italy. I remember also that in my father’s house, in which these -winter-evening gatherings took place, there was a colored picture of -Garibaldi with his red shirt and a plumed hat. The picture was hung up -alongside of the Ikona, the picture of our patron saint; on the other -side of the Ikona was the picture of the Czar of Russia, who only a -few years before had emancipated the Russian serfs. In the same room -and hanging in a very conspicuous place all by itself was a picture of -Karageorge, the leader of the Serbian revolution. The picture of the -Austrian emperor was not there after 1869!</p> - -<p>The Serb ballads recited by Baba Batikin glorified the great national -hero, Prince Marko, whose combats were the combats of a strong man in -defense of the weak and of the oppressed. Marko, although a prince -of royal blood, never fought for conquest of territory. According to -the guslar, Prince Marko was a true champion of right and justice. -At that time the Civil War in America had just come to a close, and -the name of Lincoln, whenever mentioned by Baba Batikin, suggested -an American Prince Marko. The impressions which I carried away from -these neighborhood gatherings were a spiritual food which nourished -in my young mind the sentiment that the noblest thing in this world -is the struggle for right, justice, and freedom. It was the love of -freedom and of right and justice which made the Serbs of the military -frontier desert their ancestral homes in old Serbia and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>9</span> move into -Austria, where they gladly consented to live in subterranean houses and -crawl like woodchucks under the ground as long as they could enjoy the -blessings of political freedom.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The military frontiersmen had their freedom guaranteed to them by -the Privilegia, and, in exchange for their freedom, they were always -ready to fight for the Emperor of Austria on any battle-field. Loyalty -to the emperor was the cardinal virtue of the military frontiersmen. -It was that loyalty which overcame their admiration for Garibaldi in -1866; hence the Austrian victory at Custozza. The Emperor of Austria -as a guardian of their freedom received a place of honor in the -selected class of men like Prince Marko, Karageorge, Czar Alexander the -Liberator, Lincoln, and Garibaldi. These were the names recorded in the -Hall of Fame of Idvor. When, however, the emperor, in 1869, dissolved -the military frontier and delivered its people to the Hungarians, the -military frontiersmen felt that they were betrayed by the emperor, who -had broken his faith to them recorded in the Privilegia. I remember -my father saying to me one day: “Thou shalt never be a soldier in the -emperor’s army. The emperor has broken his word; the emperor is a -traitor in the eyes of the military frontiersmen. We despise the man -who is not true to his word.” This is the reason why the picture of the -Emperor of Austria was not allowed a place in my father’s house after -1869.</p> - -<p>As I look back upon those days I feel, as I always felt, that this -treacherous act of the Austrian emperor in 1869 was the beginning of -the end of the Austrian Empire. It was the beginning of nationalism in -the realm of Emperor Francis Joseph of Hapsburg. The love of the people -for the country in which they lived began to languish and finally died. -When that love dies, the country<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>10</span> also must die. This was the lesson -which I learned from the illiterate peasants of Idvor.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="olympiada"> - <img src="images/facing010-i.jpg" width="500" height="685" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">OLYMPIADA PUPIN, MOTHER OF MICHAEL PUPIN</div> - <div class="caption">From a photograph taken in 1880</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing010.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>My teacher in the village school never succeeded in making upon my -mind that profound impression which was made upon it by the men at -the neighborhood gatherings. They were men who had gone out into the -world and taken an active part in the struggles of the world. Reading, -writing, and arithmetic appeared to me like instruments of torture -which the teacher, who, in my opinion at that time, knew nothing of -the world, had invented in order to interfere as much as possible -with my freedom, particularly when I had an important engagement with -my chums and playmates. But my mother soon convinced me that I was -wrong. She could neither read nor write, and she told me that she -always felt that she was blind, in spite of the clear vision of her -eyes. So blind, indeed, that, as she expressed it, she did not dare -venture into the world much beyond the confines of my native village. -This was as far as I remember now the mode of reasoning which she -would address to me: “My boy, if you wish to go out into the world -about which you hear so much at the neighborhood gatherings, you must -provide yourself with another pair of eyes; the eyes of reading and -writing. There is so much wonderful knowledge and learning in the -world which you cannot get unless you can read and write. Knowledge -is the golden ladder over which we climb to heaven; knowledge is the -light which illuminates our path through this life and leads to a -future life of everlasting glory.” She was a very pious woman, and had -a rare knowledge of both the Old and the New Testaments. The Psalms -were her favorite recitations. She knew also the lives of saints. St. -Sava was her favorite saint. She was the first to make me understand -the story of the life of this wonderful Serb. This, briefly stated, -was the story which she told me: Sava was the youngest son of the Serb -Zhupan<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>11</span> Nemanya. At an early age he renounced his royal titles and -retired to a monastery on Mount Athos and devoted many years to study -and meditation. He then returned to his native land, in the beginning -of the thirteenth century, and became the first Serbian archbishop and -founded an autonomous Serbian church. He also organized public schools -in his father’s realm, where Serbian boys and girls had an opportunity -to learn how to read and write. Thus he opened the eyes of the Serbian -people, and the people in grateful recognition of these great services -called him St. Sava the Educator, and praised forever his saintly name -and memory. Seven hundred years had passed since St. Sava’s time, but -not one of them had passed without a memorial celebration dedicated to -him in every town and in every home where a Serb lived.</p> - -<p>This was a revelation to me. Like every schoolboy, I attended, of -course, every year in January, the celebrations of St. Sava’s day. -On these occasions we unruly boys made fun of the big boy who in a -trembling and awkward voice was reciting something about St. Sava, -which the teacher had written out for him. After this recitation, the -teacher, with a funny nasal twang, would do his best to supplement in -a badly articulated speech what he had written out for the big boy, -and finally the drowsy-looking priest would wind up with a sermon -bristling with archaic Slavonic church expressions, which to us unruly -boys sounded like awkward attempts of a Slovak mouse-trap dealer to -speak Serbian. Our giggling merriment then reached a climax, and so -my mischievous chums never gave me a chance to catch the real meaning -of the ceremonies on St. Sava’s day. My mother’s story of St. Sava -and the way in which she told it made the image of St. Sava appear -before me for the first time in the light of a saint who glorified the -value of books and of the art of writing. I understood then why mother -placed such value upon reading and writing. I vowed to devote myself to -both, even if that should make it necessary to neglect my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>12</span> chums and -playmates, and soon I convinced my mother that in reading and writing I -could do at least as well as any boy. The teacher observed the change; -he was astonished, and actually believed that a miracle had occurred. -My mother believed in miracles, and told the teacher that the spirit of -St. Sava was guiding me. One day she told him in my presence that in a -dream she saw St. Sava lay his hands upon my head, and then turning to -her say: “Daughter Piada, your boy will soon outgrow the village school -of Idvor. Let him then go out into the world, where he can find more -brain food for his hungry head.” Next year the teacher selected me to -make the recitation on St. Sava’s day, and he wrote out the speech for -me. My mother amended and amplified it and made me rehearse it for her -over and over again. On St. Sava’s day the first public speech of my -life was delivered by me. The success was overwhelming. My chums, the -unruly boys, did not giggle; on the contrary, they looked interested, -and that encouraged me much. The people said to each other that even -old Baba Batikin could not have done much better. My mother cried for -joy; my teacher shook his head, and the priest looked puzzled, and they -both admitted that I had outgrown the village school of Idvor.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At the end of that year my mother prevailed upon my father to send -me to a higher school in the town of Panchevo, on the Tamish River, -about fifteen miles south of Idvor, quite near the point where the -Tamish flows into the Danube. There I found teachers whose learning -made a deep impression upon me, particularly their learning in natural -science, a subject entirely unknown in Idvor. There I heard for the -first time that an American named Franklin, operating with a kite and -a key, had discovered that lightning was a passage of an electrical -spark between clouds, and that thunder was due to the sudden<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>13</span> expansion -of the atmosphere heated by the passage of the electrical spark. The -story was illustrated by an actual frictional electrical machine. This -information thrilled me; it was so novel and so simple, I thought, and -so contrary to all my previous notions. During my visit home I eagerly -took the first opportunity to describe this new knowledge to my father -and his peasant friends, who were seated in front of our house and were -enjoying their Sunday-afternoon talks. I suddenly observed that my -father and his friends looked at each other in utter astonishment. They -seemed to ask each other the question: “What heresy may this be which -this impudent brat is disclosing to us?” And then my father, glaring -at me, asked whether I had forgotten that he had told me on so many -occasions that thunder was due to the rumbling of St. Elijah’s car as -he drove across the heavens, and whether I thought that this American -Franklin, who played with kites like an idle boy, knew more than the -wisest men of Idvor. I always had a great respect for my father’s -opinions, but on that occasion I could not help smiling with a smile of -ill-concealed irony which angered him. When I saw the flame of anger -in his big black eyes I jumped and ran for safety. During supper my -father, whose anger had cooled considerably, described to my mother the -heresy which I was preaching on that afternoon. My mother observed that -nowhere in the Holy Scriptures could he find support of the St. Elijah -legend, and that it was quite possible that the American Franklin was -right and that the St. Elijah legend was wrong. In matters of correct -interpretation of ancient authorities my father was always ready -to abide by the decisions of my mother, and so father and I became -reconciled again. My mother’s admission of the possibility that the -American Franklin might, after all, be wiser than all the wise men of -Idvor, and my father’s silent consent, aroused in me a keen interest in -America. Lincoln and Franklin<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>14</span> were two names with which my early ideas -of America were associated.</p> - -<p>During those school-days in Panchevo I passed my summer vacation in my -native village. Idvor, just like the rest of Banat, lives principally -from agriculture, and during harvest-time it is as busy as a beehive. -Old and young, man and beast, concentrate all their efforts upon the -harvest operations. But nobody is busier than the Serbian ox. He is -the most loyal and effective servant of the Serb peasant everywhere, -and particularly in Banat. He does all the ploughing in the spring, -and he hauls the seasoned grain from the distant fertile fields to -the threshing-grounds in the village when the harvesting season is -on. The commencement of the threshing operations marks the end of the -strenuous efforts of the good old ox; his summer vacation begins, and -he is sent to pasture-lands to feed and to rest and to prepare himself -for autumn hauling of the yellow corn and for the autumn ploughing of -the fields. The village boys who are not big enough to render much help -on the threshing-grounds are assigned to the task of watching over -the grazing oxen during their summer vacation. The school vacation -of the boys coincided with the vacation of the good old ox. Several -summers I passed in that interesting occupation. These were my only -summer schools, and they were the most interesting schools that I ever -attended.</p> - -<p>The oxen of the village were divided into herds of about fifty head, -and each herd was guarded by a squad of some twelve boys from families -owning the oxen in the herd. Each squad was under the command of a -young man who was an experienced herdsman. To watch a herd of fifty -oxen was not an easy task. In daytime the job was easy, because the -heat of the summer sun and the torments of the ever-busy fly made the -oxen hug the shade of the trees, where they rested awaiting the cooler -hours of the day. At night, however, the task was much more difficult. -Being<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>15</span> forced to hug the shade of the trees during daytime, the oxen -would get but little enjoyment of the pasture, and so when the night -arrived they were quite hungry and eagerly searched for the best of -feed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I must mention now that the pasture-lands of my native village lay -alongside of territory of a score of square miles which in some years -were all planted in corn. During the months of August and September -these vast corn-fields were like deep forests. Not far from Idvor -and to the east of the corn-fields was a Rumanian settlement which -was notorious for its cattle-thieves. The trick of these thieves was -to hide in the corn-fields at night and to wait until some cattle -strayed into these fields, when they would drive them away and hide -them somewhere in their own corn-fields on the other side of their -own village. To prevent the herd from straying into the corn-fields -at night was a great task, for the performance of which the boys had -to be trained in daytime by their experienced leader. It goes without -saying that each day we boys first worked off our superfluous energy -in wrestling, swimming, hockey, and other strenuous games, and then -settled down to the training in the arts of a herdsman which we had -to practise at night. One of these arts was signalling through the -ground. Each boy had a knife with a long wooden handle. This knife -was stuck deep into the ground. A sound was made by striking against -the wooden handle, and the boys, lying down and pressing their ears -close to the ground, had to estimate the direction and the distance -of the origin of sound. Practice made us quite expert in this form -of signalling. We knew at that time that the sound travelled through -the ground far better than through the air, and that a hard and solid -ground transmitted sound much better than the ploughed-up ground. We -knew, therefore, that the sound produced this way near the edge of the -pasture-land could not be heard in the soft ground<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>16</span> of the corn-fields -stretching along the edge. A Rumanian cattle-thief, hidden at night -in the corn-fields, could not hear our ground signals and could not -locate us. Kos, the Slovenian, my teacher and interpreter of physical -phenomena, could not explain this, and I doubt very much whether the -average physicist of Europe at that time could have explained it. It is -the basis of a discovery which I made about twenty-five years after my -novel experiences in that herdsmen’s summer school in Idvor.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>On perfectly clear and quiescent summer nights on the plains of my -native Banat, the stars are intensely bright and the sky looks black -by contrast. “Thy hair is as black as the sky of a summer midnight” -is a favorite saying of a Serbian lover to his lady-love. On such -nights we could not see our grazing oxen when they were more than a -few score of feet from us, but we could hear them if we pressed our -ears close to the ground and listened. On such nights we boys had -our work cut out for us. We were placed along a definite line at -distances of some twenty yards apart. This was the dead-line, which -separated the pasture-lands from the corn-field territory. The motto -of the French at Verdun was: “They shall not pass!” This was our -motto, too, and it referred equally to our friends, the oxen, and to -our enemies, the Rumanian cattle-thieves. Our knife-blades were deep -in the ground and our ears were pressed against the handles. We could -hear every step of the roaming oxen and even their grazing operations -when they were sufficiently near to the dead-line. We knew that these -grazing operations were regulated by the time of the night, and this -we estimated by the position of certain constellations like Orion and -the Pleiades. The positions of the evening star and of the morning -star also were closely observed. Venus was our white star and Mars was -called the red star. The Dipper, the north star, and the milky way were -our compass.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>17</span> We knew also that when in the dead of the night we could -hear the faint sound of the church-bell of the Rumanian settlement -about four miles to the east of us, then there was a breeze from -the corn-fields to the pasture-lands, and that it carried the sweet -perfume of the young corn to the hungry oxen, inviting them to the -rich banquet-table of the corn-fields. On such nights our vigilance -was redoubled. We were then all eyes and ears. Our ears were closely -pressed to the ground and our eyes were riveted upon the stars above.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The light of the stars, the sound of the grazing oxen, and the faint -strokes of the distant church-bell were messages of caution which on -those dark summer nights guided our vigilance over the precious herd. -These messages appealed to us like the loving words of a friendly -power, without whose aid we were helpless. They were the only signs of -the world’s existence which dominated our consciousness as, enveloped -in the darkness of night and surrounded by countless burning stars, -we guarded the safety of our oxen. The rest of the world had gone -out of existence; it began to reappear in our consciousness when the -early dawn announced what we boys felt to be the divine command, “Let -there be light,” and the sun heralded by long white streamers began -to approach the eastern sky, and the earth gradually appeared as if -by an act of creation. Every one of those mornings of fifty years ago -appeared to us herdsmen to be witnessing the creation of the world—a -world at first of friendly sound and light messages which made us boys -feel that a divine power was protecting us and our herd, and then a -real terrestrial world, when the rising sun had separated the hostile -mysteries of night from the friendly realities of the day.</p> - -<p>Sound and light became thus associated in my early modes of thought -with the divine method of speech and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>18</span> communication, and this belief -was strengthened by my mother, who quoted the words of St. John: “In -the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was -God.”</p> - -<p>I believed also that David, some of whose Psalms, under the instruction -of my mother, I knew by heart, and who in his youth was a shepherd, -expressed my thoughts in his nineteenth Psalm:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“The heavens declare the glory of God....”</div> - </div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Then, there is no Serb boy who has not heard that beautiful Russian -song by Lyermontoff, the great Russian poet, which says:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line outdent">“Lonely I wander over the country road,</div> - <div class="line indent0">And in the darkness the stony path is glimmering;</div> - <div class="line indent0">Night is silent and the plains are whispering</div> - <div class="line indent0">To God, and star speaketh to star.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noi">Lyermontoff was a son of the Russian plains. He saw the same -burning stars in the blackness of a summer midnight sky which I saw. -He felt the same thrill which David felt and through his Psalms -transmitted to me during those watchful nights of fifty years ago. I -pity the city-bred boy who has never felt the mysterious force of that -heavenly thrill.</p> - -<p>Sound and light being associated in my young mind of fifty years ago -with divine operations by means of which man communicates with man, -beast with beast, stars with stars, and man with his Creator, it is -obvious that I meditated much about the nature of sound and of light. -I still believe that these modes of communication are the fundamental -operations in the physical universe and I am still meditating about -their nature. My teachers in Panchevo rendered some assistance in -solving many of the puzzles which I met in the course of these<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>19</span> -meditations. Kos, my Slovenian teacher, who was the first to tell me -the story of Franklin and his kite, was a great help. He soon convinced -me that sound was a vibration of bodies. This explanation agreed with -the Serbian figure of speech which says:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“My heart quivers like the melodious string under the guslar’s bow.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>I also felt the quivering air whenever during my term of service as -guardian of the oxen I tried my skill at the Serbian flute. Few things -excited my interest more than the operations of the Serbian bagpiper -as he forced the air from his sheepskin bellows and made it sing by -regulating its passage through the pipes. The operations which the -bagpiper called adjustment and tuning of the bagpipes commanded my -closest attention. I never dreamed then that a score of years later -I should do a similar operation with an electrical circuit. I called -it “electrical tuning,” a term which has been generally adopted in -wireless telegraphy. But nobody knows that the operation as well as the -name were first suggested to me by the Serbian bagpiper, some twenty -years before I made the invention in 1892.</p> - -<p>Skipping over several sections of my story, I will say now that twenty -years after my invention of electrical tuning a pupil of mine, Major -Armstrong, discovered the electrical vacuum-tube oscillator, which -promises to revolutionize wireless telegraphy and telephony. A similar -invention, but a little earlier, was made by another pupil of mine, -Mr. Vreeland. Both these inventions in their mode of operation remind -me much of the operation of Serbian bagpipes. Perhaps some of those -thrills which the Serbian bagpiper stirred up in me in my early youth -were transferred to my pupils, Armstrong and Vreeland.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I was less successful in solving my puzzles concerning the nature of -light. Kos, the Slovenian, my first guide<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>20</span> and teacher in the study of -physical phenomena, told me the story that a wise man of Greece with -the name of Aristotle believed that light originates in the eye, which -throws out feelers to the surrounding objects, and that through these -feelers we see the objects, just as we feel them by our sense of touch. -This view did not agree with the popular saying often heard in Idvor: -“Pick your grapes before sunrise, before the thirsty sunbeams have -drunk up their cooling dew.” Nor did it agree with Bishop Nyegosh, the -greatest of Serbian poets, who says:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“The bright-eyed dewdrops glide along the sunbeams - to the heavens above.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noi">The verse from Nyegosh I obtained from a Serbian poet, who was -an arch-priest, a protoyeray, and who was my religious teacher in -Panchevo. His name, Vasa Zhivkovich, I shall never forget, because it -is sweet music to my ears on account of the memories of affectionate -friendship he cherished for me.</p> - -<p>According to this popular belief a beam of light has an individual -existence just like that of the melodious string under the guslar’s -bow. But neither the poet, nor the wise men of Idvor, nor Kos the -Slovenian, ever mentioned that a beam of light ever quivered, and if it -does not quiver like a vibrating body how can the sun, the moon, and -the stars proclaim the glory of God, and how can, according to David, -their voice be heard wherever there are speech and language? These -questions Kos would not answer. No wonder! Nobody to-day can give a -completely satisfactory answer to questions relating to radiation of -light. Kos was non-committal and did not seem to attach much importance -to the authorities which I quoted; namely, the Serbian poet Nyegosh, -the wise sayings of Idvor, and the Psalms of David. Nevertheless, he -was greatly interested in my childlike inquiries and always encouraged -me to go on with my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>21</span> puzzling questions. Once he invited me to his -house, and there I found that several of his colleagues were present. -One of them was my friend the poet-priest, and another was a Hungarian -Lutheran preacher who spoke Serbian well and was famous in Panchevo -because of his great eloquence. They both engaged me in conversation -and showed a lively interest in my summer vacation experiences as -herdsman’s assistant. The puzzling questions about light which I -addressed to Kos, and the fact that Kos would not answer, amused them. -My knowledge of the Bible and of the Psalms impressed them much, and -they asked me quite a number of questions concerning my mother. Then -they suggested that I might be transferred from the school in Panchevo -to the famous schools of Prague in Bohemia, if my father and mother did -not object to my going so far away from home. When I suggested that my -parents could not afford to support me in a great place like Prague, -they assured me that this difficulty might be fixed up. I promised to -consult my parents during the approaching Christmas vacation. I did, -but found my father irresistibly opposed to it. Fate, however, decreed -otherwise.</p> - -<p>The history of Banat records a great event for the early spring of -1872, the spring succeeding the Christmas when my father and mother -agreed to disagree upon the proposition that I go to Prague. Svetozar -Miletich, the great nationalist leader of the Serbs in Austria-Hungary, -visited Panchevo, and the people prepared a torchlight procession -for him. This procession was to be a protest of Panchevo and of the -whole of Banat against the emperor’s treachery of 1869. My father had -protested long before by excluding the emperor’s picture from our -house. That visit of Miletich marks the beginning of a new political -era in Banat, the era of nationalism. The schoolboys of Panchevo turned -out in great numbers, and I was one of them, proud to become one of the -torch-bearers. We<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>22</span> shouted ourselves hoarse whenever Miletich in his -fiery speech denounced the emperor for his ingratitude to the military -frontiersmen as well as to all the Serbs of Voyvodina. Remembering my -father’s words on the occasion mentioned above, I did not hesitate to -shout in the name of the schoolboys present in the procession: “We’ll -never serve in Francis Joseph’s army!” My chums responded with: “Long -five the Prince of Serbia!” The Hungarian officials took careful notes -of the whole proceeding, and a few days later I was informed that -Panchevo was not a proper place for an ill-mannered peasant boy like -me, and that I should pack up and return to Idvor. Kos, the Slovenian, -and protoyeray Zhivkovich interfered, and I was permitted to stay.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>On the first of May, following, our school celebrated the May-day -festival. The Serb youngsters in the school, who worshipped Miletich -and his nationalism, prepared a Serbian flag for the festival march. -The other boys, mostly Germans, Rumanians, and Hungarians, carried -the Austrian yellow-black standard. The nationalist group among -the youngsters stormed the bearer of the yellow-black standard, -and I was caught in the scrimmage with the Austrian flag under my -feet. Expulsion from school stared me in the face. Again protoyeray -<a id="Zhivkovich"></a><ins title="Original has 'Zivkovich'">Zhivkovich</ins> -came to my defense and, thanks to his high -official position and to my high standing in school, I was allowed -to continue with my class until the end of the school year, after -promising that I would not associate with revolutionary boys who -showed an inclination to storm the Austrian flag. The matter did not -end there, however. In response to an invitation from the protoyeray, -father and mother came to Panchevo to a conference, which resulted in a -triumph for my mother. It was decided that I bid good-by to Panchevo, -a hotbed of nationalism, and go to Prague. The protoyeray and his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>23</span> -congregation promised assistance if the financial burden attached to my -schooling in Prague should prove too heavy for my parents.</p> - -<p>When the day for the departure for Prague arrived, my mother had -everything ready for my long journey, a journey of nearly two days on -a Danube steamboat to Budapest, and one day by rail from Budapest to -Prague. Two multicolored bags made of a beautifully colored web of -wool contained my belongings: one my linen, the other my provisions, -consisting of a whole roast goose and a big loaf of white bread. The -only suit of clothes which I had I wore on my back, and my sisters -told me that it was very stylish and made me look like a city-bred -boy. To tone down somewhat this misleading appearance and to provide -a warm covering during my journey for the cold autumn evenings and -nights, I wore a long yellow overcoat of sheepskin trimmed with black -wool and embroidered along the border with black and red arabesque -figures. A black sheepskin cap gave the finishing touch and marked -me as a real son of Idvor. When I said good-by to father and mother -on the steamboat landing I expected, of course, that my mother would -cry, and she did; but to my great surprise I noticed two big tears -roll down my father’s cheeks. He was a stern and unemotional person, -a splendid type of the heroic age, and when for the first time in my -life I saw a tear in his luminous eyes I broke down and sobbed, and -felt embarrassed when I saw that the steamboat passengers were taking a -sympathetic interest in my parting from father and mother. A group of -big boys on the boat took me up and offered to help me to orient myself -on the boat; they were theological students returning to the famous -seminary at Karlovci, the seat of the Serb Patriarch. I confided to -them that I was going to the schools of Prague, that I never had gone -from home farther than Panchevo, that I had never seen a big steamboat -or a railroad-train,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>24</span> and that my journey gave me some anxiety because -I could not speak Hungarian and had some difficulty in handling the -limited German vocabulary which I learned in Panchevo. Presently we saw -a great church-tower in the distance, and they told me that it was the -cathedral of Karlovci, and that near the cathedral was the palace of -his holiness, the Patriarch. It was at this place that the Turks begged -for peace in 1699, having been defeated with the aid of the military -frontiersmen. Beyond Karlovci, they pointed out, was the mountain of -Frushka Gora, famous in Serbian poetry. This was the first time I saw -a mountain at close range. One historical scene crowded upon another, -and I had some difficulty to take them all in even with the friendly -assistance of my theological acquaintances. When Karlovci was reached -and my theological friends left the boat, I felt quite lonesome. -I returned to my multicolored bags, and as I looked upon them and -remembered that mother had made them I felt that a part, at least, of -my honey-hearted home was so near me, and that consoled me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I noticed that lunch was being served to people who had ordered it, -and I thought of the roast goose which mother had packed away in my -multicolored bag. I reached for the bag, but, alas! the goose was gone. -A fellow passenger, who sat near me, assured me that he saw one of the -young theologians carry the goose away while the other theologians -engaged me in conversation, and not knowing to whom the bags belonged, -he thought nothing of the incident. Besides, how could any one suspect -a student of theology? “Shades of St. Sava,” said I, “what kind of -orthodoxy will these future apostles of your faith preach to the Serbs -of Banat?” “Ah, my boy,” said an elderly lady who heard my exclamation, -“do not curse them; they did it just out of innocent mischief. This -experience will be worth many a roast goose<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>25</span> to you; it will teach you -that in a world of strangers you must always keep one eye on what you -have and with the other eye look out for things that you do not have.” -She was a most sympathetic peasant woman, who probably had seen my -dramatic parting with father and mother on the steamboat landing. I -took her advice, and during the rest of my journey I never lost sight -of my multicolored bags and of my yellow sheepskin coat.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The sight of Budapest, as the boat approached it on the following day, -nearly took my breath away. At the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor -I had heard many a story about the splendor of the emperor’s palace -on the top of the mountain at Buda, and about the wonders of a bridge -suspended in air across the Danube and connecting Buda with Pest. Many -legends were told in Idvor concerning these wonderful things. But what -I saw with my own eyes from the deck of that steamboat surpassed all -my expectations. I was overawed, and for a moment I should have been -glad to turn back and retrace my journey to Idvor. The world outside -of Idvor seemed too big and too complicated for me. But as soon as I -landed my courage returned. With the yellow sheepskin coat on my back, -the black sheepskin cap on my head, and the multicolored bags firmly -grasped in my hands, I started out to find the railroad-station. A -husky Serb passed by and, attracted by my sheepskin coat and cap and -the multicolored bags, suddenly stopped and addressed me in Serbian. He -lived in Budapest, he said, and his glad eye and hand assured me that -a sincere friend was speaking to me. He helped me with the bags and -stayed with me until he deposited me in the train that was to take me -to Prague. He cautioned me that at about four o’clock in the morning -my train would reach Gaenserndorf (Goosetown), and that there I should -get out and get another train which would take me to Prague.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>26</span> The name -of this town brought back to memory my goose which had disappeared at -Karlovci, and gloomy forebodings disturbed my mind and made me a little -anxious.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This was the first railroad-train that I had ever seen. It disappointed -me; the legendary speed of trains about which I had heard so much in -Idvor was not there. When the whistle blew and the conductor shouted -“Fertig!” (Ready!), I shut my eyes and waited anxiously, expecting to -be shot forward at a tremendous speed. But the train started leisurely -and, to my great disappointment, never reached the speeds which I -expected. It was a cold October night; the third-class compartment had -only one other passenger, a fat Hungarian whom I could not understand, -although he tried his best to engage me in a conversation. My sheepskin -coat and cap made me feel warm and comfortable; I fell asleep, and -never woke up until the rough conductor pulled me off my seat and -ordered me out.</p> - -<p>“Vienna, last stop,” he shouted.</p> - -<p>“But I was going to Prague,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Then you should have changed at Gaenserndorf, you idiot!” answered -the conductor, with the usual politeness of Austrian officials when -they see a Serb before them. “But why didn’t you wake me up at -Gaenserndorf?” I protested. He flared up and made a gesture as if about -to box my ears, but suddenly he changed his mind and substituted a -verbal thrust at my pride. “You little fool of a Serbian swineherd, do -you expect an imperial official to assist you in your lazy habits you -sleepy mutton-head?”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me,” I said with an air of wounded pride, “I am not a Serbian -swineherd; I am a son of a brave military frontiersman, and I am going -to the famous schools of Prague.”</p> - -<p>He softened, and told me that I should have to go back<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>27</span> to Gaenserndorf -after paying my fare to that place and back. When I informed him that I -had no money for extra travelling expenses, he beckoned to me to come -along, and after a while we stood in the presence of what I thought to -be a very great official. He had a lot of gold braid on his collar and -sleeves and on his cap, and he looked as stern and as serious as if the -cares of the whole empire rested upon his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Take off your cap, you ill-mannered peasant! Don’t you know how to -behave in the presence of your superiors?” he blurted out, addressing -me. I dropped my multicolored bags, took off my yellow sheepskin coat -in order to cover the bags, and then took off my black sheepskin cap, -and saluted him in the regular fashion of a military frontiersman. I -thought that he might be the emperor himself and, if so, I wondered if -he had ever heard of my trampling upon his yellow-black flag at that -May-day festival in Panchevo. Finally, I screwed up my courage and -apologized by saying:</p> - -<p>“Your gracious Majesty will pardon my apparent lack of respect to my -superiors, but this is to me a world of strangers, and the anxiety -about my belongings kept my hands busy with the bags and prevented -me from taking off my cap when I approached your serene Highness.” I -noticed that several persons within hearing distance were somewhat -amused by this interview, and particularly an elderly looking couple, a -lady and a gentleman:</p> - -<p>“Why should you feel anxious about your bags?” said the great official. -“You are not in the savage Balkans, the home of thieves; you are in -Vienna, the residence of his Majesty, the Emperor of Austria-Hungary.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said I, “but two days ago my roast goose was stolen from one of -these bags within his Majesty’s realm, and my father told me that all -the rights and privileges of the Voyvodina and of the military frontier -were stolen right here in this very Vienna.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>28</span> -“Ah, you little rebel, do you expect that this sort of talk will -get you a free transportation from Gaenserndorf to Vienna and back -again? Restrain your rebellious tongue or I will give you a free -transportation back to your military frontier, where rebels like you -ought to be behind lock and key.”</p> - -<p>At this juncture the elderly looking couple engaged him in -conversation, and after a while the gold-braided mogul informed me that -my ticket from Vienna to Prague by the short route was paid for, and -that I should proceed. The rude conductor, who had called me a Serbian -swineherd a little while before, led me to the train and ushered me -politely into a first-class compartment. Presently the elderly looking -couple entered and greeted me in a most friendly, almost affectionate, -manner. They encouraged me to take off my sheepskin coat and make -myself comfortable, and assured me that my bags would be perfectly safe.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Their German speech had a strange accent, and their manner and -appearance were entirely different from anything that I had ever seen -before. But they inspired confidence. Feeling hungry, I took my loaf -of snowy-white bread out of my bag, and with my herdsman’s knife with -a long wooden handle I cut off two slices and offered them to my new -friends. “Please, take it,” said I; “it was prepared by my mother’s -hands for my long journey.” They accepted my hospitality and ate the -bread and pronounced it excellent, the best bread they had ever tasted. -I told them how it was made by mixing leaf-lard and milk with the -finest wheat flour, and when I informed them that I knew a great deal -about cooking and that I had learned it by watching my mother, the -lady appeared greatly pleased. The gentleman, her husband, asked me -questions about farming and taking care of animals, which I answered -readily, quoting my father as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>29</span> my authority. “You had two splendid -teachers, your father and your mother,” they said; “do you expect to -find better teachers in Prague?” I told them briefly what had sent -me to Prague, mentioning particularly that some people thought that -I had outgrown the schools not only of my native village but also of -Panchevo, but that in reality the main reason was because the Hungarian -officials did not want me in Panchevo on account of my showing a strong -inclination to develop into a rebellious nationalist. My new friends -gave each other a significant look and said something in a language -which I did not understand. They told me that it was English, and added -that they were from America.</p> - -<p>“America!” said I, quivering with emotion. “Then you must know a lot -about Benjamin Franklin and his kite, and about Lincoln, the American -Prince Marko.”</p> - -<p>This exclamation of mine surprised them greatly and furnished the -topic for a lively conversation of several hours, until the train had -reached Prague. It was conducted in broken German, but we understood -each other perfectly. I told them of my experience with Franklin’s -theory of lightning, and of its clash with my father’s St. Elijah -legend, and answered many of their questions relating to my calling -Lincoln an American Prince Marko. I quoted from several Serbian ballads -relating to Prince Marko which I had learned from Baba Batikin, and -at their urgent request described with much detail the neighborhood -gatherings in Idvor. They returned the compliment by telling me stories -of Benjamin Franklin, of Lincoln, and of America, and urged me to read -“Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” a translation of which I discovered some time -afterward. When the train reached Prague they insisted that I be their -guest at their Prague hotel, called the Blue Star, for a day, at least, -until I found my friends in Prague. I gladly accepted, and spent a -delightful evening with them. The sweetness of their disposition<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>30</span> was -an unfathomable riddle to me. The riddle, however, was solved several -years later.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I mentioned above that the first sight of Budapest nearly took my -breath away. The first view of Prague filled me with a strange -religious fervor. The ancient gates, surmounted by towers with -wonderful stone carvings and inscriptions; the lofty domes, crowning -mediæval cathedrals, the portals of which were bristling with beautiful -images of saints; the historic public buildings, each of which told a -story of the old glories of Bohemia’s kingdom; the ancient stone bridge -across the Moldava River, supporting statues of Christian martyrs; -the royal palace on the hill of Hradchin, which seemed to rise way up -above the clouds—all these, and many other wonderful things, made me -feel that it was places like Prague which St. Sava visited when he -deserted his royal parents and went to the end of the world to seek new -knowledge. I saw then why the protoyeray of Panchevo had suggested that -I go to Prague; I even began to suspect that he expected the influence -of Prague to turn my attention to theology. I think now that it would -have done so if it had not been for that unpleasant goose incident at -Karlovci. Besides, there was another influence at Prague, which was -more powerful than any other influence in the Austrian Empire at that -time.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The sights of Prague interested me more than its famous schools, which -I was to enter and delayed entering. But finally I was enrolled, and -the boys in the school scrutinized me with a puzzled expression, as -if they could not make out what country or clime I came from. When -they found out that I hailed from the Serb military frontier, all -uncertainty vanished, and I knew exactly where I stood. The German -boys became very cold, the Czech boys greeted me in their own tongue -and hugged me<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>31</span> when by my Serbian answer I proved not only that I -understood them but also that I expected them to understand my Serbian -greeting. They were all nationalists to the core and did their best to -make me join their ranks, which, after some reluctance, I finally did. -I showed them then two letters from protoyeray Zhivkovich introducing -me to Rieger and to Palacky, the great apostles of Panslavism and of -nationalism in Bohemia. From that day on I was one of their young -revolutionary set, and henceforth school lessons looked tame and lost -most of their charm to me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The German victory in France two years prior to that time, resulting as -it did in the creation of a united Germany, had encouraged Teutonism to -run riot wherever it met a current opposing it, as it did in Prague. -Nationalism in Bohemia was a reaction against Austrian Teutonism in -those days, just as it was a reaction against Magyarism in Voyvodina -and in the military frontier. Hardly a day passed without serious -clashes between the Czech nationalist boys and their German classmates. -That which made my stay in Panchevo impossible met me in Prague in an -even more violent form. Loyal to the traditions of the Serbian military -frontiersmen, I liked nothing better than a good fight, and I had the -physique and the practice, gained in the pasturelands of Idvor, to lick -any German boy of my age or even older. The German pupils feared me, -and the German teachers condemned what they called my revolutionary -tendencies, and threatened to send me back to Idvor. As time went on, -I began to wish that they would expel me and give me a good excuse to -return to Idvor. I missed the wide horizon of the plains of Banat in -the narrow streets of Prague. My little bedroom in a garret, the only -living quarters that I could afford, was a sad contrast to my mode of -life on the endless plains of Banat, where for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>32</span> six weeks each summer -I had lived under the wide canopy of heaven, watching the grazing -oxen, gazing upon the countless stars at night, and listening to the -sweet strains of the Serbian flute. The people I met on the streets -were puffed up with Teutonic pride or with official arrogance; they -had none of the gentle manliness and friendliness of the military -frontiersmen. The teachers looked to me more like Austrian gendarmes -than like sympathetic friends. They cared more for my sentiments toward -the emperor and for my ideas about nationalism than for my ideas -relating to God and his beautiful world of life and light. Not one of -them reminded me of Kos, the Slovenian, or of protoyeray Zhivkovich in -Panchevo. Race antagonism was at that time the ruling passion. If it -had not been for the affectionate regard which the Czech boys and their -parents had for me I should have felt most lonesome; from Banat to -Prague was too sudden a change for me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Another circumstance I must mention now which helped to brace me up. I -delivered, after many months of delay, my letters of introduction to -Rieger and to Palacky. I saw their pictures, I read about them, and -finally I heard them address huge nationalist meetings. They were great -men, I thought, and I could not screw up sufficient courage to call -on them, as the protoyeray wished me to do, and waste their precious -time on my account. But when I received a letter from the protoyeray -in Panchevo asking why I had not delivered the letters of introduction -he had given me, I made the calls. Rieger looked like my father: dark, -stern, reserved, powerful of physique, with a wonderful luminosity in -his eyes. He gave me coffee and cake, consuming a generous supply of -them himself. When I kissed his hand, bidding him good-by, he gave -me a florin for pocket-money, patted me on the cheek, and assured me -that I could easily come<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>33</span> up to the protoyeray’s expectations and -surprise my teachers if I would only spend more time on my books and -less on my nationalist chums. This suggestion and indirect advice -made me very thoughtful. Palacky was a gentle, smooth-faced, old -gentleman, who looked to me then as if he knew everything that men -had ever known, and that much study had made him pale and delicate. -He was much interested in my description of the life and customs of -my native village, and when I mentioned St. Sava, he drew a parallel -between this saint and Yan Huss, the great Czech patriot and divine, -who was burned at the stake in 1415 at Constance because he demanded -a national democratic church in Bohemia. He gave me a book in which I -could read all about Huss and the Hussite wars and about the one-eyed -Zhizhka, the great Hussite general. He gave me no coffee nor cake, -probably because his health did not permit him to indulge in eatables -between meals, but assured me of assistance if I should ever need it. I -eagerly read the book about Yan Huss and the Hussite wars, and became -a more enthusiastic nationalist than ever before. I felt that Rieger’s -influence pulled me in one direction, and that Palacky encouraged me -to persist in the opposite direction which I had selected under the -influence of the spirit of Czech nationalism.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In my letters to my elder sisters, which they read to father and -mother, I described with much detail the beauties and wonders of -Prague, my receptions and talks with Rieger and Palacky, and elaborated -much the parallel between St. Sava and Yan Huss to which Palacky had -drawn my attention, and which I expected would please my mother; but -I never mentioned Rieger’s advice that I stick to books and leave the -nationalist propaganda of the boys alone. I never during my whole -year’s stay in Prague sent a report home on my school work, because I -never did more than just enough to prevent my dropping<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>34</span> to the lower -grade. My mother and the protoyeray in Panchevo expected immeasurably -more. Hence, I never complained about the smallness of the allowance -which my parents could give me, and, therefore, they did not appeal to -my Panchevo friends for the additional help which they had promised. -I felt that I had no right to make such an appeal, because I did not -devote myself entirely to the work for which I was sent to Prague.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>While debating with myself whether to follow Rieger’s advice and leave -nationalism in the hands of more experienced people and devote myself -to my lessons only, an event occurred which was the turning-point in my -life. I received a letter from my sister informing me that my father -had died suddenly after a very brief illness. She told me also that my -father had had a premonition that he would die soon and never see me -again when, a year before, he bade me good-by on the steamboat landing. -I understood then the meaning of the tears which on that day of parting -I had seen roll down his cheeks for the first time in my life. I -immediately informed my mother that I wanted to return to Idvor and -help her take care of my father’s land. But she would not listen, and -insisted that I stay in Prague, where I was seeing and learning so many -wonderful things. I knew quite well what a heavy burden my schooling -would be to her, and my school record did not entitle me to expect the -protoyeray to make his promise of assistance good. I decided to find -a way of relieving my mother of any further burdens so far as I was -concerned.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>One day I saw on the last page of an illustrated paper an advertisement -of the Hamburg-American line, offering steerage transportation -from Hamburg to New York for twenty-eight florins. I thought of my -mellow-hearted American friends of the year before who bought a -first-class<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>35</span> railroad-ticket for me from Vienna to Prague, and decided -on the spot to try my fortune in the land of Franklin and Lincoln as -soon as I could save up and otherwise scrape up money enough to carry -me from Prague to New York. My books, my watch, my clothes, including -the yellow sheepskin coat and the black sheepskin cap, were all sold to -make up the sum necessary for travelling expenses. I started out with -just one suit of clothes on my back and a few changes of linen, and a -red Turkish fez which nobody would buy. And why should anybody going to -New York bother about warm clothes? Was not New York much farther south -than Panchevo, and does not America suggest a hot climate when one -thinks of the pictures of naked Indians so often seen? These thoughts -consoled me when I parted with my sheepskin coat. At length I came to -Hamburg, ready to embark but with no money to buy a mattress and a -blanket for my bunk in the steerage. Several days later my ship, the -<i>Westphalia</i>, sailed—on the twelfth day of March, 1874. My mother -received several days later my letter, mailed in Hamburg, telling her -in most affectionate terms that, in my opinion, I had outgrown the -school, the teachers, and the educational methods of Prague, and was -about to depart for the land of Franklin and Lincoln, where the wisdom -of people was beyond anything that even St. Sava had ever known. I -assured her that with her blessing and God’s help I should certainly -succeed, and promised that I would soon return rich in rare knowledge -and in honors. The letter was dictated by the rosiest optimism that I -could invent. Several months later I found to my great delight that -my mother had accepted cheerfully this rosy view of my unexpected -enterprise.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="idvor"> - <img src="images/facing036-i.jpg" width="500" height="684" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">THE VILLAGE CHURCH IN IDVOR</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing036.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>The ship sailed with a full complement of steerage passengers, mostly -Germans. As we glided along the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>36</span> River Elbe the emigrants were all -on deck, watching the land as it gradually vanished from our sight. -Presently the famous German emigrant song rang through the air, and -with a heavy heart I took in the words of its refrain:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line outdent">“Oh, how hard it would be to leave the homeland shores</div> - <div class="line indent0">If the hope did not live that soon we shall see them again.</div> - <div class="line indent0">Farewell, farewell, until we see you again.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noi">I did not wait for the completion of the song, but turned in, -and in my bare bunk I sought to drown my sadness in a flood of tears. -Idvor, with its sunny fields, vineyards, and orchards; with its grazing -herds of cattle and flocks of sheep; with its beautiful church-spire -and the solemn ringing of church-bells; with its merry boys and girls -dancing to the tune of the Serbian bagpipes the Kolo on the village -green—Idvor, with all the familiar scenes that I had ever seen there, -appeared before my tearful eyes, and in the midst of them I saw my -mother listening to my sister reading slowly the letter which I had -sent to her from Hamburg. Every one of these scenes seemed to start a -new shower of tears, which finally cleared the oppressiveness of my -spiritual atmosphere. I thought that I could hear my mother say to my -sister: “God bless him for his affectionate letter. May the spirit of -St. Sava guide him in the land beyond the seas! I know that he will -make good his promises.” Sadness deserted me then and I felt strong -again.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He who has never crossed the stormy Atlantic during the month of -March in the crowded steerage of an immigrant ship does not know -what hardships are. I bless the stars that the immigration laws were -different then than they are now, otherwise I should not be among the -living. To stand the great hardships of a stormy sea when the rosy -picture of the promised land is before your mind’s eye is a severe -test for any boy’s nerve and physical stamina; but to face the same -hardships as a deported and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>37</span> penniless immigrant with no cheering -prospect in sight is too much for any person, unless that person is -entirely devoid of every finer sensibility. Many a night I spent on the -deck of that immigrant ship hugging the warm smoke-stack and adjusting -my position so as to avoid the force of the gale and the sharpness of -its icy chilliness. All I had was the light suit of clothes which I -carried on my back. Everything else I had converted into money with -which to cover my transportation expenses. There was nothing left -to pay for a blanket and mattress for my steerage bunk. I could not -rest there during the cold nights of March without much shivering and -unbearable discomfort. If it had not been for the warm smoke-stack I -should have died of cold. At first I had to fight for my place there -in the daytime, but when the immigrants understood that I had no warm -clothing they did not disturb me any longer. I often thought of my -yellow sheepskin coat and the black sheepskin cap, and understood -more clearly than ever my mother’s far-sightedness when she provided -that coat and cap for my long journeys. A blast of the everlasting -gales had carried away my hat, and a Turkish fez such as the Serbs of -Bosnia wear was the only head-gear I had. It was providential that I -had not succeeded in selling it in Prague. Most of my fellow emigrants -thought that I was a Turk and cared little about my discomforts. But, -nevertheless, I felt quite brave and strong in the daytime; at night, -however, when, standing alone alongside of the smoke-stack, I beheld -through the howling darkness the white rims of the mountain-high waves -speeding on like maddened dragons toward the tumbling ship, my heart -sank low. It was my implicit trust in God and in his regard for my -mother’s prayers which enabled me to overcome my fear and bravely face -the horrors of the angry seas.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>On the fourteenth day, early in the morning, the flat coast-line of -Long Island hove in sight. Nobody in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>38</span> motley crowd of excited -immigrants was more happy to see the promised land than I was. It was -a clear, mild, and sunny March morning, and as we approached New York -Harbor the warm sun-rays seemed to thaw out the chilliness which I had -accumulated in my body by continuous exposure to the wintry blasts -of the North Atlantic. I felt like a new person, and saw in every -new scene presented by the New World as the ship moved into it a new -promise that I should be welcome. Life and activity kept blossoming -out all along the ship’s course, and seemed to reach full bloom as we -entered New York Harbor. The scene which was then unfolded before my -eyes was most novel and bewildering. The first impressions of Budapest -and of Prague seemed like pale-faced images of the grand realities -which New York Harbor disclosed before my eager eyes. A countless -multitude of boats lined each shore of the vast river; all kinds of -craft ploughed hurriedly in every direction through the waters of the -bay; great masses of people crowded the numerous ferry-boats, and gave -me the impression that one crowd was just about as anxious to reach -one shore of the huge metropolis as the other was to reach the other -shore; they all must have had some important thing to do, I thought. -The city on each side of the shore seemed to throb with activity. I did -not distinguish between New York and Jersey City. Hundreds of other -spots like the one I beheld, I thought, must be scattered over the vast -territories of the United States, and in these seething pots of human -action there must be some one activity, I was certain, which needed me. -This gave me courage. The talk which I had listened to during two weeks -on the immigrant ship was rather discouraging, I thought. One immigrant -was bragging about his long experience as a cabinetmaker, and informed -his audience that cabinetmakers were in great demand in America; -another one was telling long tales about his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>39</span> skill as a mechanician; a -third one was spinning out long yarns about the fabulous agricultural -successes of his relatives out West, who had invited him to come there -and join them; a fourth confided to the gaping crowd that his brother, -who was anxiously waiting for him, had a most prosperous bank in some -rich mining-camp in Nevada where people never saw any money except -silver and gold and hardly ever a coin smaller than a dollar; a fifth -one, who had been in America before, told us in a rather top-lofty way -that no matter who you were or what you knew or what you had you would -be a greenhorn when you landed in the New World, and a greenhorn has -to serve his apprenticeship before he can establish his claim to any -recognition. He admitted, however, that immigrants with a previous -practical training, or strong pull through relatives and friends, had -a shorter apprenticeship. I had no practical training, and I had no -relatives nor friends nor even acquaintances in the New World. I had -nothing of any immediate value to offer to the land I was about to -enter. That thought had discouraged me as I listened to the talks of -the immigrants; but the activity which New York Harbor presented to my -eager eyes on that sunny March day was most encouraging.</p> - -<p>Presently the ship passed by Castle Garden, and I heard some one say: -“There is the Gate to America.” An hour or so later we all stood at -the gate. The immigrant ship, <i>Westphalia</i>, landed at Hoboken -and a tug took us to Castle Garden. We were carefully examined and -cross-examined, and when my turn came the examining officials shook -their heads and seemed to find me wanting. I confessed that I had only -five cents in my pocket and had no relatives here, and that I knew of -nobody in this country except Franklin, Lincoln, and Harriet Beecher -St owe, whose “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” I had read in a translation. One of -the officials, who had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>40</span> one leg only, and walked with a crutch, seemed -much impressed by this remark, and looking very kindly into my eyes -and with a merry twinkle in his eye he said in German: “You showed -good taste when you picked your American acquaintances.” I learned -later that he was a Swiss who had served in the Union army during the -Civil War. I confessed also to the examining officials that I had no -training in the arts and crafts, but that I was anxious to learn, and -that this desire had brought me to America. In answer to the question -why I had not stayed at home or in Prague to learn instead of wandering -across the sea with so little on my back and nothing in my pocket, I -said that the Hungarian and Austrian authorities had formed a strong -prejudice against me on account of my sympathies with people, and -particularly with my father, who objected to being cheated out of -their ancient rights and privileges which the emperor had guaranteed -to them for services which they had been rendering to him loyally -for nearly two hundred years. I spoke with feeling, and I felt that -I made an impression upon the examiners, who did not look to me like -officials such as I was accustomed to see in Austria-Hungary. They had -no gold and silver braid and no superior airs but looked very much like -ordinary civilian mortals. That gave me courage and confidence, and I -spoke frankly and fearlessly, believing firmly that I was addressing -human beings who had a heart which was not held in bondage by cast-iron -rules invented by their superiors in authority. The Swiss veteran who -walked on crutches, having lost one of his legs in the Civil War, was -particularly attentive while I was being cross-examined, and nodded -approvingly whenever I scored a point with my answers. He whispered -something to the other officials, and they finally informed me that -I could pass on, and I was conducted promptly to the Labor Bureau -of Castle Garden. My Swiss friend looked me up a little later and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>41</span> -informed me that the examiners had made an exception in my favor and -admitted me, and that I must look sharp and find a job as soon as -possible.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As I sat in the Labor Bureau waiting for somebody to come along and -pick me out as a worthy candidate for some job, I could not help -surveying those of my fellow immigrants who, like myself, sat there -waiting for a job. I really believed that they were in a class below -me, and yet they had had no trouble in being admitted. They had not -needed favors on the part of the officials in order to be admitted. -I had, and therefore, I inferred, they must have appeared to the -officials to be more desirable. It was true, I said, arguing with -myself, that they had a definite trade; they undoubtedly had some -money; and they certainly looked more prosperous than I did, judging -by their clothes. But why should the possession of a trade, of money, -or of clothes stand so much higher in America than it did in Idvor, -my native village? We had a blacksmith, a wheelwright, and a barber -in Idvor; they were our craftsmen; and we had a Greek storekeeper who -had a lot of money and wore expensive city-made clothes, but there -was not one respectable Serb peasant in Idvor, no matter how poor, -who did not think that he was superior to these people who had only -a transient existence in our historic village. The knowledge of our -traditions and our implicit belief in them made us feel superior -to people who wandered about like gypsies with no traditions, and -with nothing to anchor them to a definite place. A newcomer to our -village was closely scrutinized, and he was judged not so much by his -skill in a craft, nor by his money, nor by his clothes, but by his -personality, by the reputation of his family, and by the traditions of -the people to whom he belonged. The examiners at Castle Garden seemed -to attach no importance to these things, because they did not ask me -a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>42</span> single question concerning my family, the history of my village, -or the history of the military frontier and of the Serb race. It was -no wonder, said I, consoling myself, that I appeared to them less -desirable than many of the other immigrants who would never have been -allowed to settle in Idvor, and whose society on the immigrant ship had -interested me so little, and, in fact, had often been repulsive to me, -because I could not help considering many of them a sort of spiritual -muckers. My admission by a special favor of the examiners was a puzzle -and a disappointment to me, but it did not destroy the firmness of my -belief that I brought to America something which the examiners were -either unable or did not care to find out, but which, nevertheless, I -valued very highly, and that was: a knowledge of and a profound respect -and admiration for the best traditions of my race. My mother and the -illiterate peasants at the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor had taught -me that; no other lesson had ever made a deeper impression upon me.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>43</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="ii">II<br /> -<span>THE HARDSHIPS OF A GREENHORN</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">My</span> first night under the Stars and Stripes was spent in Castle Garden. -It was a glorious night, I thought; no howling of the gales, no -crashing of the waves, and no tumbling motion of the world beneath my -feet, such as I had experienced on the immigrant ship. The feeling of -being on <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">terra firma</i> sank deep into my consciousness and I slept -the sound sleep of a healthy youth, although my bed was a bare floor. -The very early morning saw me at my breakfast, enjoying a huge bowl of -hot coffee and a big chunk of bread with some butter, supplied by the -Castle Garden authorities at Uncle Sam’s expense. Then I started out, -eager to catch a glimpse of great New York, feeling, in the words of -the psalmist, “as a strong man ready to run a race.” An old lady sat -near the gate of Castle Garden offering cakes and candies for sale. -A piece of prune pie caught my eye, and no true Serb can resist the -allurements of prunes. It is a national sweetmeat. I bought it, paying -five cents for it, the only money I had, and then I made a bee-line -across Battery Park, at the same time attending to my pie. My first -bargain in America proved a failure. The prune pie was a deception; -it was a prune pie filled with prune pits, and I thought of the words -of my fellow passenger on the immigrant ship who had said: “No matter -who you are or what you know or what you have you will be a greenhorn -when you land in America.” The prune-pie transaction whispered into -my ear: “Michael, you are a greenhorn; this is the first experience -in your life as a greenhorn. Cheer up! Get ready to serve your -apprenticeship as a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>44</span> greenhorn before you can establish your claim to -any recognition,” repeating the words of my prophetic fellow passenger -who had served his apprenticeship in America. No prophet ever uttered a -truer word.</p> - -<p>The old Stevens House, a white building with green window-shutters, -stood at the corner of Broadway and Bowling Green. When I reached -this spot and saw the busy beehive called Broadway, with thousands -of telegraph-wires stretching across it like a cobweb between huge -buildings, I was overawed, and wondered what it meant. Neither -Budapest, nor Prague, nor Hamburg had looked anything like it. My -puzzled and panicky expression and the red fez on my head must have -attracted considerable attention, because suddenly I saw myself -surrounded by a small crowd of boys of all sizes, jeering and laughing -and pointing at my fez. They were newsboys and bootblacks, who appeared -to be anxious to have some fun at my expense. I was embarrassed and -much provoked, but controlled my Serbian temper. Presently one of the -bigger fellows walked up to me and knocked the fez off my head. I -punched him on the nose and then we clinched. My wrestling experiences -on the pasturelands of Idvor came to my rescue. The bully was down in a -jiffy, and his chums gave a loud cheer of ringing laughter. I thought -it was a signal for general attack, but they did not touch me nor -interfere in any way. They acted like impartial spectators, anxious to -see that the best man won. Suddenly I felt a powerful hand pulling me -up by the collar, and when I looked up I saw a big official with a club -in his hand and a fierce expression in his eye. He looked decidedly -unfriendly, but after listening to the appeals of the newsboys and -bootblacks who witnessed the fight he softened and handed me my fez. -The boys who a little while before had jeered and tried to guy me, -evidently appealed in my behalf when the policeman interfered. They -had actually become<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>45</span> my friends. When I walked away toward Castle -Garden, with my red fez proudly cocked up on my head, the boys cheered. -I thought to myself that the unpleasant incident was worth my while, -because it taught me that I was in a country where even among the -street urchins there was a strong sentiment in favor of fair play even -to a Serbian greenhorn. America was different from Austria-Hungary. -I never forgot the lesson and never had a single reason to change my -opinion.</p> - -<p>A gentleman who had witnessed the fight joined me on my return trip to -Castle Garden, and when we reached the employment bureau he offered -me a job. When I learned that one of my daily duties would be to -milk a cow, I refused. According to Serb traditions, milking a cow -is decidedly a feminine job. Another gentleman, a Swiss foreman on a -Delaware farm, offered me another job, which was to drive a team of -mules and help in the work of hauling things to the field preparatory -for spring planting. I accepted gladly, feeling confident that I knew -all about driving animals, although I had never even seen a mule in -all my experiences in Idvor. We left for Philadelphia that forenoon -and caught there the early afternoon boat for Delaware City, where we -arrived late in the afternoon.</p> - -<p>As we passed through Philadelphia I asked the Swiss foreman whether -that was the place where a hundred years before famous Benjamin -Franklin flew his kite, and he answered that he had never heard of -the gentleman, and that I must have meant William Penn. “No,” said I, -“because I never heard of this gentleman.” “You have still to learn a -thing or two about American history,” said the Swiss foreman, with a -superior air. “Yes, indeed,” I said, “and I intend to do it as soon -as I have learned a thing or two about the English language”; and I -wondered whether the Swiss foreman who had never heard of Benjamin -Franklin and his kite had really<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>46</span> learned a thing or two in American -history, although he had lived some fifteen years in the United States.</p> - -<p>There were quite a number of farmers on the Delaware boat, every one -of them wearing a long goatee but no mustache; such was the fashion -at that time. Every one of them had the brim of his slouch hat turned -down, covering his eyes completely. As they conversed they looked -like wooden images; they made no gestures and I could not catch the -expression of their hidden eyes; without these powerful aids to -the understanding of the spoken word I could not make out a single -syllable in their speech. The English language sounded to me like an -inarticulate mode of speech, just as inarticulate as the joints of -those imperturbable Delaware farmers. I wondered whether I should ever -succeed in learning a thing or two in this most peculiar tongue. I -thought of the peasants at the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor, and of -their winged words, each of which found its way straight into my soul. -There also appeared before my mental vision the image of Baba Batikin, -with fire in his eye and a vibratory movement of his hand accompanying -his stirring tales of Prince Marko. How different and how superior -those peasants of Idvor appeared to me when I compared them with the -farmers on that Delaware boat! “Impossible,” said I, “that a Serb -peasant should be so much superior to the American peasant!” Something -wrong with my judgment, thought I, and I charged it to my being a -greenhorn and unable to size up an American farmer.</p> - -<p>At the boat-landing in Delaware City a farm-wagon was awaiting us, and -we reached the farm at supper-time. The farm-buildings were fully a -mile from the town, standing all by themselves; there was no village -and there were no neighbors, and the place looked to me like a camp. -There was no village life among American farmers, I was told, and -I understood then why those farmers on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>47</span> Delaware boat were so -devoid of all animation. The farm-hands were all young fellows, but -considerably older than myself, and when the foreman introduced me to -them, by my Christian name, I found that most of them spoke German with -a Swiss accent, the same which the foreman had who brought me from New -York. One of them asked me how long I had been in the country, and when -I told him that I was about twenty-four hours in the country, he smiled -and said that he thought so, evidently on account of the unmistakable -signs of a greenhorn which he saw all over me.</p> - -<p>The first impression of an American farm was dismal. In the messroom, -however, where supper was served, everything was neat and lovely, and -the supper looked to me like a holiday feast. I became more reconciled -to the American farm. The farm-hands ate much and spoke very little, -and when they finished they left the dining-room without any ceremony. -I was left alone, and moved my chair close to a warm stove and waited -for somebody to tell me what to do next. Presently two women came in -and proceeded to clear the supper-table; they spoke English and seemed -to pay no attention to me. They probably thought that I was homesick -and avoided disturbing me. Presently I saw a young girl, somewhat -younger than myself. She pretended to be helping the women, but I soon -discovered that she had another mission. Her appearance reminded me of -a young Vila, a Serbian fairy, who in the old Serbian ballads plays a -most wonderful part. No hero ever perished through misfortune who had -the good fortune to win the friendship of a Vila. Supernatural both in -intelligence and in physical skill, the Vilæ could always find a way -out of every difficulty. I felt certain that if there ever was a Vila -this young girl was one. Her luminous blue eyes, her finely chiselled -features, and her graceful movements made a strange impression upon me. -I imagined that she could<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>48</span> hear the faintest sound, that she could see -in the darkest night, and that, like a real Vila, she could feel not -only the faintest breezes but even the thoughts of people near her. -She certainly felt my thoughts. Pointing to a table in a corner of the -dining-room, she directed my attention to writing-paper and ink, placed -there for the convenience of farm-hands. I understood her meaning, -although I did not understand her words. I spent the evening writing a -letter to my mother. This was my wish, and the Vila must have read it -in my face.</p> - -<p>One of the farm-hands, a Swiss, came in after a while in order to -remind me that it was bedtime and to inform me that early in the -morning he would wake me up and take me to the barn, where my job would -be assigned to me. He kept his word, and with lantern in hand he took -me long before sunrise to the barn and introduced me to two mules which -he put in my charge. I cleaned them and fed them while he watched and -directed; after breakfast he showed me how to harness and hitch them -up. I took my turn in the line of teams hauling manure to the fields. -He warned me not to apply myself too zealously to the work of loading -and unloading, until I had become gradually broken in, otherwise I -should be laid up stiff as a rod. The next day I was laid up, stiffer -than a rod. He was much provoked, and called me the worst “greenhorn” -that he ever saw. But, thanks to the skilled and tender care of the -ladies on the farm, I was at my job again two days later. My being a -greenhorn appealed to their sympathy; they seemed to have the same kind -of soul which I had first observed in my American friends who paid my -fare from Vienna to Prague.</p> - -<p>One of my mules gave me much trouble, and the more he worried me the -more amusement he seemed to furnish to the other farm-hands, rough -immigrants of foreign birth. He did not bite, nor did he kick, as -some of the mules did, but he protested violently against my putting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>49</span> -the bridle on his head. The other farm-hands had no advice to offer; -they seemed to enjoy my perplexity. I soon discovered that the -troublesome mule could not stand anybody touching his ears. That was -his ticklish spot. I finally got around it; I never took his bridle off -on working-days, but only removed the bit, so that he could eat. On -Sunday mornings, however, when I had all the time I wanted, I took his -bridle off, cleaned it, and put it on, and did not remove it again for -another week. The foreman and the superintendent discovered my trick -and approved of it, and so the farm-hands lost the amusement which they -had had at my expense every morning at the harnessing hour. I noticed -that they were impressed by my trick and did not address me by the name -of greenhorn quite so often. They were also surprised to hear me make -successful attempts to speak English. Nothing counts so much in the -immigrant’s bid for promotion to a grade above that of a greenhorn as -the knowledge of the English language. In these efforts I received a -most unexpected assistance, and for that I was much indebted to my red -fez.</p> - -<p>On every trip from the barnyard to the fields, my mules and I passed -by the superintendent’s quarters, and there behind the wall of neatly -piled-up cord-wood I observed every now and then the golden curls of my -American Vila. She cautiously watched there, just like a Serbian Vila -at the edge of a forest. My red fez perched up on a high seat behind -the mules obviously attracted and amused her. Whenever I caught her eye -I saluted in regular Balkan fashion, and it was a salute such as she -had never seen before in the State of Delaware. Her curiosity seemed to -grow from day to day, and so did mine.</p> - -<p>One evening I sat alone near the warm stove in the messroom and she -came in and said: “Good evening!” I answered by repeating her greeting, -but pronounced it badly. She corrected me, and, when I repeated her -greeting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>50</span> the second time, I did much better, and she applauded my -genuine effort. Then she proceeded to teach me English words for -everything in the dining-room, and before that first lesson was over I -knew some twenty English words and pronounced them to her satisfaction. -The next day I repeated these words aloud over and over again during -my trips to the fields, until I thought that even the mules knew them -by heart. At the second lesson on the following evening I scored a -high mark from my teacher and added twenty more words to my English -vocabulary. As time went on, my vocabulary increased at a rapid rate, -and my young teacher was most enthusiastic. She called me “smart,” -and I never forgot the word. One evening she brought in her mother, -who two weeks previously had taken care of me when I was laid up from -overzealous loading. At that time she could not make me understand a -single word she said. This time, however, I had no difficulty, and she -was greatly surprised and pleased. My first examination in English was -a complete success.</p> - -<p>At the end of the first month on the Delaware farm my confidence in the -use of the English language had grown strong. During the second month I -grew bold enough to join in lengthy conversations. The superintendent’s -wife invited me often to spend the evening with the family. My tales -of Idvor, Panchevo, Budapest, Prague, Hamburg, and the immigrant ship -interested them much, they said. My pronunciation and grammar amused -them even more than they were willing to show. They were too polite to -indulge in unrestrained laughter over my Serbian idioms. During these -conversations the Vila sat still and seemed to be all attention. She -was all eyes and ears, and I knew that she was making mental notes of -every mistake in my grammar and pronunciation. At the next lesson she -would correct every one of these mistakes, and then she watched at the -next family gathering<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>51</span> to see whether I should repeat them. But I did -not; my highest ambition was to show myself worthy of the title “smart” -which she had given me.</p> - -<p>One evening I was relating to the superintendent’s family how I had -refused the first offer of a job at Castle Garden, because I did not -care to accept the daily duty of milking a cow, which, according to my -Serbian notions, was a purely feminine job. I admitted that Serbian and -American notions were entirely different in this particular respect, -because, although over a hundred cows were milked daily on the farm, -I never saw a woman in any one of the many barns, nor in the huge -creamery. I confessed also that both the Vila and her mother would -be entirely out of place not only in the cow-barns but even in the -scrupulously clean creamery, adding that if the Vila had been obliged -to attend to the cows and to the creamery, she would not have found -the time to teach me English, and, therefore, I preferred the American -custom. Vila’s mother was highly pleased with this remark and said: -“Michael, my boy, you are beginning to understand our American ways, -and the sooner you drop your Serbian notions the sooner you will become -an American.”</p> - -<p>She explained to me the position of the American woman as that of the -educator and spiritual guide of the coming generation, emphasizing the -fact that the vast majority of teachers in American primary schools -were women. This information astonished and pleased me, because I knew -that my mother was a better teacher than my schoolmaster, an old man -with a funny nasal twang. Her suggestion, however, that I should drop -my Serbian notions and become an American as soon as possible disturbed -me. But I said nothing; I was a greenhorn only and did not desire to -express an opinion which might clash with hers. I thought it strange, -however, that she took it for granted that I wished to become an -American.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>52</span> -The next day was Sunday, and I walked to church, which was in Delaware -City. The singing of hymns did not impress me much, and the sermon -impressed me even less. Delaware City was much bigger than my native -Idvor, and yet the religious service in Idvor was more elaborate. There -was no choral singing in the church of Delaware City, and there were -no ceremonies with a lot of burning candles and the sweet perfume of -burning incense, and there was no ringing of harmonious church-bells. -I was disappointed, and wondered why Vila’s mother expected me to drop -my Serbian notions and embrace America’s ways, which, so far as public -worship was concerned, appeared to me as less attractive than the -Serbian ways. Vila’s family met me in front of the church and asked me -to ride home with them. A farm-hand riding in a fine carriage with his -employer struck me as extraordinary, and I wished to be excused, but -they insisted. No rich peasant in Idvor would have done that. In this -respect Delaware farmers with their American ways appealed to me more. -Another surprise was in store for me: Vila’s mother insisted that I -share with the family their Sunday dinner, just as I had shared with -them the divine service. I saw in it an effort on her part to show an -appreciation of my religious habit and to encourage it, thus proving -in practice what she preached to me about the spiritual influence of -the American woman. During the dinner I described the Sundays of Idvor, -dwelling particularly upon the custom among the Serbian boys and girls -of kolo dancing on the village green in front of the church on Sunday -afternoons. Vila approved of the custom enthusiastically, but her -mother thought that a walk through the peach-orchards, which were then -in full bloom, was at least as good. Vila and I walked together that -Sunday afternoon. My attendance at church gained for me this favor also.</p> - -<p>He who has never seen the Delaware peach-orchards<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>53</span> of those days in -full bloom, when in the month of May the ground is a deep velvety -green, and when the Southern sky seen through the golden atmosphere -of a sunny May day reminds one of those mysterious landscapes which -form the background in some of Raphael’s Madonna pictures—he who has -never seen that glorious sight does not know the heavenly beauty of -this little earth. No painter would dare attempt to put on canvas the -cloth of flaming gold which on that balmy Sunday afternoon covered the -ripples of the sun-kissed Delaware River. Vila asked me whether I had -ever seen anything more beautiful in Idvor, and I said no, but added -that nothing is as lovely and as sweet as one’s native village. When I -informed her that some day I expected to return to it, enriched by my -experiences in America, she looked surprised and said:</p> - -<p>“Then you do not intend to become an American?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said I; and after some hesitation I added: “I ran away from the -military frontier because the rulers of the land wanted to transform me -into a Hungarian; I ran away from Prague because I objected to Austrian -Teutonism; I shall run away from Delaware City also if, as your good -mother suggested, I am expected to drop my Serbian notions and become -an American. My mother, my native village, my Serbian orthodox faith, -and my Serbian language and the people who speak it are my Serbian -notions, and one might as well expect me to give up the breath of my -life as to give up my Serbian notions.”</p> - -<p>“You misunderstood my mother, Michael,” said the Vila; “she only -referred to your notions about woman’s work, and you know that European -women are expected to do the hard work for which only men are strong -enough.”</p> - -<p>“Very true,” said I; “the strongest and ablest men in Europe spend -the best part of their lives on battle-fields,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>54</span> or training for the -battle-fields; this is particularly true of the Serbian people. This -forces our Serbian women to do some of the hard work which men should -do.” This gave me a fitting opportunity to say a few things in favor of -the spiritual influence of the Serbian women by describing the position -of the Serbian woman as she is represented in the Serbian ballads—of -Chuchuk Stana, the wife of Hayduk Velyko, who urged her hero husband -to sacrifice his life rather than surrender the eastern frontier of -Serbia, which, during the Serbian revolution, he was defending against -vastly superior Turkish forces; of the maid of Kossovo, who at the -risk of her life and liberty visited the battle-field of Kossovo in -order to administer the last spiritual aid to the fallen and dying -heroes; of Yevrosima, mother of Prince Marko, the national hero of the -Serbian race, whose counsel and advice were the only guiding star to -Marko throughout his stormy life. I told her also that I should not -be a witness to that heavenly scene on the banks of the Delaware that -Sunday afternoon if it had not been for my mother, who had urged me to -go into the world and learn new things, which I could not learn in my -native peasant village. Young Vila was much impressed by my Serbian -tales, and by my pleading in behalf of the Serbian women, and then she -asked me whether I had ever heard of Martha Washington, the wife of -George Washington, the national hero of America. I confessed complete -ignorance. Pointing to the golden ripples of the sun-kissed Delaware -River, she said that it did not always look as bright and peaceful, and -then described its appearance when in the middle of winter its surface -is covered with broken ice, which, tossed by the waves of the angry -river, makes a passage across it next to impossible. But in January, -1777, George Washington, the commander of the retreating American -armies, crossed it, and on the other side of the river, near Trenton, -surprised the advancing victorious British armies<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>55</span> and defeated them, -turning American defeat into American victory. “Washington,” she -said, “just like Hayduk Velyko, was ready to sacrifice his life while -crossing the treacherous ice-fields of the angry Delaware in order -to strike a timely blow for the safety of his country.” And she was -inclined to believe, she said, that Martha Washington acted at that -critical moment just as Chuchuk Stana did. From that day on, Washington -was to me the Hayduk Velyko of America, and the name of the Delaware -River inspired me always with thoughts of deep veneration. Vila showed -me that America, like Serbia, was also a land of heroes. The rest -of that glorious Sunday afternoon was spent in Vila’s answering my -numerous questions concerning George Washington and the war of the -American Revolution. It was the most inspiring afternoon which I had -experienced in America, and I felt that, after all, there might be many -things in America which were just as great as those great things of -which the Serbian guslar sings in the national ballads of Serbia. Vila -had succeeded in welding the first link between my Serbian traditions -and the traditions of America. I apologized to her for misunderstanding -her mother’s suggestion that I become an American as soon as possible, -and confessed that I was much less anxious than I had thought I was a -few moments before to run away from the shores of the historic Delaware.</p> - -<p>After Vila discovered my lively interest in American history, she -continued her English lessons to me by telling me stories relating to -early American history, which I repeated to her. Jamestown, South St. -Mary, in southern Maryland, and Virginia figured big in these tales. -When I first heard of the <i>Mayflower</i>, a year or so later, and -of its landing at Plymouth Rock, I wondered why Vila never mentioned -that great historical event. She never mentioned Lincoln, and changed -conversation when I once called him the American Prince Marko. America -north<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>56</span> of the Delaware River was very little in her mind, and even -Philadelphia was mentioned only on account of the Liberty Bell and the -Declaration of Independence.</p> - -<p>One evening, Vila’s mother asked me about my mother and her hopes for -my future. Remembering her remarks concerning the spiritual influence -of the American women upon the coming generation, I gave her a glowing -account of my mother, and wound up by saying that she did not expect -me to become an American farmer, and that I came to America to learn -what I could not learn in a peasant country like that of my native -village. She was much touched, and then in simple and solemn language -she revealed to me a new truth which I never forgot and which I found -confirmed by all my experiences in this great land, the truth, namely, -that this is a country of opportunities which are open equally to all; -that each individual must seek these opportunities and must be prepared -to make good use of them when he finds them. She commended me warmly -for making good use of all the opportunities which I had found on the -farm, and advised me strongly to go in search of new opportunities. -Vila agreed with her, and I prepared to leave the hospitable shores of -Delaware.</p> - -<p>I made my return trip to Philadelphia on the same boat which had -brought me to Delaware City. Things looked different from what they -had on my first trip. The farmers of Delaware, my fellow passengers on -the boat, did not look like wooden images, and their speech was not -inarticulate. I understood their language, and its meaning found a -sympathetic response in me. The trip reminded me much of the trip on -the Danube some eighteen months prior to that time. One of my fellow -passengers, a youngster of about my age, pointed out a place to me -which he called Trenton, and assured me that the boat was passing over -the spot where Washington crossed the Delaware. His geography was -faulty as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>57</span> I found out much later. But it was swallowed by a greenhorn -like me and it thrilled me, and I remembered then the first view of the -Cathedral of Karlovci, the seat of the Serbian Patriarch, which was -pointed out to me from the Danube boat by the theological students. I -felt the same thrill in each case, and I knew that America was getting -a hold upon my Serbian heart-strings. My appearance attracted no -attention, either on the boat or at Philadelphia after we landed. My -hat and clothes were American, but my heavy top-boots, so useful on the -farm, were somewhat too heavy for the warm June days in Philadelphia.</p> - -<p>The Swiss foreman had directed me to a Swiss acquaintance of his who -had a small hotel in Philadelphia. He was very eager to have me take -all my meals at the hotel, but my total capital of ten dollars made -me cautious; besides, my days from early morning till late at night -were spent in the heart of the city. No other human being ever saw so -much of Philadelphia during a stay of five days as I did, hunting for -a job, searching new opportunities, as Vila’s mother expressed it. -But I searched in vain. I gained new information about William Penn -and Benjamin Franklin and saw many buildings the history of which is -attached to these two great names, and I wondered why Benjamin Franklin -ever deserted Boston to search new opportunities in a place like -Philadelphia. But he did it, and succeeded. I was sure that neither -he nor any other human being could walk more or chase after a job -more diligently than I did, but then he was an American boy and he -had a trade, and I was a Serbian greenhorn who did not know anything -in particular, except how to drive a pair of mules. Besides, thought -I, Philadelphia might have lost its wealth of opportunities since -Franklin’s days. Such was my consolation while resting on a bench in -Fairmount Park, near the grounds which were being prepared for the -Centennial Exposition of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>58</span> 1876. I was lunching on a chunk of bread and -thinking what would happen when the last three dollars, the remnant of -my ten dollars which I brought from the Delaware farm, disappeared. A -husky farmer approached me and addressed me in English, asking whether -I wanted a job. “I do,” said I; “I have been chasing after one nearly -a week, and I can’t chase much longer, because I see that my weary -farm-boots are showing many signs of distress in their long daily -struggles against these hot Philadelphia pavements.”</p> - -<p>A day later found me in South St. Mary, in southern Maryland. I -expected great things here, having heard so much of its early history -from Vila. I was engaged to drive a pair of mules, dragging cultivators -through corn and tobacco fields. As far as skill and physical exertion -were concerned, the job was easy. But the climate was deadly, and -social life was even more so. The only interesting people whom I found -there were those buried in the old cemetery, some two hundred years -prior to that time, when South St. Mary was quite an important place, -and when the original settlers brought many fine things from England, -and even bricks with which they built their houses. The only diversion -I found was to read the legends on the tombstones in the old cemetery -near the village church. Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac River and -the many inlets of the bay bordered by luxuriant vegetation gave the -country a most picturesque appearance. The flourishing corn and tobacco -fields suggested prosperity, but the only people who stirred and showed -any activity were darkies, whose language I could not understand. I -felt that as far as human speech was concerned, I was in a valley of -silence, although the air was full of incessant sounds from all kinds -of insects and water-animals. Mosquitoes, gnats, and flies, and the -most oppressive, almost tropical, heat of the sun made work in the -fields unbearable. Many a time while<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>59</span> driving the phlegmatic mules -through the broiling atmosphere of the tobacco-fields I thought of -the icy blasts of the North Atlantic which I had experienced on the -immigrant ship less than three months before, and I prayed that one -of those icy breaths of the polar regions might wander astray and -reach the flatlands of Chesapeake Bay. My prayer was not heard, and -I was happy to be still alive at the end of the month, and then I -took my wages of fifteen dollars and made a bee-line for the north. -I hoped that in New York I might be able to catch some of the cold -North Atlantic breezes and, after cooling off, pick up one of the many -opportunities in the metropolis, which on the day when the immigrant -ship landed me at Hoboken seemed to be seething with life and activity -and brimful of all kinds of opportunities.</p> - -<p>The Chesapeake boat landed me at Baltimore in the early hours of a -Sunday morning, and the sound of beautifully tuned church-bells greeted -me. I was told that Baltimore was a Catholic city and that the bells -belonged to a Catholic cathedral. They almost persuaded me to stay in -Baltimore and become a Roman Catholic, so sweet and soothing was their -effect upon my soul. It recalled to my memory the lovely harmony of the -church-bells of my native Idvor, and with that memory there appeared -in my imagination the vision of my strongly orthodox mother and of St. -Sava. This vision reminded me that I must say good-by to Roman Catholic -Baltimore.</p> - -<p>Forty-two years later I met Cardinal Gibbons in Baltimore during a -visit to that city, when Johns Hopkins University conferred upon me -the honorary LL.D. degree. I told him of the incident just referred -to; he was in a jocular mood and said: “Too bad that you did not -yield to the first effect of the Baltimore church-bells; you might be -to-day the archbishop of this diocese, and perhaps even a cardinal.” -“But, in that case, I should not have to-day the honorary LL.D. degree -of Johns Hopkins;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>60</span> I would not exchange that for any other honor,” -said I, returning jest for jest and watching the merry twinkle in -the cardinal’s fluorescent eyes. Some months later President Butler, -of Columbia University, and I happened to be descending in the same -lift at the Shoreham Hotel in Washington. Presently Cardinal Gibbons -entered, and President Butler introduced me to his Eminence, who, -recalling our former meeting in Baltimore, said, “I know Professor -Pupin, and it is a great honor, indeed, to ride in the same lift with -two eminent men who carry so many distinguished academic honors,” and, -as he looked at me with a genial smile which was brimful of Irish -humor, I knew that he wished to remind me in a good-natured way of my -high rating of an honorary Johns Hopkins degree in comparison with the -honors attached to the titles of archbishop and cardinal.</p> - -<p>The Pennsylvania train from Baltimore to New York delivered me to a -ferry-boat, which landed me on West Street, where I found a small hotel -kept by a German, a native of Friesland. He was a rugged old fellow who -loved his low-German dialect, which I did not understand. He spoke in -English to me, which, according to his son Christian, was much worse -than mine, although he had been in America some twenty years. Christian -was a yellow-haired and freckle-faced lad, of about my age, and we hit -it off very well, forming a cross-matched team. He would have given -anything, he said, to have my black hair and dark-red complexion. His -almost white eyebrows and eyelashes and mischievous gray eyes and -yellow freckles fascinated me. He was born in Hoboken and understood -his father’s low-German dialect, but whenever addressed in it, by his -father or by the Friesland sailors who frequented his father’s inn, he -always answered in English, or, as he called it, “United States.”</p> - -<p>Christian managed somehow to get away every now and then from the -little hotel and to accompany me on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>61</span> my many long errands in search -of a job. His familiarity with the town helped me much to master the -geography of New York, and to find out what’s what and who’s who in -the great metropolis. He seemed to be the only opportunity which New -York offered to me, and it was a great one. Every other opportunity -which appeared in newspaper advertisements had hundreds of applicants, -and they were lined up at the place of the promised opportunity, no -matter how early Christian and I reached the place. I was quite sure -that those opportunity-chasers lined up soon after the first issue of -the morning papers. I was told that the year before (in 1873) occurred -the Black Friday panic, and that New York had not yet recovered from -it. There were thousands of unemployed, although it was summer. One -morning Christian told me that he had found a fine job for me, and he -took me to a tug anchored quite near his father’s hotel. There were -quite a number of husky laborers on the tug, which took us to the -German docks in Hoboken. We were to stay there and help in the loading -of ships, replacing the longshoremen who were on strike. The job -assigned to me was to assist the sailors who were painting the ship and -things on the ship. We never left the docks until the strike was over, -which lasted about three weeks. At its termination I was paid and the -tug delivered me to the little hotel on West Street, where Christian -received me with open arms. I had thirty dollars in my pocket, and -Christian told me that I looked as rich as Commodore Vanderbilt, whom -Christian considered to be the richest man in New York. Christian took -me to Chatham Square to buy a new suit of clothes and other wearing -apparel, and I thought that the Jewish clothing dealers would cause -a riot fighting for my patronage. The next day when I appeared at -the breakfast-table in my new togs, Christian’s father could hardly -recognize me, but when he did he slapped me on the back and exclaimed:<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>62</span> -“Who would ever think that you are a Serbian greenhorn?” “Nobody,” -said Christian, resenting his father’s remark, and then he added with -some hesitation: “But who would ever think that you are not a German -greenhorn?” Christian’s father rebuked him and assured me that he meant -no offense when he jokingly called me a Serbian greenhorn.</p> - -<p>Christian was anxious to have me replenish my fortune, which was -considerably reduced by my purchases in Chatham Square. He called my -attention that morning to a big German who was drinking beer at the -hotel bar after delivering several baskets filled with bread, rolls, -and pies, and said that he was a rich and stingy baker, whose wagon, -standing in front of the hotel, needed painting badly. I saw that -the lettering needed speedy restoration. I assured my chum that my -experience as assistant to the sailor painters on the Hoboken docks, -in addition to my natural skill in free-hand drawing, qualified me -for the job of restoring the lettering; Christian chuckled and made a -bee-line for the stingy German baker. I got the contract to restore the -lettering for five dollars and my meals, he to pay for the paints and -the brushes, which were to remain my property. Christian formulated -the contract and specified its terms very clearly; he was my business -manager, and he enjoyed it hugely. The next day I lunched with the -baker’s family, according to the terms of the contract, and after -luncheon, as soon as the wagon had returned from its daily route, I -started the work, interrupted by the supper only, and at nine o’clock -in the evening the job was finished to the full satisfaction of the -party of the first part. That evening found me richer by five dollars, -several paint pots and brushes, a huge home-made apple pie, and a new -and encouraging experience. Christian, for some reason unknown to me -at that time, seemed to look upon the whole affair as a joke, but -nevertheless he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>63</span> paid many compliments to my success as an artist. The -next day we left bright and early for his father’s house in Hoboken, -where in accordance with a plan conceived by Christian we were to spend -some time in painting and papering several of the rooms. Profiting by -the instructions which we received in sundry places, and after making -several unsuccessful attempts, we managed to master the art and to -finish the rooms to the full satisfaction of Christian’s father, who -confessed that no Hoboken expert could have done better. “This painting -is much better than that which you did on the baker’s wagon,” he said, -“because you added some dryer to the paint.” “Right you are,” said -Christian, “but I am to blame, because I purposely avoided telling -Michael to use some dryer on the baker’s wagon. I wanted to make two -jobs out of one.” “There will be several jobs, I am afraid,” said -Christian’s father, “because on the day after the lettering was done -the baker’s wagon was caught in a shower and all the fresh paint has -been washed off, and the wagon looks like a show.” Christian roared -with laughter, but seeing that I looked worried he whispered in my ear: -“Don’t worry, it serves him right; he wanted a twenty-dollar job done -for five dollars, because he took you for a greenhorn.” Christian made -a new arrangement for the relettering of the wagon and I earned another -five dollars, but no home-made apple pie. The German baker in Goerck -Street was neither as cordial nor as hospitable as he was before.</p> - -<p>Christian encouraged me in the belief that I was a painter and -paper-hanger, and I felt that I had a trade; that feeling gave me much -confidence. Christian’s mental attitude was a revelation to me. He -actually believed that a boy can learn anything quickly and well enough -to earn a living, if he will only try. He certainly could do anything, -I thought, as I watched him in his little carpenter-shop in Hoboken. -He also had a lathe and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>64</span> was quite expert in wood and metal turning, -although he never served apprenticeship, as they do in Europe, in order -to learn these things. When I told Christian that, according to my -information on the immigrant ship, I was doomed to serve in America my -apprenticeship as a greenhorn, he said that a European greenhorn must -have told me that, and added, in an offhand manner, that I would be a -greenhorn as long only as I thought that I was one. My description of -a European apprenticeship amused him much, and he called it worse than -the slavery which was abolished here by the Civil War only a few years -prior to that date. When I asked him where he got all those strange -notions, he told me that these notions were not strange but genuine -American notions, and that he first got them from his mother, who was -a native American. His father and his father’s German friends, he -admitted, had the same notions as that greenhorn on the immigrant ship. -Christian certainly looked like a Friesland German, but his thoughts, -his words, and his manner of doing things were entirely different from -anything I ever saw in Europe. He was my first glimpse of an American -boy, just as the Vila on the Delaware farm was my first vision of an -American girl, and her mother my first ideal of a noble American woman. -They were the first to raise that mysterious curtain which prevents -the foreign-born from seeing the soul of America, and when I caught a -glimpse of it I loved it. It reminded me of the soul of my good people -in Idvor, and I felt much more at home. The idea of being a greenhorn -lost many of its horrifying features.</p> - -<p>Christian left New York during that autumn to go into a shop in -Cleveland. Without him, West Street had no attractions for me. I -moved to the East Side of New York, so as to be near Cooper Union and -its hospitable library. I spent many hours in it after my days of -labor, or after my numerous unsuccessful daily trips<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>65</span> in search of -employment. It was my spiritual refuge when things looked black and -hopeless. As winter approached, jobs grew alarmingly scarce, and my -money was rapidly approaching the zero level. My hall-room in Norfolk -Street was cheerless and cold, worse even than my little attic in -Prague. Neither the room nor its neighborhood attracted me in daytime; -I preferred to walk along the endless avenues. This exercise kept me -warm and gave me a chance to make frequent inquiries for a job at -painters’ and paper-hangers’ shops. When the prospects for work of -this kind appeared hopeless, I struck a new idea. Instead of walking -more or less aimlessly, in order to keep myself warm and familiarize -myself with the ways of the great city, I followed coal-carts, and -when they dropped the coal on the sidewalk I rang the bell and offered -my services to transfer the coal from sidewalk to cellar. I often got -the job, which sometimes was a stepping-stone to other less humble and -more remunerative employment. After placing the coal in the cellar and -getting my pay, I would often suggest to the owner that his cellar and -basement needed painting badly; most cellars and basements do. The -owner on being informed that I was a painter out of work, a victim of -the economic crisis, often yielded. The idea of a young and ambitious -painter being compelled to carry coal from sidewalk to cellar at fifty -cents a ton made a strong plea, stronger than any eloquence could make. -The scheme worked well; it did not lead to affluence, but my room-rent -was always paid on time, and I never starved. Often and often, however, -I had to keep my appetite in check. I always had enough to buy my bowl -of hot coffee and a brace of crullers for breakfast in a restaurant on -wheels, stationed near Cooper Union, where Third Avenue car-drivers -took their coffee on cold winter mornings.</p> - -<p>During periods of financial stringency my lunches were a bowl of bean -soup and a chunk of brown bread, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>66</span> the Bowery Mission supplied -for five cents. It was a splendid meal on those cold winter days. But -the Bowery Mission supplied a prayer-meeting with red-hot speeches as -dessert; some of these addresses I really enjoyed; there were speakers, -however, who offended me, because they confessed that they were -reformed drunkards and godless men, and they assured their hearers, -victims of the economic crisis just like myself, that they would -prosper if they would only sign the pledge and vow to return to Jesus. -I neither drank nor had I ever deserted Jesus; the reformed drunkard’s -views of human life depressed me and drove me away from the Bowery -Mission and from the Bowery.</p> - -<p>Carrying coal from sidewalks to cellars and shovelling snow from -sidewalks during that memorable winter were healthful jobs and cheerful -enough, but not very remunerative; painting cellars and basements on -Lexington Avenue was more remunerative, but fearfully depressing. To -spend one’s time day after day in dark cellars and basements and pass -the night in a cheerless hall-room in Norfolk Street, surrounded by -neighbors who were mostly foreign-born of the most unattractive type, -was too much for a Serbian youth who knew the beautiful world as one -sees it from the pasture-lands of his native village and from the -banks of golden Delaware. The reading-room of the Cooper Union library -relieved somewhat my mental depression, although it was packed with -sad-looking victims of the economic crisis, who found their way from -the Bowery to the reading-room in order to keep warm. I longed to see -God’s world of the country again.</p> - -<p>The opportunity came, and about the middle of April of that year, 1875, -I was on a farm in Dayton, New Jersey. My employer’s family consisted -of his wife and an elderly daughter, and I was the only farm-hand on -the place. They were apparently pleased with my work, and the ladies -took much interest in my personal welfare.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>67</span> But the farmer, call -him Mr. Brown, took it into his head that a youth who had lived one -whole winter in Norfolk Street, New York, near the ungodly Bowery, -needed spiritual regeneration. He was a very pious Baptist, and I -soon discovered that in his everlasting professions of omissions and -commissions he was even worse than that reformed drunkard whose sermons -had driven me away from the Bowery Mission and its vigorous bean soup. -Every Sunday his family took me to church twice and made me sit between -the female members of the family. I felt that the congregation imagined -that Mr. Brown and his family were trying their best to convert a -godless foreign youth and make a good Baptist out of him. Mr. Brown -seemed to be in a great hurry about it, because every evening he made -me listen for an hour at least to his reading of the Bible, and before -we parted for the night he would offer a loud and fervent prayer that -the Lord might kindle his light in the souls of those who had been -wandering in darkness. I know now that he had in mind the words of St. -Luke, “To give light to them that sit in darkness,” but at that time I -fancied that he referred to my painting operations in the cellars and -basements of Lexington Avenue, and interpreted his prayers as having a -special reference to me.</p> - -<p>The joy of life which during the day I inhaled in the fresh fields of -the early spring was smothered in the evening by Mr. Brown’s views of -religion, which were views of a decrepit old man who thought of heaven -only because he had no terrestrial problems to solve. He did his best -to strip religion of every vestige of its poetic beauty, and of its -soul-stirring spiritual force, and to make it appear like a mummy of a -long-departed Egyptian corpse. A Serbian youth who looks to St. Sava, -the educator, and to the Serbian national ballads for an interpretation -of the Holy Scriptures, could not be expected to warm up for the -religion which farmer Brown<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>68</span> preached. I thought of Vila and her mother -on the banks of the golden Delaware, and of the glorious opportunities -which they pointed out ahead of me, and I wondered whether farmer -Brown was one of these opportunities; if so, then there were some -opportunities in America from which I wished to run away.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width700" id="nassau"> - <img src="images/facing068-i.jpg" width="700" height="481" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">NASSAU HALL, PRINCETON UNIVERSITY</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing068.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>One Sunday evening, after the church service, farmer Brown introduced -me to some of his friends, informing them that I was a Serbian youth -who had not enjoyed all the opportunities of American religious -training, but that I was making wonderful progress, and that some day -I might even become an active member of their congregation. The vision -of my orthodox mother, of the little church in Idvor, of the Patriarch -in Karlovci, and of St. Sava, shot before my eyes like a flash, and -I vowed to furnish a speedy proof that farmer Brown was wrong. The -next day I was up long before sunrise, having spent a restless night -formulating a definite plan of deliverance from the intolerable boredom -inflicted upon me by a hopeless religious crank. The eastern sky was -like a veil of gold and it promised the arrival of a glorious April -day. The fields, the birds, the distant woods, and the friendly country -road all seemed to join in a melodious hymn of praise to the beauties -of the wanderer’s freedom. I bade good-by to the hospitable home of -farmer Brown and made a bee-line for the distant woods. There the merry -birds, the awakening buds on the blushing twigs, and the little wild -flowers of the early spring seemed to long for the appearance of the -glorious sun in the eastern sky. I did not, because I was anxious to -put as much distance as possible between farmer Brown and myself before -he knew that I had departed. When the sun was high in the heavens I -made a halt and rested at the edge of woods on the side of a hill. A -meadow was at my feet, and I, recalling the words of poet Nyegosh, -watched for “the bright-eyed dewdrops to glide along the sunbeams<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>69</span> to -the heavens above.” The distant view as seen from the elevation of my -resting-place disclosed, near the horizon, the silhouette of a town -with towers and high roofs looking like roofs of churches. After some -three additional hours of wandering, I crossed a bridge over a canal -and found the distant town. There seemed to be one street only where -business was done; the rest of the town appeared to me like so many -beautiful convents. The tramp of many miles through woods and meadows -without any breakfast had made me ravenously hungry and somewhat tired. -The peaceful aspect of the monastic-looking town invited me to sit -down and rest and enjoy some food. I bought a shining loaf of bread -and, selecting a seat under an elm near a building which looked like -the residence of the Archbishop of Prague, I started my breakfast. -It consisted of bread only, and I enjoyed it as I had never enjoyed -breakfast before. Many boys, looking like students, passed by on -their way to the ecclesiastical-looking building; one of them watched -my appetite as if he envied it, and inquired whether I should like -some Italian cheese with my bread. He evidently thought that I was -an Italian, being misled by my ruddy cheeks and dark-brown hair. I -answered that Serbian cheese would suit me better. He laughed and said -that Serbia and Serbian cheese were unknown at Princeton. I answered -that some day perhaps Princeton might hear from Serbia. It is a curious -fact that, in 1914, I was the first man who was invited to Princeton to -give an address on the subject of the Austrian ultimatum to Serbia. The -late Moses Taylor Pyne was my host, and I pointed out to him the elm -in front of Nassau Hall where I had breakfasted some forty years prior -to that time. The students received my address very enthusiastically; -Dernburg addressed them two weeks later, and their heckling broke up -the meeting.</p> - -<p>After finishing the loaf, I basked in the warm rays of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>70</span> the mellow -April sun, and fell asleep and dreamed that in the building where the -students went there was a large assembly of people who had gathered -there for the purpose of conferring some academic honor upon me. When -I woke up, I thought of the letter which I had written to my mother -from Hamburg, a year before, promising that I would soon return rich -in learning and in distinguished honors. The dream reminded me that my -promise was carefully recorded in the mechanism which controlled my -consciousness.</p> - -<p>Princeton was unlike anything that I had ever seen up to that time. -I had read about Hilendar, the famous monastery on Mount Athos, on -the Ægean Sea, founded by St. Sava in the twelfth century. I had seen -pictures of its buildings, where monks lived the life of solitude and -study. Princeton, with its many monastic-looking buildings, I imagined -was such a place, where young men were given every opportunity to -study and become learned men so as to be able to devote their lives -effectively to such work as St. Sava did. As I walked slowly and -thoughtfully toward the railroad-station, a student met me and engaged -me in conversation. He was a little older than myself; kindness and -intelligence beamed from every feature of his handsome face. He knew a -great deal about Serbia, and even about the Serbs of Austria-Hungary, -and when I told him that I had come to America in search of knowledge, -he expressed the hope that he might some day see me enrolled as a -student in Princeton. A student at Princeton! With fellow students and -friends like this divinely handsome and gentle youth who accompanied -me to the station! Impossible! thought I, as I looked through the -car-window and saw the academic halls of Princeton gradually disappear -in the distance and realized at the same time that the train was -taking me back to the Bowery. Eight years later I read the letter -which I wrote to my mother<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>71</span> describing Princeton, in which, in order -to encourage her, I had expressed a strong hope that some day I might -write to her and sign myself a student at Princeton.</p> - -<p>I may add here that my good friend Henry Fairfield Osborn, the -distinguished scientist, was a sophomore at Princeton during that year. -He might have looked just like that gentle youth who showed me the way -to the railroad-station. President Wilson entered Princeton in the -autumn of that year.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>72</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="iii">III<br /> -<span>THE END OF THE APPRENTICESHIP AS GREENHORN</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> visions of Princeton persisted in my mind like after effects of -strong light upon the retina. That gentle youth’s suggestion that he -might some day see me enrolled as a student at Princeton kept ringing -in my ears, and sounded like mockery. A peasant boy from a Serb -village who a little over two years previously was wearing a peasant’s -sheepskin coat and cap to become a fellow student of those youths who -looked like young aristocrats seemed impossible. A European aristocrat -would never have suggested such a thing, and that puzzled me. I saw -an endless chain of difficult things between me and my enrolment -as a student at Princeton, the home for gentle American youth. -Social unpreparedness, I felt, was a much more serious difficulty -than unpreparedness in things which one can learn from books. This -difficulty could not be overcome by associating with people east of the -Bowery, and I was heading that way. The nearer the train approached New -York the less anxious I was to return to it. From Nassau Hall to the -Bowery was too abrupt a change, and from the Bowery to Nassau Hall the -change would have been even more abrupt. I compromised and looked up -Christian’s home on West Street.</p> - -<p>Christian was still in Cleveland, but his father received me with open -arms and promised to find me a job. In less than a week he found me one -in a famous cracker factory on Cortlandt Street. An acquaintance of his -with the name Eilers, a Frieslander and distant relative of a famous -German writer of that name, was employed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>73</span> there; he steered me during -my first experiences in the factory. A place was given me in a squad of -boys and girls who punched the firm’s name upon a particular kind of -biscuit. The job was easy from the point of view of physical strength, -but it required much manual dexterity. In spite of my ambition to -advance to a high place in the squad I progressed very slowly. I soon -discovered that in manual dexterity the American boys and girls stood -very high; my hands moved fairly rapidly after some practice, but -theirs vibrated. I made up my mind that America was not a field in -which I should gather many laurels by efforts requiring much manual -dexterity. That idea had occurred to me before, when I first observed -Christian handling his lathe. One day I was at the delivery desk of the -Cooper Union Library, showing my library check to a youth behind the -desk who countersigned it before a book was delivered to me. I noticed -that he wrote rapidly, using sometimes his right hand and sometimes his -left with equal ease and with much skill. “How can I ever compete with -American boys,” said I, “when they can write with either hand better -than I can write with my right hand!”</p> - -<p>There never was a doubt in my mind that American adaptability which -I observed on every occasion was in a great measure due to manual -training which young people used to get here. Christian’s suggestion, -mentioned above, that “a boy can learn anything quickly and well -enough to earn a living if he will only try,” I saw in a new light, -when I watched the work of those boys and girls in the factory. Yes, -American boys can, but not European, thought I. Lack of early manual -training was a handicap which I felt on every step during my early -progress in America. My whole experience confirmed me in the belief -that manual training of the youth gives them a discipline which -school-books alone can never give. I discovered later that three of -the greatest<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>74</span> characters in American history, Franklin, Jefferson, and -Lincoln, excelled in practical arts requiring dexterity, and that the -constructive genius of the American nation can, in part, be traced to -the discipline which one gets from early manual training.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width700" id="cooper"> - <img src="images/facing074-i.jpg" width="700" height="370" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><i>Reproduced by permission of Cooper Union</i></div> - <div class="caption">AN EARLY VIEW OF COOPER UNION</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing074.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>The great opportunities which, according to my good friends on the -Delaware farm, awaited me in this country were certainly not in the -direction of arts requiring great manual dexterity. The country of -baseball offered, I thought, very few opportunities in this direction -to a foreign-born boy. I was convinced of that every time I made a -comparison between myself and the other boys who were doing the same -manual work in the factory that I did. They were my superiors. In one -thing, however, I thought I was their superior. They did not know much -about the latest things described in the <cite>Scientific American</cite>, -nor in the scientific supplements of the Sunday <cite>Sun</cite>, which I -read assiduously with the aid of a pocket dictionary. The educational -opportunities in the factory also escaped them. Jim, the boiler-room -engineer and fireman of the factory, became interested in my scientific -reading and encouraged me by paying several compliments to my interest -in these things. He once suggested that some day, perhaps, I might -become his scientific assistant in the boiler-room, if I did not mind -shovelling coal and attending to the busy fires. He was joking, but I -took him seriously. Every morning before the factory started I was with -Jim, who was getting the steam up and preparing to blow the whistle -and start the wheels going. I volunteered to assist him “shovelling -coal and attending to the busy fires,” and after a time I understood -the manipulations in the boiler-room quite well, according to Jim. -The steam-engine excited my liveliest interest. It was the first -opportunity that I had ever had to study at close range the operations -of a steam-engine, and I made the most of it, thanks to Jim’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>75</span> patient -interest in my thirst for new information. He was my first professor in -engineering.</p> - -<p>One exceptionally hot afternoon during that summer found Jim prostrated -by heat and I volunteered to run the boiler-room until he got well. -I did it during the rest of that afternoon, much to the surprise of -everybody, but was not allowed to continue, because a fireman’s license -was required for that. When Jim returned I urged him to help me get -a license, but he answered that an intelligent boy, eager to learn, -should not cross the Atlantic for the purpose of becoming a fireman. -“You must aim higher, my lad,” said Jim, and he added that if I -continued to make good use of my pocket dictionary and of my scientific -reading I should soon outgrow the opportunities offered by the New -England Cracker Factory in Cortlandt Street. He never missed a chance -to encourage me and to promise new successes for new efforts. In that -respect he reminded me much of my mother.</p> - -<p>Jim was a humble fireman and boiler-room engineer; his early education -was scanty, so that he was not much on books; but he stood in awe in -the presence of books. Referring to my habit of carrying a pocket -dictionary in my hip pocket and looking up in it the meaning and the -pronunciation of every word which was new to me, he would exclaim, -jokingly, “Look in the book,” whenever some obscure points arose in our -boiler-room discussions. His admiration for books was much increased -when I related to him the story of James Watt and his experiments with -the steam-engine, a story which I had dug out in an old encyclopædia in -the Cooper Union Library. When I told him that James Watt had perfected -his steam-engine and thus started the development of the modern -steam-engine several years before the Declaration of Independence, -he dropped a remark which I never forgot. He said: “The English made -us write the Declaration<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>76</span> of Independence, and they also gave us the -steam-engine with which we made our independence good.” Jim was not -much on learning but he was brimful of native practical philosophy.</p> - -<p>Jim had a relative attending classes at Cooper Union and encouraged me -to join several of its evening classes, which I did. I reported to him -regularly the new things which I learned there. This practice benefited -me even more than it did Jim, because in trying to explain to him the -laws of heat phenomena, which were explained to me in the evening -lectures at Cooper Union, I got a very much better hold of them. The -first ideas of sound and light I caught on the pasture-lands of my -native village; the first ideas of the phenomena of heat I caught in -the boiler-room in Cortlandt Street and at Cooper Union lectures. These -lectures, supplemented by Jim’s boiler-room demonstrations, proved -much more effective than the instruction which I had received from my -teacher Kos, in Panchevo. Kos was a Slovene, a native of that beautiful -valley in Carniola, in the very bosom of the Dolomites; it is nearer -to being an ideal dreamland than any other spot in Europe. To Kos, as -to every true Slav, and particularly to the Slovenes of Carniola, the -poetical side of physical phenomena appealed most strongly. Hence his -patient listening to my enthusiastic professions of the belief that -sound and light were different forms of the language of God. But as I -watched the busy flames under Jim’s boilers, and understood how they -were sustaining the strenuous efforts of steam to supply every hustling -wheel in the factory with driving power, I understood for the first -time that there is also a prose in physics not a bit less impressive -than its poetry. It is this prose which interested Jim, the fireman, -just as it did the Cooper Union lecturer. Their chief concern was what -heat can do and not what it is. My Slavonic craving for knowing what -heat is was soon satisfied by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>77</span> reading a poem in prose concerning the -nature of heat. But of that later.</p> - -<p>During my very first visits to the Cooper Union Library I saw a great -painting hung up in the northwest corner of its large reading-room. -It was called “Men of Progress,” and represented a group of very -learned-looking men. I admired the painting, but took no pains to -find out its meaning. One day, while reading in the Cooper Union -Library, I saw quite near me an old gentleman standing and carefully -scrutinizing what was going on. I imagined, at first, that he had -stepped out of that painting. I looked again and found that the figure -in the painting which I fancied had walked out was still there and -that the old gentleman near me was undoubtedly the original from which -the artist had painted that figure. The ambidextrous youth behind the -library-desk told me afterward that the old gentleman was Peter Cooper, -the founder of Cooper Union, and that he was one of the group of famous -men represented in the great painting. He looked as I imagined the -Patriarch of Karlovci must have looked. He was a striking resemblance -to St. Sava, the Educator, as he is represented on an ikon in our -church in Idvor. The same snowy locks and rosy complexion of saintly -purity, and the same benevolent look from two luminous blue eyes. Peter -Cooper was then eighty-five years of age, but he looked as lively as -if he were going to live another eighty-five years. His personality as -revealed by his appearance inspired me with awe, and I read everything -I could lay my hands on concerning his life; then I read about the -lives of the other great men who were associated with Peter Cooper in -that historical painting. Some of these men were: Morse, the first -promoter of the electric telegraph; Joseph Henry, the great physicist, -head of the Smithsonian Institution, and founder of scientific -bureaus in Washington; McCormick, the inventor of the reaper; Howe, -the inventor of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>78</span> sewing-machine; Ericsson, the engineer of the -<i>Monitor</i>, and so forth. My study of their lives was a timely -preparation for my visit to Philadelphia, to see the Centennial -Exposition, the preparatory work for which I had seen two years prior -to that time, when, returning from the Delaware farm, I stopped at -Philadelphia to search for opportunities.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width700" id="progress"> - <img src="images/facing078-i.jpg" width="700" height="417" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><i>From an engraving by John Sartain after a painting by J. Schussele, -reproduced by the courtesy of Cooper Union</i></div> - <div class="left">Dr. Morton <span class="pl3">Colt</span> <span class="pl3">Saxton</span><br /> - <span class="pl6">Bogardus</span><br /> - <span class="pl9">McCormick</span></div> - - <div class="caption"> - <div class="left">Peter Cooper <span class="pl3">Professor Henry</span> - <span class="pl3">Ericsson</span><br /> - <span class="pl6">Goodyear</span> <span class="pl6">Dr. Mott</span><br /> - <span class="pl9">Mott</span> <span class="pl9">Sickles</span></div></div> - - <div class="float-right"> - <div class="center">Bigelow<br /> - <span class="pl3">Burden</span> <span class="pl3">Jennings</span><br /> - Morse <span class="pl3">Hoe</span> <span class="pl3">Blanchard</span> - <span class="pl3">Howe</span></div></div> - - <div class="caption clear pt1">MEN OF PROGRESS—AMERICAN INVENTORS</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing078.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>The work of those great captains of industry forming the group in the -great painting, “Men of Progress,” was in evidence in every nook and -corner of the Centennial Exposition. This great show impressed me as -a splendid glorification of all kinds of wonderful mechanisms, driven -by steam and animal power, which helped to develop the great resources -of the United States. All scientific efforts exhibited there concerned -themselves with the question of what things can do, rather than what -they are. The show was also a glorification of the great men who first -formulated, clearly stated, and fought for the ideals of the United -States. I saw that fact proclaimed in many of the historical features -of the exposition, and I did not fail to understand clearly that the -show took place in Philadelphia because the Liberty Bell and the -Declaration of Independence were first heard in Philadelphia. When I -left Philadelphia and its show I carried away in my head a good bit of -American history. The Americanization process which was going on within -me was very much speeded up by what I saw at the Centennial Exposition.</p> - -<p>On my return to New York I told Jim, the fireman, that he was -right when he said: “The English made us write the Declaration of -Independence, and they also gave us the steam-engine with which we -made our independence good.” But, instructed by my study of the lives -of men who were represented in the painting “Men of Progress,” and -by what I learned at the Philadelphia exposition of these men and of -the leaders of the American<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>79</span> Revolution, I suggested to Jim that the -steam-engine without great men behind it would have been of little -avail. “Yes,” said Jim, “the Declaration of Independence without men of -character and brains behind it would also have been of little avail; -and the great aims of the Civil War without men like Lincoln and Grant -behind them would have ended in a foolish fizzle. This country, my -lad,” exclaimed Jim with much warmth, “is a monument to the lives of -the men of brains and character and action who made it.” Jim threw out -this chunk of wisdom with the same ease and in the same offhand manner -which he displayed when he threw a few shovelfuls of coal upon the -busy fires under his boilers. To him it was an obvious truth; to a lad -like myself, who was accustomed to look upon countries as monuments to -kings and princes and their victorious armies, it was a revelation; and -I said so. This brought from Jim another epigrammatic remark to the -effect that my trip to America would teach me nothing if it did not -teach me first to squeeze out of my mind all foolish European notions -and make room for new ideas which I might pick up here and there in -this new world. Jim’s sayings were always short and to the point and -their record in my mind never faded.</p> - -<p>Jim was very popular with everybody in the factory, and the fact that -he thought well of me improved my standing much. A Mr. Paul, the -youngest and most active member of the New England Cracker Factory in -Cortlandt Street, paid frequent visits to the boiler-room. I had an -idea that Jim’s views of things interested him just as much as the -operations of the boiler-room. One morning he made a very early visit -before the steam-whistle had blown and the steam-engine had started on -its daily routine, and he found me in the boiler-room, a busy volunteer -fireman. Jim introduced me to him in a jocular way as a student who -found his way from Princeton<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>80</span> to Cortlandt Street, where in daytime I -was rapidly learning every trick of the biscuit industry while in the -evening I was absorbing all the wisdom of Cooper Union. A few days -later Mr. Paul informed me that my fame as a painter of baker-wagons -and of basements on Lexington Avenue, and also my record as a student -in mechanical drawing in the evening classes of Cooper Union, had -reached the board of directors of the New England Cracker Factory, and -that they had resolved to offer me a new job. I was advanced to the -position of assistant to the shipping clerk. It meant not only more pay -but also social advancement. I was no longer a workman in the factory, -who worked for wages; I was a clerk who received a salary. I felt as -people in England probably feel when peerage is conferred upon them. -My fellow workers in the factory, including Eilers, who first got me -the job, showed no envy. They agreed with Jim, who told them that I -was “smart.” Jim used the same word which my Vila on the banks of the -Delaware had used whenever I made a good recitation in English, and I -saw in it a good omen. Jim and Vila and Christian of West Street were -my authorities, who expressed what I considered a competent opinion -upon my apprenticeship as greenhorn, and that opinion was favorable. I -felt assured that the apprenticeship was soon coming to an end.</p> - -<p>My duties as assistant to the shipping clerk were to superintend the -packing of biscuits, to help address with brush and paint the boxes -in which they were packed, and to see to it that they were shipped on -time. A squad of some thirty girls did the packing and they seemed at -first inclined to file objections whenever I found fault with their -packing. They seemed to resent being bossed by an immigrant youth whose -foreign accent would “stop a train,” as they sometimes expressed it. I -found out from Jim that the principal object of their resentment was to -make me angry, because when my Serbian temper<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>81</span> was up my accent became -most atrocious and that furnished them a most hilarious amusement. I -soon became convinced that my success as assistant to the shipping -clerk demanded a perfect control of my temper and a speedy improvement -of my accent, each of them a most difficult task.</p> - -<p>My efforts to control my temper were frequently put to severe tests. -Now and then a biscuit, well aimed, would hit me on the head, and my -Serbian blood would rush to my cheeks and I would look daggers at the -supposed offender. “Look at the bashibozouk,” one of the girls would -sing out on these occasions, and another would add: “Did you ever see -such a Bulgarian atrocity?” These words were in everybody’s mouth at -that time and they referred to the incidents of the Balkan War of -1876–1878, which Serbia, Montenegro, and Russia were waging against the -Turks. A third girl would stick her tongue out and make funny faces -at me in response to my savage glare. She evidently tried to make me -laugh, and I did laugh. Then a fourth girl would sing out: “Oh, look at -the darling now; I just love him when he smiles.” Then they all would -sing:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line outdent">“Smile, Michael, smile,</div> - <div class="line indent0">I love your sunny style.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>I did smile, and every day I smiled more and more, after I had -discovered that the girls did not really dislike me, but just loved to -tease me whenever I showed any signs of a European greenhorn. I dropped -the airs put on by European superiors in authority and gradually the -girls became friendly and began to call me by my first name instead -of mockingly addressing me as “Mister” as they addressed the old -shipping clerk. “You are getting on swimmingly, my lad,” said Jim one -day, and he added something like this: “The girls are calling you -Michael, just as they call me Jim. We are popular, my boy, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>82</span> don’t -let this popularity mislead you into foolish notions. Just watch me; I -have enjoyed this popularity for twenty years, and here I am still a -bachelor, and an old bachelor at that. You have controlled your temper -well, but how about controlling your heart, my lad?” Jim grinned and -winked and placed his index finger in front of his forehead, as if to -indicate that many a wise experience is stored in the practical head -of a canny old fireman. I understood his meaning, but did I heed its -warning? I knew that it contained a warning, and I suspected strongly -that Jim had discovered one of my deepest secrets.</p> - -<p>There was one girl among the thirty biscuit-packers who, in my opinion, -never made a mistake in packing. I never took pains to inspect her -work, and why should I when I was sure of her perfection? But I watched -her and feasted my eyes upon her whenever I had spare time and was sure -that nobody was observing me. She became conscious of it and every now -and then she would suddenly look up and catch my admiring but cautious -gaze. A bashful blush would give me away in spite of my efforts to -hide my thoughts and feelings. She guessed them and she smiled as if -greatly pleased and much amused, but she cleverly avoided giving me an -opportunity to make a confession. I might have done it in spite of my -extreme bashfulness. My note-books were full of her pictures, which I -drew and signed under them her name, Jane Macnamara. Perhaps Jim had -seen these pictures among my many sketches of the boiler-room and its -contents, and hence his warning to me.</p> - -<p>One Monday morning Jane did not appear at her usual place in the -packing-room; her friend, another packing girl, told me that Jane had -been married on the previous Saturday. I tried my best to appear as if -I received the news with indifference, but failed. The girls observed -a change; I neither smiled nor did I frown, but I thought a lot, and -the girls seemed to take quite an interest in my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>83</span> thoughtfulness, but -studiously avoided annoying me. Only now and then one of the girls -would whisper to me: “Penny for your thoughts, Michael.” Jim, I was -sure, also observed the change, but said nothing, as if he had observed -nothing. One day he introduced me to an acquaintance of his whom he -called Fred, who looked like a middle-aged man. He had wonderful -deep furrows in his face, and his hands were large and very bony and -looked as if the daily toil had rubbed off all the superfluous flesh -and fat from them. Jim told me that Fred was far from middle age, but -barely over thirty, and that some twelve years before he had plans and -ambitions just as big as mine, backed by at least as much brains as he -thought I had. Fred’s friends expected big things from him, said Jim, -but suddenly Fred lost his heart and married and raised a big family -of children somewhere in Jersey City. “To-day,” said Jim, “Fred is -mentally just where he was twelve years ago, and if he did not have -the contract of making the wooden packing-boxes for this factory he -would look even older than he is looking now,” and then he added, in -his usual offhand manner by way of illustration, that corn-stalks -cease to grow as soon as the ears of corn appear and all the sap of -the corn-stalk is served to the ears. Referring to Fred’s numerous -children, Jim finished his picture by saying that Fred looked like a -withering corn-stalk with many small ears of corn on it, and that he -hoped that the withering corn-stalk would hold out until the numerous -ears of corn had ripened. He admitted, however, that he himself was a -withering corn-stalk with no ears of corn at all; that his life was the -other extreme from Fred’s, and that neither he nor Fred had in their -younger days studied and applied in practice the controlling regulators -of life. Jim’s sermons on self-control always hit the mark; and when, -referring to his advice to me to control my temper, my heart, and my -speech, I suggested that according to him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>84</span> life was a series of all -kinds of controls difficult to manage, he answered that nothing is -difficult when it becomes a habit. “Just examine my boiler-room,” he -said, “and you will find that everything is controlled. The centrifugal -governor controls the speed of the engine; the safety-valve limits -the pressure of steam; every fire has a regulator of its air draft, -and every oven has a temperature indicator. I know them all and I -watch their operations without knowing that I am doing it. Practice -makes perfect, my lad, and perfection knows no difficulties even in a -boiler-room as full of all kinds of tricks as human life is.” Jim’s -sermons were always short and far ahead of anything I had ever heard -in the churches in Delaware City, or in Dayton, New Jersey, or in the -Bowery Mission, or in any other church which up to that time I had -visited in this country; and, moreover, they were not accompanied -by congregational singing, which bored me. I understood why so many -blacksmiths and other people of small learning made a great success as -preachers in this country, whereas in my native village the priest, who -prided himself upon his learning, was obliged to read those sermons -only which were sent to him by the bishop of the diocese. I suggested -to Jim in a jocular way to quit the boiler-room and become a preacher, -and he answered that the boys and girls of the New England Cracker -Factory in Cortlandt Street furnished a sufficiently large field for -his religious and educational mission. Jim’s assistance helped me much -to let the dream about Jane fade away gradually and make room in my -imagination for the dreams which I first saw at Princeton under that -elm-tree in front of Nassau Hall.</p> - -<p>The factory in Cortlandt Street was in many respects a college in which -Jim was the chaplain; and it had a professor who should be mentioned -here. It also had a dormitory; several of the young fellows employed in -the factory lived on the top floor of the building. I was one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>85</span> of them, -and I did not change my quarters when I was advanced to the position -of assistant to the shipping clerk. Two great attractions kept me -there. One was that the other fellows were out every evening visiting -theatres and music-halls, so that I had the whole loft, and, in fact, -the whole factory all to myself and to a chum of mine, who was much -older than I in years but not in his position in the factory. His name -was Bilharz, and he was the second attraction. He was the opposite to -Jim and to every human being I had ever met. He knew nothing of nor did -he care for the concrete or practical things of life, but always lived -in dreams about things which happened centuries ago. He knew Latin and -Greek and all kinds of literatures, but never made any attempts to make -any use of his knowledge. Factory work of the humblest kind was good -enough for him, and I believed that he would have been satisfied to -work for his board only, if pay had been refused him. He informed me -once by an accidental slip of the tongue that he had studied theology -at the University of Freiburg, in southern Germany, and would have -become a priest if an unfortunate love-affair had not put an end to -his ecclesiastical aspirations. He had no other aims when he came to -America, he said, than to work for a modest living and to lead a life -of profound obscurity, until the Lord called him away from this valley -of tears, as he expressed it. He used a German expression and called -the earth a “Thraenenthal.” Although a German he spoke English well, -being a finished scholar and having lived in America for a number -of years, and having a memory for sound which impressed me as most -remarkable. He sang like a nightingale, but only on evenings when we -were all alone. Ecclesiastical music was his favorite, and during many -an evening the strains of “Gloria in Excelsis Deo,” “Ave Maria,” and -“I Know That My Redeemer Liveth” rang forth from the spacious lofts of -the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>86</span> New England Cracker Factory and lost themselves in the silence -of night among the deserted buildings of Cortlandt Street, which were -alive in daytime only. I never tired listening to his recitations -of Latin and Greek poetry, although I did not understand it, and of -selected passages from Shakespeare and Goethe, which I did understand. -He loved the art of articulate speech and of melody, and he thought of -things only that happened three thousand years ago when Homer sang and -the Olympian gods guided the destinies of men, but he cared for nothing -else. The steam-engine and every other kind of mechanism were to him a -deadly prose which, in his opinion, Satan had invented for the purpose -of leading astray the spirit of man. “They are the weapons by which -people like you are keeping in slavery people like me,” he said once, -jokingly, referring to my interest in the boiler-room operations and to -my admiration of the great captains of industry whose lives I studied -and whose work I had seen and admired at the Philadelphia exposition. -I sometimes suspected that he felt alarmed by what he considered my -worship of false gods, and that this impelled him to do everything he -could for my redemption from heathenism. My admiration for his learning -was great, but my sympathy for his misfortunes was even greater. His -hands were once caught in a machine and most of his fingers had become -stiff and crooked so that they looked like the talons of a falcon. His -sharp features, a crooked nose and protruding eyes, supported this -suggestion of a falcon, but his awkward, flat-footed walk suggested a -falcon with broken wings; to say nothing of his other misfortunes which -made him in spirit also a falcon with broken wings.</p> - -<p>I felt that he knew a great deal more about the Jane incident than he -cared to disclose to me. One day I referred to her as the Minnehaha -of Cortlandt Street. “Minnehaha, laughing water,” exclaimed Bilharz:<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>87</span> -“where did you ever get that, you boiler-room bug?” and he laughed -as if he had never heard a funnier thing in his life. “From Jim, the -boiler-room hermit, to Longfellow, one of the greatest of American -poets, is a tremendous jump, a <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">salto mortale</i>, as they call it in -a circus,” said Bilharz; and then, growing more serious and thoughtful, -he added something like this: “It is really wonderful what the eyes -of a woman can do! They are just like the stars in the heavens, -encouraging us poor mortals to aim at celestial heights. But many a -sky-rocket seemed to be sailing for the stars and suddenly it found -itself buried in mud. I am one of these sky-rockets,” said Bilharz; -“you are not, thanks to the timely intervention of a kindly divinity.” -He meant Jim. Then, continuing in his usual dramatic manner, he recited -in Latin an ode of Horace, in which the poet speaks of a youth trusting -to the beaming countenance of his lady-love as a mariner trusting to -the sunlit ripples of a calm sea who is suddenly upset by a treacherous -squall and, being rescued, gratefully offers his wet garments in -sacrifice to Neptune, the god of the sea. After translating the ode and -explaining its meaning to me he urged me to hang my best clothes in the -boiler-room as a sacrifice to Jim, the divinity which had rescued me -from the treacherous waves of “Minnehaha, laughing water.” “You are the -luckiest of mortals, my boy,” said Bilharz to me; “some day you will -provoke the envy of the gods and then look out for stern Nemesis!” I -did not understand the full meaning of these classical allusions, but -he assured me that some day I should. I told Bilharz that my luck, of -which he spoke so often, was mostly due to my being so near to a man of -his learning, and that I thought he ought to be a professor in Nassau -Hall at Princeton. He declined the honor, but offered to prepare me for -it, and I accepted.</p> - -<p>Bilharz was very moody and for days and days he had nothing to say to -anybody, not even to me! Nobody<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>88</span> else cared, because nobody understood -him, but I did care. When he discovered that I sincerely admired his -learning and was interested in his puzzling personality he became -more communicative, sometimes almost human. His English accent was -excellent, and I asked his opinion about my accent and he assured me -with childlike frankness that it was rotten, but that it could be -fixed up if I submitted to a course of training prescribed for me by -my Vila on the Delaware farm. “I could not be your Vila, deformed as -I am,” said he, referring to his crippled fingers and to his awkward -walk, “but I will gladly be your satyr and teach you how to imitate -not only the sounds of human language but also, if you wish it, the -melodies of birds and the chirping of bugs. The satyrs are great in -that.” I knew that he could, because many an evening while I was on -the dormitory loft of the factory reading the Mayflower Compact, the -Declaration of Independence, the American Constitution, Patrick Henry’s -and Daniel Webster’s speeches, and Lincoln’s speech at Gettysburg, -Bilharz, in another part of the building, would be imitating sounds -of all kinds of birds and bugs, after he had grown tired reciting -Greek and Latin poetry and singing ecclesiastical songs. That was -his only amusement, and he enjoyed it when he was sure that nobody -was listening; he made an exception in my case. We finally made the -start in what he called my preparation for Nassau Hall. In the course -of less than a month I finished reciting to Bilharz the Declaration -of Independence, the American Constitution, and Lincoln’s speech at -Gettysburg, submitting to many corrections and making many efforts -to give each word its proper pronunciation, and finally he accepted -my performance as satisfactory. By that time I knew these documents -by heart and so did Bilharz, and he, in spite of himself, liked them -so well that he accused me of conspiring to make an American out of -him. “You are sinking rapidly,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>89</span> my boy, in the whirlpool of American -democracy, and you are dragging me down with you,” said Bilharz one -evening, when I objected to some of the amendments which he offered in -order to harmonize the American theory of freedom with the principles -of German socialism. He admitted that he, a loyal Roman Catholic, did -not care much for German social democracy, but that he often wondered -why the American enthusiasts for democracy did not take German social -democracy and save themselves the trouble of writing the Declaration -of Independence. I called his attention to the fact that American -democracy is much older than German social democracy, and he, somewhat -irritated by that suggestion and by my defense of American democracy, -as I understood it, suggested that he should resign his position as -my teacher and become my pupil. His flippant criticism of American -democracy and my stiff defense of it helped me much to see things which -otherwise I should have missed, but these discussions threatened the -entente cordiale between Bilharz and myself. Finally we compromised and -changed our course of reading, dropping things relating to political -theories and taking up poetry. Longfellow’s and Bryant’s poetry were -my favorites. “The Village Blacksmith” and “Thanatopsis” I knew by -heart and enjoyed reciting to Bilharz, who was greatly pleased whenever -in these recitations I avoided making a single serious break in my -pronunciation. After reading some of Shakespeare’s dramas which Booth -and other famous actors like Lawrence Barrett and John McCullough -were playing at that time, I visited the theatre often, and from my -modest gallery seat I would analyze carefully the articulation of every -syllable which Booth and the other actors were reciting. Booth did -not have a big voice; it was much smaller than the voice of Lawrence -Barrett or of powerful John McCullough, but I understood him better. -Bilharz explained it by saying that Booth had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>90</span> a perfect articulation. -“Articulation is an art which the Greeks invented; big voice is brute -force common among the Russians,” he used to say, protesting whenever -he had an opportunity against mere physical strength, which was natural -considering his scanty physical resources. He hated both the Russians -and the Prussians, because, in his opinion, they both were big brutes. -In those days the southern Germans had no love for the Prussians. He -never missed a single chance to sing the praises of Greek drama and -of the Greek theatre and of everything which flourished during the -classical age. He called my attention to the enormous size of Greek -theatres and to the necessity of perfect articulation on the part of -Greek actors if they were to be heard. “They were great artists,” said -he; “our actors are duffers only. We are all duffers! Give me the -Greeks, give me Homer, Pindar, Demosthenes, Plato, Praxiteles, Phidias, -Sophocles, and hundreds of others who spoke the language of the gods -and did things which only the divine spirit in man can do, and you -can have your Morse, McCormick, Howe, Ericsson, and the rest of the -materialistic crew who ran the show at Philadelphia.” He certainly -told many a fine story when he spoke of the great poets, orators, -philosophers, and sculptors of Greece, and his stories impressed me -much because they were great revelations to me; they were the first -to arouse my interest in the great civilization of Greece. They would -have impressed me even more if Bilharz had not displayed a glaring -tendency to exaggerate, in order to create a strong contrast between -what he called the idealism of classical Greece and what he called the -realistic materialism of modern America. According to him the first had -its seat among the gods on the ethereal top of Mount Olympus and the -second one was sinking deeper and deeper through the shafts of coal -and iron mines into the dark caverns of material earth. “No action,” -said Bilharz, “which needs the assistance of a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>91</span> steam-engine or of any -other mechanism can trace its origin to idealism nor can it end in -idealism.” I suggested that every animal body is a mechanism and that -its continuous evolution seems to indicate that the world is heading -for a definite ideal. Bilharz flew up like a hornet when he heard the -word evolution.</p> - -<p>A lively discussion was going on in those days between the biological -sciences and theology, Huxley and many other scientists championing -the claims of Darwin’s evolution theory and the theologians defending -the claims of revealed religion. I was too young and too untutored to -understand much of those learned discussions, but Bilharz followed them -with feverish anxiety. His theological arguments did not appeal to me, -and so far as I was concerned they lost even the little force they had -when Bilharz turned them against what he called American mechanism -and materialism, which he tried to make responsible for the alleged -materialism of the evolution theory. His political and philosophical -theories based upon blind prejudice created a gap between him and me -which widened every day. Here are some illustrations of it.</p> - -<p>When I described to him the election day of 1876, telling him that I -and thousands of others had stood quietly and patiently hours and hours -in drenching rain in front of the New York <cite>Tribune</cite> building -waiting for the returns which would tell us whether Hayes or Tilden -was to be the supreme executive head of the United States during the -coming four years; how the next day some of the newspapers had raised -a howl of “fraud,” accusing the Republican party of tampering with -the election returns in one of the States, but that the people of New -York City and of the whole country had paid no attention, trusting -implicitly to the machinery of government to straighten out crookedness -if it existed, and how this dignity of American democracy thrilled me -when I compared it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>92</span> with the rows and scandals accompanying elections -in the countries of the military frontier of Austria-Hungary, he only -laughed and ridiculed the whole procedure of electing by ignorant -voters the supreme executive head of a nation. He told me a story of -Aristides of Athens, who, being requested by a voter to write upon a -shell the name of the man who was to be condemned for some crime which -was not quite clear to the Athenian voter, wrote down his own name, and -Aristides, the just, the noblest character of Athens, was condemned. -But the condemnation of this just and noble and innocent man was, -according to Bilharz, a condemnation of the Athenian democracy, whose -shortcomings brought the downfall of Greek civilization, and he added -that the shortcomings of American democracy would bring the downfall -of the old European civilization. The Aristides story interested me -much, but the inference he drew from it made me think of Christian of -West Street, and of his blunt remark: “A European greenhorn must have -told you that.” Jim was present at this discussion. He was a strong -Presbyterian and ridiculed on every occasion what he called Bilharz’s -Roman Catholic views. This time he quoted Lincoln by saying “that -government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not -perish from the earth.” Then he added for the edification of Bilharz -that religion in the Roman Catholic church is of the church, by the -church, for the church, and that this was the real reason why Bilharz, -trained in this kind of theology, would never understand American -democracy. This shocked me, because I expected a fist fight between my -two best friends, but ... the fist fight did not take place.</p> - -<p>I enjoyed taking long walks on Broadway whenever I had free time, -going up on one side and coming down on the other, inspecting every -window in bookstores and art stores and looking at the latest things in -pictorial art, at the titles of the latest things in literature, and -at the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>93</span> photographs and engravings of prominent men of the day. This -gave me quite an idea of what was going on in the American world of -intellect. Bilharz never joined me because, he said, there was nothing -worth seeing on these inspection tours of mine. Once during the noon -recess I managed to take him around the corner of Cortlandt Street and -Broadway trusting to luck to meet a certain great person whom I had -seen several times before and recognized because I saw his photograph -in the shop-windows of Broadway. I succeeded, for there in the midst of -the Broadway crowd appeared before us William Cullen Bryant, the author -of “Thanatopsis”! He was then the editor of <cite>The Evening Post</cite>, -which was located on Broadway not far from Cortlandt Street. I pointed -him out; Bilharz held his breath and, referring to the wonderful -appearance of the great poet, he said: “There is the only man in this -materialistic land of reapers and mowing-machines and chattering -telephone disks who could take a seat among the gods on Mount Olympus -and be welcomed there by the shades of the great idealists of Greece.”</p> - -<p>At another time I managed to take him as far as City Hall; it was some -holiday, and the papers had announced that President Hayes and his -secretary of state, William Evarts, would be at City Hall at noon, -and they were there. Bilharz and I stood in a huge crowd, but we had -a good view of the President and of his secretary of state, and we -heard every word of their short speeches. They were dressed just like -everybody else, but their remarkable physiognomies and their scholarly -words convinced me that they belonged to the exalted position into -which the vote of the people had placed them. The New York Sun was a -bitter opponent of President Hayes and published his picture on the -editorial page of every one of its issues. In this picture the letters -spelling “fraud” were represented as branded across the expansive -brow<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>94</span> of the President. But as I looked at him standing in front of -City Hall and beheld the light which was reflected from his smooth and -honest brow I knew that the New York Sun was wrong, and I vowed never -to read it again until that picture disappeared from its editorial -pages. Bilharz did not understand my admiration of the scene which we -had witnessed: the democratic simplicity of the highest officials in -the great United States and the very informal reception given to them -in the great metropolis, New York, was all due, according to him, to -a lack of artistic taste on the part of vulgar democracy. I thought -of the multicolored uniforms loaded with shining decorations, of the -plumed hats and long sabres, and of the numerous glaring flags with -imperial eagles displayed on such occasions in the Austrian Empire, -and I told Bilharz that if that monkey business was all due to a -profusion of artistic taste, then give me the simplicity of vulgar -democracy. Bilharz shrugged his shoulders and pitied me, and I pitied -him for having to pass, as he assured me often, the rest of his days in -this—to him—the most uninteresting part of the valley of tears, das -Thraenenthal, as he called this terrestrial globe.</p> - -<p>Such were the many differences of mental attitude which widened the gap -between Bilharz and myself. He clung to the notions which were handed -down to the Old World from generations long departed; I, following -Jim’s suggestion, was trying to pick up wherever I could new ideas in -the New World. Much learning hath made him mad, thought I, whenever -I analyzed the strange ideas which Bilharz had of the United States -of America. I came to the conclusion that his term of apprenticeship -as greenhorn would never end. It is a national calamity that the vast -majority of our immigrants never see the end of their apprenticeship as -greenhorns.</p> - -<p>I wished to believe that I was no longer a greenhorn, and I certainly -did not wish to listen to opinions of a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>95</span> greenhorn such as were the -opinions of Bilharz in matters outside of Greek and Roman history and -of the civilization which it described. His eyes were continually -turned to a sunset the glory of which had faded long ago; my eyes -watched just as eagerly for the daily sunrise as they did on the -pasturelands of my native village, and each sunrise showed me something -new in this—to me—still unknown land. He contemplated the past, and I -explored the present and dreamed about the future. I thought of Jim’s -prophecy which said that some day I should outgrow the opportunities -of Cortlandt Street, and I felt confident that the day had arrived. My -mind was made up to search for new opportunities, but Jim, and Bilharz -also, in spite of his shortcomings, were still a great attraction, and -I moved slowly.</p> - -<p>One day, after leaving Cooper Union library, I walked along the upper -Bowery, refreshing my memories of the hard winter of 1874–1875. In -Broome Street near the Bowery I saw a store with a sign bearing the -name of Lukanitch. The man of that name must be a Serb, thought I, and -I walked in, longing to hear the language which I had not heard for -over three years. It was a hardware store dealing principally in files -and tools made of hardened steel. Behind the desk stood an elderly man, -and he, much surprised, answered my Serbian greeting in the Serbian -language with an accent reminding me of Kos, my Slovene teacher in -Panchevo. Lukanitch told me that he was a Slovene and that in his young -days he was a pedler, a Kranyats, as they called the Slovenian pedlers -in my native village. His annual summer tours took him to my native -Banat. A Kranyats travels on foot hundreds of miles, carrying on his -back a huge case with numerous small drawers, each drawer containing a -different line of goods: pins, needles, and threads; pens and pencils, -cheap jewelry and gaily colored handkerchiefs; cotton, linen, silk, -and all kinds of things which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>96</span> the peasants are apt to buy. A Kranyats -was a familiar sight in my native village, and he was always welcome -there, because he was a Slovene, a near kin to the Serb; and the Serb -peasants of the Banat plains loved to hear a Kranyats describe the -beauties of the mountainsides of little Slovenia on the eastern slope -of the Dolomites. When I disclosed my name to Lukanitch he asked me for -my father’s name, and when I told him that it was Constantine and that -he lived in Idvor, Banat, his eyes looked like two scintillating stars. -He gave me a big hug and -<a id="aa"></a><ins title="Original has 'a a'">a</ins> big tear threatened to roll down his cheek -when he said: “Ko che ko Bog?” (Who can fathom the will of God?) After -relating to me that my father had befriended him nearly thirty years -prior to that time and that he had often stayed as guest at my father’s -house whenever his annual tours as Kranyats took him through Idvor, -he begged me to come to his house on the following Sunday and dine -with his family. I did, and there I met his good wife, a fine Slavonic -type, and also his son and daughter, who were born in this country and -who looked like young Slavs with Americanism grafted upon them. His -son was about to graduate from a high school, and his daughter was -preparing for Normal College. They were both American in manner and -sentiment, but father and mother, although deeply devoted to the United -States, the native country of their children, were still sincerely -attached to the beautiful customs of the Slovene land. The children -preferred to speak English, but they delighted in Slovene music, which -they cultivated with much enthusiasm. That made their parents most -happy. Their home was a beautiful combination of American and Slovene -civilization. Once they invited me to an anniversary party and I found -the whole family dressed in most picturesque Slovenian costumes; but -everybody in the party, including even old Lukanitch and his wife -and all the Slovenian guests, spoke English. Most of the guests were -Americans,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>97</span> but they enjoyed the Slovenian dishes and the Slovenian -music, singing, and dancing as much as anybody. To my great surprise -the American girls, friends of Miss Lukanitch, played Slovenian music -exceedingly well, and I thought to myself that a sufficiently frequent -repetition of parties of that kind would soon transform the American -population in the vicinity of Prince Street into Slovenians. This -interaction between two very different civilizations gave me food for -thought, which I am still digesting mentally.</p> - -<p>Lukanitch and his family became my devoted friends, and they were -just as interested in my plans and aspirations as if I had been a -member of their family. The old lady had a tender heart, and she shed -many a tear listening to bits of my history from the time when I bade -good-by to father and mother at the steamboat landing on the Danube, -five years before. The disappearance of my roast goose at Karlovci, -my first railroad ride from Budapest to Vienna, my dialogues with the -train conductor and the gaudy station-master at Vienna, and my free -ride in a first-class compartment from Vienna to Prague in company with -American friends amused her and her husband hugely. I had to repeat -the story many a time for the benefit of her Slovenian friends. She -begged me repeatedly to tell the story of my crossing of the Atlantic -and of my hardships as greenhorn, being evidently anxious to have her -children hear it. I did it several times, scoring much success on each -occasion, and as a reward she loaded me with many little gifts and with -many enjoyable feasts on Sundays and holidays. My interpretation of -the American theory of freedom, which I had derived from reading the -lives and the utterances of the great men who made this country and -from my three years’ struggles as greenhorn, found a most appreciative -audience in the Lukanitch family. They applauded Jim’s sentiment, that -this country is a monument<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>98</span> to the great men who made it, and not to -a single family like the Hapsburgs of Austria-Hungary. Old Lukanitch -offered to engage me as his teacher in American history, and young -Lukanitch offered to get me an invitation from the principal of his -high school to deliver an oration on the Declaration of Independence. -The offers were not meant very seriously, but there was enough -sincerity in them to make me believe that my training in America was -recognized as having substantial value by people whose opinion deserved -respect. I saw in it the first real recognition referred to in the -prophecy of my fellow passenger on the immigrant ship who said: “No -matter who you are or what you know or what you have, you will be a -greenhorn when you land in the New World, and a greenhorn has to serve -his apprenticeship as greenhorn before he can establish his claim to -any recognition.” I said to myself: “Here is my first recognition small -as it may be, and I am certainly no longer a greenhorn.”</p> - -<p>No longer a greenhorn! Oh, what a confidence that gives to a -foreign-born youth who has experienced the hardships of serving his -apprenticeship as a greenhorn! Then there were other sources of -confidence: I had a goodly deposit in the Union Dime Savings Bank and -it was several thousand times as big as the nickel which I brought to -Castle Garden when I landed. Besides, I had learned a thing or two in -the evening classes at Cooper Union, and my English was considered -good not only in vocabulary and grammar, but also in articulation, -thanks to Bilharz. Young Lukanitch assured me that my knowledge of -English, mathematics, and science would easily take me into college. He -even prophesied a most successful college career, pointing at my big -chest and broad shoulders and feeling my hard biceps. “You will make -a splendid college oarsman,” said he, “and they will do anything for -you at Columbia if you are a good oarsman, even if you do not get from -Bilharz so very much Greek<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>99</span> or Latin.” At that time Columbia stood very -high in rowing. One of her crews won in the Henley Regatta, and its -picture could be seen in every illustrated paper. I had seen it many -a time and remembered the looks of every member of that famous crew. -Young Lukanitch was so enthusiastic about it that he would have gone -to Columbia himself if his father had not needed him so much in his -steel-tool business. He did his best to turn my eyes from Nassau Hall -to Columbia. He succeeded, but not so much on account of my prospects -in rowing as on account of other things, and among them was the -official name of that institution: “Columbia College in the City of New -York.” The fact that the college was located in the city of New York -carried much weight, because New York appealed to my imagination more -than any other place in the world. The impression which it made upon my -mind as the immigrant ship moved into New York Harbor on that clear and -sunny March day when I first passed through Castle Garden, the Gate of -America, never faded. My first victory on American soil was won in New -York when I fought for my right to wear the red fez.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>100</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="iv">IV<br /> -<span>FROM GREENHORN TO CITIZENSHIP AND COLLEGE DEGREE</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Columbia boat-race victory at Henley occurred in 1878. By that time -I had already with the assistance of Bilharz finished a considerable -portion of my Greek and Latin preparation for Princeton—or, as I -called it, for “Nassau Hall.” My change of allegiance from Princeton to -Columbia was gradual.</p> - -<p>Columbia College was located at that time on the block between Madison -and Park Avenues and between Forty-ninth and Fiftieth Streets in New -York City. One of its proposed new buildings was, according to report, -to be called Hamilton Hall, in honor of Alexander Hamilton. When I -learned this I looked up the history of Alexander Hamilton. One can -imagine how thrilled I was when I found that Hamilton left the junior -class at Columbia College and joined Washington’s armies as captain -when he was barely nineteen, and at twenty was lieutenant-colonel and -Washington’s aide-de-camp! What an appeal to a young imagination! Few -things ever thrilled me as much as the life of Alexander Hamilton. -Every American youth preparing for college should read the history of -Hamilton’s life.</p> - -<p>One cannot look up the history of Hamilton’s life without running -across the name of another great Columbia man, John Jay, first -Secretary of Foreign Affairs, appointed by Congress, and the first -Chief Justice of the United States, appointed by Washington, and a -stanch backer of brilliant Hamilton. Chancellor Livingston,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>101</span> another -great Columbia man, administered the first constitutional oath of -office to Washington; he also completed the purchase of Louisiana from -France. The more I studied the history of Hamilton’s time the more I -saw what tremendous influence Columbia’s alumni exerted at that time. -Cortlandt Street being near Trinity Church, I walked there to look at -the Hamilton monument in the Trinity churchyard. This monument was the -first suggestion to me of a bond of union between Trinity Church and -Columbia College. Before long I found many other bonds of union between -these two great institutions.</p> - -<p>Every time I passed Columbia College in my long walks up-town and -looked at the rising structure of Hamilton Hall, I thought of these -three great Columbia men. What student of Hamilton’s life could have -looked at Hamilton Hall on Madison Avenue without being reminded of the -magnificent intellectual efforts which two young patriots, Hamilton -and Madison, made in the defense of the federalist form of the new -American Republic? It happened thus that my memory of Nassau Hall at -Princeton gradually faded, although it never vanished. The famous -boat-race victory of a Columbia crew at Henley would not alone have -produced this effect. It was produced by three great New York men of -the Revolutionary period who were alumni of “Columbia College in the -City of New York.” Columbia had at that time a school of mines and -engineering, separate from the college. I was much better prepared for -it than for Columbia College, thanks to the evening lectures at Cooper -Union, and to my natural inclination to scientific studies, but I -imagined that the spirit of Hamilton, Jay, and Livingston hovered about -the academic buildings of Columbia College only.</p> - -<p>Bilharz rejoiced when I informed him of my decision to put on extra -pressure in my classical studies preparatory for Columbia College, and -congratulated himself, as I found out later, that he had succeeded in -rescuing me<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>102</span> from the worship of what he called scientific materialism. -The good old fellow did not know that at that very time I was spending -many hours of my spare time reading Tyndall’s “Heat as a Mode of -Motion,” and Tyndall’s famous lectures on Sound and Light, which he -delivered in this country with great success in the early seventies. -These popular descriptions of physical phenomena were the poems in -prose to which I referred before. Another book of a similar character -came into my hands at that time through the Cooper Union library. I -have a copy of it now, having received it over thirty years ago as a -present from the late General Thomas Ewing. It is called “The Poetry -of Science,” published in 1848 by Robert Hunt. It starts with the -following quotation from Milton:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line outdent">“How charming is Divine Philosophy!</div> - <div class="line indent0">Not harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose,</div> - <div class="line indent0">But musical as is Apollo’s lute</div> - <div class="line indent0">And a perpetual feast of nectar’d sweets,</div> - <div class="line indent0">Where no crude surfeit reigns.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noi">Tyndall’s and Hunt’s writings appealed to my imagination at that -time in the same way as Milton’s “Paradise Lost,” or as Longfellow’s -“Hiawatha,” or as William Cullen Bryant’s “Thanatopsis.” They convinced -me that the Slavs were not the only people who, as I had been inclined -to think, see the poetical side of science, but that everybody sees -it, because science on its abstract side is poetry; it is Divine -Philosophy, as Milton calls it. Science is a food which nourishes not -only the material but also the spiritual body of man. This was my pet -argument whenever I was called upon to defend science against Bilharz’s -attacks.</p> - -<p>My progress in Greek and Latin grammar under the guidance of Bilharz -was rapid even before I had decided to steer for Columbia. It was -a question of memory and of analysis. My memory had had a stiff -linguistic training<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>103</span> during the several years preceding that date, -in trying to master the English language with all its vagaries in -spelling and pronunciation. These vagaries I did not find in the -grammars of the classical languages, which appeared to me to be as -definite and as exact as the geometrical theorems in Euclid. Hadley’s -Greek Grammar did not differ much, I thought, from Davies’ Legendre’s -Geometry. Mathematics was always my strong point, and good memory is a -characteristic virtue of the Serb race; I, therefore, had an easy road -in my classical studies with Bilharz.</p> - -<p>As the time went on I saw that entrance into Columbia College was -within easy reach so far as my studies were concerned. But here -again the old question arose which I first asked myself three years -before, when the train, taking me from Nassau Hall to the Bowery, was -approaching New York. “Social unpreparedness” stared me in the face. I -could not define it, but I felt its existence. I shall try to describe -it. Columbia College, a daughter of great Trinity Church, an alma mater -of men like Hamilton, Jay, Livingston, and of many other gentlemen and -scholars who guided the destiny of these great United States—can that -great American institution, I asked myself, afford to enroll a raw -Serbian immigrant among its students; train me, an uncouth employee of -a cracker factory, to become one of its alumni? I thought of the first -sentence in the Declaration of Independence, but it did not persuade me -that I was an equal of the American boy who was prepared to meet all -the requirements necessary for entrance into Columbia College, because -I was convinced that in addition to entrance examinations there were -other requirements for which no prescribed examinations existed. The -college of Hamilton and of Jay expected certain other things which -I knew I did not have and could not get from books. A jump from the -Cortlandt Street factory to Columbia<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>104</span> College, from Jim and Bilharz to -patriarchal President Barnard and the famous professors at Columbia, -appeared to me like a jump over Columbia’s great and venerable -traditions. Old Lukanitch and his family and their American friends -helped me much to start building a bridge over this big gap, but the -more I associated with these people, who lived around humble Prince -Street, not far from the Bowery, the more I saw my shortcomings in what -I called, for want of a better name, “social preparedness.” “How shall -I feel,” I asked myself, “when I begin to associate with boys whose -parents live on Madison and Fifth Avenues, and whose ancestors were -friends of Hamilton and of Jay?” Their traditions, I was sure, gave -them an equipment which I did not have, unless my Serbian traditions -proved to be similar to their American traditions. My native village -attached great importance to traditions, and I knew how much the -peasants of Idvor would resent it if a stranger not in tune with their -traditions attempted to settle in their historic village.</p> - -<p>The examination of immigrants which I saw at Castle Garden, when I -landed, had made me think that traditions did not count for much in -Castle Garden. But my principal acquisition from my apprenticeship -as greenhorn had been the recognition that there are great American -traditions, and that the opportunities of this country are inaccessible -to immigrants who, like Bilharz, do not understand their meaning and -their vital importance in American life. Vila’s mother on the Delaware -farm, my experiences with Christian of West Street, and Jim’s little -sermons in the Cortlandt Street boiler-room had impressed this idea -upon my mind very strongly. The mental attitude of a young Serb from -the military frontier was naturally very receptive to impressions of -that kind. My respect for the traditions of my own race had prepared me -to respect the traditions of the country which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>105</span> I expected to adopt, -and hence I was afraid that my cultural equipment was not up to the -standards of the college boys who were brought up in accordance with -American traditions. My subsequent experience showed me that my anxiety -was justifiable.</p> - -<p>I have already mentioned that a short time before I ran away from -Prague and headed for the United States I had read a translation of -Harriet Beecher Stowe’s “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” It had been recommended -to me by my American friends who gave me a free ride in a first-class -compartment from Vienna to Prague. My mention of the name of this great -woman, together with the names of Lincoln and of Franklin, as Americans -that I knew something about, had won me the sympathy of the immigration -officials at Castle Garden, who, otherwise, might have deported me. -Her name was deeply engraved upon the tablets of my memory. The famous -Beecher-Tilton trial was much discussed in those days in the New York -press, and when I heard that Henry Ward Beecher was a brother of the -author of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” my opinion of Tilton was formed, and no -judge or jury could have changed it. Beecher’s photographs, which I -saw in my inspection tours on Broadway, confirmed me in my belief that -he was a brother worthy of his great sister. Young Lukanitch and his -sister knew of Beecher’s fame and, although strict Roman Catholics, -they consented to accompany me on my first pilgrimage to Beecher’s -Plymouth Church, and there I saw the great orator for the first time.</p> - -<p>His face looked to me like that of a lion and his long gray locks, -reaching almost to his shoulders, supported this illusion. The church -provided a setting worthy of his striking appearance. The grand organ -behind and above the pulpit supplied a harmonious musical background to -the magnificent singing of the large choir. I felt that the thrilling -music was tuning me up for the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>106</span> sermon which the great orator was -about to preach, and I was right. The sermon was free from involved -theological analysis; it dealt with simple questions of human life -and its determination by human habits. It was a dramatic and poetic -presentation of the little sermons which Jim preached in the Cortlandt -Street boiler-room, but in a very plain form of statement. The fact, -however, that I found many spiritual bonds between great Plymouth -Church and Jim’s humble boiler-room shows me to-day why Beecher touched -the heart-strings of the plain people. He helped them to solve some of -their problems of life just as Jim tried to help me solve mine. But -Jim was not a cultured man and he delivered his chunks of practical -wisdom in the same offhand manner in which he fed shovelfuls of coal -to the busy fires under his boilers. Beecher, on the other hand, was a -great orator and a great poet, and every little grain of wisdom stored -up in human life was placed before his congregation with all the force -of his overpowering personality and with all the embellishments with -which the imagination of a poetical nature could clothe it. I felt -thrills creeping over my whole body as I listened, and the effect was -not only mental and spiritual, but also physical, undoubtedly because -of the quickening of the blood’s circulation produced by the mental -exhilaration. Bilharz, although a rigid Roman Catholic, admitted, after -hearing Beecher several times, that great sermons are possible even -without any theological flavoring. “But,” said he in his usual dramatic -way, “everything is possible to a poetic soul which is propelled by the -wings of a genius.” A remarkable concession from a man of Bilharz’s -training and mental attitude!</p> - -<p>Jim, who was a strict Presbyterian, rejoiced that I had picked out -a Congregational Church for religious worship, and old Lukanitch -confessed that if I persuaded his children to go with me to Plymouth -Church very often they might desert the Roman Catholic faith of their -ancestors.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>107</span> I felt assured, however, that St. Sava and the Orthodoxy -of my mother would never lose me through the influence of Beecher’s -genius, because Beecher was preaching to all humanity and not to a -particular creed. His words were like the life-giving radiation of the -sun, which shines upon all things alike. I saw in him a living example -of that type of American who, like Hamilton, Jay, Livingston, and the -other great men of whom I had heard at the Philadelphia exposition, -were the spiritual and the intellectual giants of the Revolutionary -period. My study of the history of Hamilton’s life had shown me -that the number of these giants was large; many of them signed the -Declaration of Independence. I did not fail to see in this a most -propitious omen of a great future for the country. What a spiritual -giant Lincoln must have been, I thought, when I heard Beecher refer to -him with humblest veneration! Beecher was the sunrise which dispelled -much of that mist which prevented my eyes, just as it prevents all -foreign eyes, from seeing the clear outline of American civilization.</p> - -<p>Four years previously I had for the first time attended an American -church service in Delaware City, and had carried away the impression -that in matters of public worship America was not up to the standards -prescribed by the Serbian Church. Beecher and his Plymouth Church -changed my judgment completely. Beecher’s congregation seemed to me -like a beehive full of honey-hearted beings. Each of them reminded -me of the Americans who had befriended me at the railroad-station in -Vienna, and had rescued me from the official dragon who threatened -to send me back to the prisons of the military frontier. I firmly -believed that Beecher was preaching a new gospel, the American gospel -of humanity, the same gospel which his great sister had preached. Every -member of his congregation looked to me like a faithful disciple of -this doctrine.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>108</span> -One of those honey-hearted disciples was a Doctor Charles Shepard, -of Columbia Heights, Brooklyn. He and his family were Unitarians, I -think, but they often attended Plymouth Church on account of their -great admiration for Beecher. Doctor Shepard’s family was, in my -opinion, a family of saints; generosity, refinement, and spiritual -discipline filled the golden atmosphere of their home. When I disclosed -my plans to the good doctor, he offered to help me carry them out. -He was an ardent advocate of the curative powers of hydropathy in -conjunction with proper diet and total abstinence from alcohol and -tobacco. “Cleanliness is next to godliness” was his motto, and by -cleanliness he meant freedom from unclean habits of every kind. His -theory was successfully practised in his hydropathic establishment, and -he flourished, and his institution was famous. His very old father, -over eighty years of age, who managed the office of the establishment, -needed assistance, and Doctor Shepard offered me the position and -spoke of getting a friend of his to help me prepare for entrance to -Columbia. His friend was Professor Webster, who taught Greek and Latin -at the Adelphi Academy in Brooklyn. I jumped at Doctor Shepard’s offer, -although the prospect of deserting Jim and Bilharz made me hesitate. -But Jim applauded my decision and he recalled his prophecy that I -should soon outgrow the opportunities of the New England Cracker -Factory. Bilharz expressed his gratification that he had contributed to -my progress, and he certainly had, both by what he praised and by what -he condemned. He was sincere in both, but his praise was founded upon a -rare knowledge of classical literatures, while his condemnation was due -to prejudice against science and against American democracy. The real -secret of his grip upon my imagination I shall disclose later.</p> - -<p>Professor Webster was an ideal pedagogue; his pupils were boys and -girls from some of the best families of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>109</span> Brooklyn. Their teacher was -to them an apostle of classical culture, in which they were much -interested, partly because of their admiration for their beloved -teacher. After a few private lessons he invited me to join his classes -in Greek and Latin, where I was received with many signs of cordiality -from both the boys and the girls. Like myself, they were preparing for -college. I attended these classes three times a week and entertained -them much by my continental pronunciation of Greek and Latin, which -I had learned from Bilharz, who had also taught me to recite the -Greek and Latin hexameter with proper intonation. This delighted the -heart of Professor Webster and of his pupils. Recitations of Greek -and Latin verses with faultless rhythm were all which at first I -could offer to the entertainment of my classmates. After a while I -entertained some of them with Serbian poetry and also with Serbian kolo -dancing. I made every effort to make them forget that I was a Balkan -barbarian; but everybody, as if reading my thoughts, assured me that -I was contributing more to the Adelphi Academy than I was getting in -return. I knew better. I felt that the association with those splendid -boys and girls and with Professor Webster contributed much more to my -preparation for Columbia than all the book work which I had ever done -anywhere.</p> - -<p>Doctor Shepard and his family saw the rapid change in me, I thought, -and many of their evidences of approval were very encouraging. When -I first met Doctor Shepard he was strongly pro-Turkish whenever the -Balkan war, which was raging at that time, was discussed. He had a -notion that the Serbians were a rebellious and barbarous race. During -the early part of 1879 he gradually shifted to the Serbian side, and I -was bold enough to take all credit for it to myself. I considered his -and his family’s approval the best test of the success of my efforts to -understand the American standards of conduct. This success<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>110</span> meant much -more to me in my preparation for college than the success in my studies.</p> - -<p>In an interscholastic athletic contest I volunteered to run in a -ten-mile race without any previous training, and won. From that day on -my friends at the Adelphi Academy regarded me as one of their number, -and it was a liberal education to me to listen to their eulogies of -<em>my loyalty to them and to their institution</em>, which, they said, -I displayed when I fought under the Adelphi banner on the athletic -field. Legends began to grow up among the Adelphi boys and girls about -a Serbian youngster who had won the ten-mile race without previous -training. When your young and enthusiastic friends begin to indulge -in legends about you, be assured that you are getting on some. But -legends, like nursery rhymes, will lull you to sleep if you are not -very, very wide-awake. This experience made me see clearly what young -Lukanitch had meant when he told me what oarsmanship might do for me at -Columbia even if I did not know much Greek and Latin. I was confirmed -in this when the boys of the Adelphi Academy who expected to enter -Yale or Princeton used much of their persuasive powers to steer me to -these colleges. It encouraged me much and diminished greatly my anxiety -about “social unpreparedness.” But my answer was that the college of -Hamilton, Jay, and Livingston, in the City of New York, was the port -for which I was sailing, and that Beecher’s church in Brooklyn would be -one of the anchors to keep me there, and that Beecher, as far as I was -concerned, would be a part of Columbia College.</p> - -<p>The summer vacation of 1879 was approaching, and I knew that all my -academic friends in New York and Brooklyn would leave for the country. -There was nothing to keep me in Brooklyn except my obligations to good -Doctor Shepard. He excused me when I told him that I wished to devote -all my time during that summer to study, so as to insure my passing -with a high mark all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>111</span> my entrance examinations in the following autumn. -A high mark would gain me freedom from all tuition fees at Columbia, -a very serious consideration. Doctor Shepard approved, and I moved to -what I called, jokingly, my summer “villa” on the Passaic River, near -Rutherford Park, New Jersey. It was a tiny little cottage near the bank -of the river; it had not been occupied for a long time, and it was -looked after by an old Danish woman who lived quite near it. She kept -two cows and a lot of chickens and ducks and sold butter and eggs and -fowl. Her son Christopher peddled kindling-wood in Passaic, Belleville, -and Newark, New Jersey. The old lady consented to let me live in the -cottage until a permanent tenant should appear, and she was willing to -take care of me for a certain payment per week. I accepted her terms on -condition that she allow me to work off a certain part of the agreed -amount by sawing kindling-wood from ten to twelve in the morning and -from four to six in the afternoon. My suggestion made her thoughtful, -and she finally confessed her fear that my exercises before meals might -give me such an appetite that I should eat her out of house and home. -We agreed to try the scheme for a week, and we were both satisfied with -the result. She took good care of me, and I furnished her with more -kindling-wood for her son’s trade than she had ever expected. Moreover, -the regular help, who was hired for the specific purpose of cutting -kindling-wood, increased his output, in order to keep up with me. I -enjoyed the work hugely as means of splendid exercise, and rejoiced in -making the output as large as possible. The old lady was delighted with -the unexpected result. Every two-hour period of sawing and splitting -of kindling-wood was followed by a dip and swim in the Passaic River, -and by the end of the summer I was all muscle and could have run a -race of twenty miles without any previous training. This proved a very -valuable asset in the beginning<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>112</span> of my college career; muscle and brawn -are splendid things to take along when one enters college, and have -while in college. Several incidents in my college career bear upon the -interesting feature of athletics in American college life, and I shall -describe them later even at the risk of appearing egotistical. This -feature is characteristically American and is quite unknown on the -continent of Europe.</p> - -<p>Eight hours each day I devoted to study: three in the morning to Greek, -three in the afternoon to Latin, and two in the evening to other -studies. It was a most profitable summer outing of over three months, -and it cost me only thirty dollars; the rest was paid in sawing and -splitting of kindling-wood. Whenever I read now about the Kaiser’s -activities at Doorn, I think of my summer activities in 1879, and I -wonder who in the world suggested my scheme to William Hohenzollern!</p> - -<p>During the last week of September of that year I presented myself at -Columbia for entrance examinations. They were oral, and were conducted -by the professors themselves and not by junior instructors. The first -two books of the Iliad, excepting the catalogue of ships, and four -orations of Cicero, I knew by heart. My leisure time at my Passaic -River “villa” had permitted me these pleasant mental gymnastics; I -wanted to show off before Bilharz with my Greek and Latin quotations; -to say nothing of the wonderful mental exhilaration which a young -student gets from reading aloud and memorizing the words of Homer and -of Cicero. The professors were greatly surprised and asked me why I -had taken so much trouble. I told them that it was no trouble, because -Serbs delight in memorizing beautiful lines. The Serbs of Montenegro, -for instance, know by heart most of the lines which their great poet -Nyegosh ever wrote, and particularly his great epic “The Mountain -Glory.” I told them also of illiterate Baba Batikin, the minstrel of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>113</span> -my native village, who knew most of the old Serbian ballads by heart. -Besides, I assured the professors, I wanted to do in Greek and Latin -as well as I possibly could, so as to gain free tuition. For the other -studies I was not afraid, I told them, and they assured me that my -chances for free tuition were certainly good. The other examinations -gave me no trouble, thanks to my training with Bilharz and with the -lecturers in the evening classes at Cooper Union. A note from the -Registrar’s office informed me a few days later that I was enrolled as -a student in Columbia College with freedom from all tuition fees. There -was no person in the United States on that glorious day happier than I!</p> - -<p>The college atmosphere which I found at Columbia at that time gave me -a new sensation. I did not understand it at first and misinterpreted -many things. The few days preceding the opening of the college sessions -I spent chasing around for a boarding-house, while my classmates were -hanging around the college buildings, making arrangements to join this -or that fraternity, and also solidifying the line of defense of the -freshmen against the hostile sophomores. There was a lively process of -organization going on under the leadership of groups of boys who came -from the same preparatory schools. These groups led and the others -were expected to follow without a murmur. Insubordination or even -indifference was condemned as lack of college spirit. This spirit was -necessary among the freshmen particularly, because, as I was informed -later, there was a great common danger—the sophomores! I saw some of -this feverish activity going on, but did not understand its meaning -and hence remained outside of it, as if I were a stranger and not a -member of the freshman class, which I heard described, by the freshmen -themselves, as the best freshman class in the history of Columbia. -The sophomores denied this in a most provoking manner; hence the -hostility. Nobody<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>114</span> paid any attention to me; nobody knew me, because I -did not come from any of the preparatory schools which prepared boys -for Columbia. One day I saw on the campus two huge waves of lively -youngsters beating against each other just like inrolling waves of -the sea lifting on their backs the returning waves which had been -reflected from the cliffs of the shore. The freshmen were defending -a cane against fierce attacks of the sophomores. It was the historic -Columbia cane rush, I was told by Michael, the college janitor, -who stood alongside of me as I looked on. It was not a real fight -resulting in broken noses or blackened eyes, but just a most vigorous -push-and-pull contest, the sophomores trying to take possession of a -cane which a strong freshman, surrounded by a stalwart body-guard of -freshmen, was holding and guarding just as a guard of fanatic monks -would defend the sacred relics of a great saint. This freshmen group -was the centre of the scrimmage and it stood there like a high rock in -the midst of an angry sea. Coats and shirts were torn off the backs of -the brave fighters, some attacking and others defending the central -group, but not a single ugly swear-word was heard nor did I see a -single sign of intentional bloodshed. Members of the junior and senior -classes watched as umpires. Michael, the janitor, who knew everybody -on the college campus as a shepherd knows his sheep, was not quite -certain about my identity. He asked me whether I was a freshman, and -when I said “yes,” he asked me why in the world I was not in the rush, -defending the freshmen body-guard. He looked so anxious and worried -that I felt sure of being guilty of some serious offense against old -Columbia traditions. I immediately took off my coat and stiff shirt -and plunged into the surging waves of sophomores and freshmen and -had almost reached the central body-guard of freshmen, eager to join -in its defense, when a sophomore, named Frank Henry, grabbed me and -pulled me back, telling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>115</span> me that I had no business to cross the line -of umpires at that late moment. I did not know the rules of the game -and shoved him aside and we clinched. He was the strongest man in -Columbia College, as I learned later, but my kindling-wood operations -on the banks of the Passaic River had made me a stiff opponent. We -wrestled and wrestled and would have wrestled till sunset like Prince -Marco and the Arab Moussa Kessedjia in the old Serbian ballads, if the -umpires had not proclaimed the cane rush a draw. The main show being -over, the side show which Henry and I were keeping up had no further -useful purpose to serve, and we stopped and shook hands. He was glad -to stop, he admitted, and so was I, but he told my classmates that -“if that terrible Turk had been selected a member of the freshmen -body-guard the result of the cane rush might have been different.” I -told him that I was a Serb, and not a Turk, and he apologized, saying -that he could never draw very fine distinctions between the various -races in the Balkans. “But, whatever race you are,” said he, “you will -be a good fellow if you will learn to <em>play the game</em>.” Splendid -advice from a college boy! “<em>Play the game</em>,” what a wonderful -phrase! I studied it long, and the more I thought about it the more -I was convinced that one aspect of the history of this country with -all its traditions is summed up in these three words. No foreigner -can understand this country who does not know the full meaning of -this phrase, which I first heard from a Columbia College youngster. -No foreign language can so translate the phrase as to reproduce its -brevity and at the same time convey its full meaning. But, when I -heard it, I thought of the bootblacks and newsboys who, five years -previously, had acted as umpires when I defended my right to wear a -red fez. To “play the game” according to the best traditions of the -land which offered me all of its opportunities was always my idea of -Americanization.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>116</span> But how many immigrants to this land can be made to -understand this?</p> - -<p>Some little time after this incident I was approached by the captain -of the freshman crew, who asked me to join his crew. I remembered -young Lukanitch’s opinion about oarsmanship at Columbia, and I was -sorely tempted. But, unfortunately, I had only three hundred and eleven -dollars when I started my college career, and I knew that if I was to -retain my free tuition by high standing in scholarship and also earn -further money for my living expenses I should have no time for other -activities. “Study, work for a living, no participation in college -activities outside of the recitation-room! Do you call that college -training?” asked the captain of the freshman crew, looking perfectly -surprised at my story, which, being the son of wealthy parents, he -did not understand. I admitted that it was not, in the full sense of -the word, but that I was not in a position to avail myself of all the -opportunities which Columbia offered me, and that, in fact, I had -already obtained a great deal more than an immigrant could reasonably -have expected. I touched his sympathetic chord, and I felt that I had -made a new friend. The result of this interview was that my classmates -refrained from asking me to join any of the college activities for -fear that my inability to comply with their request might make me -feel badly. I had their sympathy, but I missed their fellowship, and -therefore I missed in my freshman year much of that splendid training -outside of the classroom which an American college offers to its -students.</p> - -<p>At the end of the freshman year I gained two prizes of one hundred -dollars each, one in Greek and the other in mathematics. They were won -in stiff competitive examinations and meant a considerable scholastic -success, but, nevertheless, they excited little interest among my -classmates. Results of examinations were considered a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>117</span> personal matter -of the individual student himself and not of his fellow classmen. The -prizes were practically the only money upon which I could rely to -help carry me through my second year. The estimated budget for that -year, however, was not fully provided for, and I looked for a job -for the long summer vacation. I did not want a job in the city. My -kindling-wood activity of the preceding summer suited me better, and -after some consultation with my friend Christopher, the kindling-wood -peddler of Rutherford Park, I decided to accept a job on a contract -of his to mow hay during that summer in the various sections of the -Hackensack lowlands. No Columbia athlete ever had a better opportunity -to develop his back and biceps than I had during that summer. I made -good use of it, and earned seventy-five dollars net.</p> - -<p>When my sophomore year began I awaited the cane rush which, according -to old Columbia custom, took place between the sophomores and the -freshmen at the beginning of each academic year, and I was prepared -for it; I knew also what it meant to “play the game.” This time my -class had to do the attacking and I helped with a vengeance. The -muscles which had been hardened in the Hackensack meadows proved most -effective and the result was that shortly I had the freshmen’s cane on -the ground, and was lying flat over it, covering it with my chest. The -pressure of a score of freshmen and sophomores piled up on top of me -threatened to squeeze the cane through my chest bone, which already, I -imagined, was pressing against my lungs, my difficult breathing leading -me to think that my last hour had come. Fortunately, the umpires -cleared away the lively heap of struggling boys on top of me, and I -breathed freely again. Some freshmen were found stretched alongside -of me with their hands holding on to the stick. An equal number of -sophomores held on, and, consequently, the umpires declared the rush -a draw. Nobody was anxious to have another<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>118</span> rush, and it was proposed -by the freshmen to settle the question of class superiority by a -wrestling-match, two best out of three falls, catch as catch can. They -had a big fellow who had some fame as a wrestler of great strength, and -they issued a defiant challenge to the sophomores. My classmates held -a meeting in order to pick a match for the freshman giant, but nobody -seemed to be quite up to the job. Finally I volunteered, declaring -that I was not afraid to tackle the freshman giant. “Do you expect to -down him with Greek verses and mathematical formulæ?” shouted some of -my classmates, who had grave doubts about the muscle and the wrestling -ability of a fellow who had won Greek and mathematical prizes. They -knew nothing about my strenuous mowing in the Hackensack meadows -during three long months of that summer. The captain of the class crew -approached me, felt my biceps, my chest, and my back, and shouted, -“All right!” The wrestling-match came off, and the freshman giant -had no show with a boy who had learned the art of wrestling on the -pasture-lands of Idvor, and had held his own against experienced mowers -in the Hackensack meadows. The victory was quick and complete, and my -classmates carried me in triumph to Fritz’s saloon, not far from the -college, where many a toast was drunk to “Michael the Serbian.” From -that day on my classmates called me by my first name and took me up as -if I had been a distinguished descendant of Alexander Hamilton himself. -My scholastic victory in Greek and mathematics meant nothing to my -classmates, because it was a purely personal matter, but my athletic -victory meant everything, because it was a victory of my whole class. -Had I won my scholastic victory in competition with a representative -from another college, then the matter would have had an entirely -different aspect. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Esprit de corps</i> is one of those splendid -things which American college life cultivates, and I had the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>119</span> good -fortune to reap many benefits from it. He who pays no attention to this -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">esprit de corps</i> in an American college runs the risk of being -dubbed a “greasy grind.”</p> - -<p>The sophomore year opened auspiciously. Eight of my classmates formed -a class, the Octagon, and invited me to coach them in Greek and in -mathematics, twice a week. The captain of the class crew was a member -of it. I suspected that he remembered my reasons for refusing to join -the freshman crew and wanted to help. The Octagon class was a great -help in more ways than one. I gave instruction in wrestling also to -several classmates, in exchange for instruction in boxing. This was -my physical exercise, and it was a strenuous one. Devereux Emmet, -a descendant of the great Irish patriot, was one of these exchange -instructors; he could stand any amount of punishment in our boxing -bouts, which impressed upon my mind the truth of the saying that -“blood will tell.” Before the sophomore year was over my classmates -acknowledged me not only a champion in Greek and in mathematics, but -also a champion in wrestling and boxing. The combination was somewhat -unusual and legends began to be spun about it, but they did not turn -my head, nor lull me to sleep, not even when they led to my election -as class president for the junior year. This was indeed a great -compliment, for, because of the junior promenade, the dance given -annually by the junior class, it was customary to elect for that year -a class president who was socially very prominent. A distinguished -classmate, a descendant of three great American names, and a shining -light in New York’s younger social set, was my chief opponent and I -begged to withdraw in his favor; a descendant of Hamilton inspired awe. -But my opponent would not listen to it. He was a member of the most -select fraternity and not at all unpopular, but many of my classmates -objected to him, although he was the grandson of a still living -former Secretary of State and chairman<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>120</span> of the board of trustees of -Columbia College. They thought that he paid too much attention to the -fashion-plates of London, and dressed too fashionably. There were other -Columbia boys at that time who, I thought, dressed just as fashionably, -and yet they were very popular; but they were fine athletes, whereas -my opponent was believed to rely too much upon the history of his long -name and upon his splendid appearance. He certainly was a fine example -of classical repose; his classmates, however, admired action. He was -like a young Alcibiades in breeding, looks, and pose, but not in action.</p> - -<p>Some of the old American colleges have been accused from time to time -of encouraging snobbery and a spirit of aristocracy which is not in -harmony with American ideas of democracy. My personal experience as -student at Columbia gives competency to my opinion upon that subject. -Snobs will be found in every country and clime, but there were fewer -snobs at Columbia in those days than in many other much less exalted -places, although Columbia at that time was accused of being a nest -of dudes and snobs. This was one of the arguments advanced by those -friends of mine at the Adelphi Academy who tried to persuade me to -go to Princeton or Yale. The spirit of aristocracy was there, but it -was an aristocracy of the same kind as existed in my native peasant -village. It was a spirit of unconscious reverence for the best American -traditions. I say “unconscious,” and by that I mean absence of noisy -chauvinism and of that racial intolerance by which the Teutonism of -Austria and the Magyarism of Hungary had driven me away from Prague -and from Panchevo. A name with a fine American tradition back of it -attracted much attention, but it was only a letter of recommendation. -He who was found wanting in his make-up and in his conduct when -weighed by the best Columbia College traditions—and they were a -part of American traditions—had a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>121</span> lonely time during his college -career, in spite of his illustrious name or his family’s great wealth. -Foreign-born students, like Cubans and South Americans, met with a -respectful indifference so long as they remained foreigners. Needless -to say, many of them adopted rapidly the attractive ways of the -Columbia boys. But nobody would have resented it, or even paid any -attention to it, if they had retained their foreign ways. A hopeless -fellow became a member of that very small class of students known at -that time as “muckers.” They complained bitterly of snobbery and of -aristocracy. I do not believe that either the spirit of plutocracy, -or of socialism and communism, or of any other un-American current -of thought could ever start from an American college like Columbia -of those days, and bore its way into American life. That type of -aristocracy which made the American college immune from contagion -by un-American influence existed; it was very exacting, and it was -much encouraged. But when American college boys, accused of bowing to -the spirit of aristocracy, have among them a Hamilton, a Livingston, -a DeWitt, and several descendants of Jay, and yet elect for class -president the penniless son of a Serbian peasant village, because they -admire his mental and physical efforts to learn and to comply with -Columbia’s traditions, one can rest assured that the spirit of American -democracy was very much alive in those college boys.</p> - -<p>My success with the Octagon class established my reputation as a doctor -for “lame ducks.” This was the name of those students who failed in -their college examinations, usually examinations in Greek, Latin, and -mathematics. Lame ducks needed a special treatment, called coaching. -I became quite an expert in it, and presently I saw a flock of lame -ducks gathering around me, offering liberal rewards for a speedy cure. -My summer vacations no longer called me to the Passaic River to cut -kindling-wood,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>122</span> nor to the Hackensack meadows to strain my back to -the utmost trying to keep up with experienced mowers. Coaching lame -ducks was incomparably more remunerative and also left me with plenty -of leisure time for tennis, horseback riding, or swimming and diving -contests. During the college sessions I usually had in charge several -bad cases of academic lameness, cases that could not be cured during -the summer vacations, but had to be carefully nursed throughout the -whole academic year. Financially I fared better than most of my young -professors, and I saved, looking ahead for the realization of a pet -dream of mine. My coaching experience was remunerative not only from -the material but also from the cultural side; it brought me in touch -with some of the best exponents of New York’s social life, where I -found a hearty welcome, a friendly sympathy, and many lessons which I -considered as among the most valuable acquisitions in my college life. -One of them deserves special mention here.</p> - -<p>Lewis Morris Rutherfurd, a trustee of Columbia College, was at that -time the head of the famous Rutherfurd family. He was a gentleman of -leisure and devoted himself to science and particularly to photographic -astronomy, just as did his famous friend, Doctor John William Draper, -the author of the “History of the Intellectual Development of Europe.” -Rutherfurd was a pioneer worker in this field of astronomy, and his -photographs of the moon and of the stars were always regarded by the -scientists of the world as most valuable contributions to astronomy. -The historic Rutherfurd mansion, with its astronomical observatory, -was on Eleventh Street and Second Avenue. Rutherfurd’s sons, Lewis and -Winthrop, were my fellow students at Columbia; Lewis was a year ahead -of me and Winthrop was a year below me. Through their cousin, a chum -and classmate of mine, I became acquainted with them. No handsomer boys -ever sat in Hamilton Hall: tall, athletic, and graceful, just like -two<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>123</span> splendid products of the physical culture of classical Greece. -One of them held the American championship in racquets, and the Long -Island hunt clubs counted them among their best steeplechase riders. -Lewis just squeezed his way through college, but Winthrop, owing to -circumstances beyond his control, threatened to drop by the academic -roadside; the load of some seven conditions was too heavy and too -discouraging.</p> - -<p>My chum, Winthrop’s cousin mentioned above, was a brilliant raconteur, -and he used to spin out with wonderful skill many a funny tale about -my coaching experiences, describing in a grotesque manner how an -audacious youngster, straying over here from a Serbian peasant village, -was bullying young aristocrats of New York, and how these aristocrats -were submitting to it like little lambs. Rutherfurd, senior, who was -my chum’s uncle, heard some of these humorous tales. He enjoyed them -hugely, and they suggested to him a scheme for diminishing somewhat -his son’s heavy load of conditions. He and his family were to spend -the summer of 1882 in Europe, and he suggested that Winthrop and I go -to his country place, where we could rule supreme and spend the summer -preparing for Winthrop’s autumn examinations. Winthrop consented, in -order to please his family, and he agreed to the definite programme of -work which I prescribed. Rutherfurd, senior, was anxious that Winthrop -should breathe the atmosphere of Columbia College for four years, even -if he should not get the full benefit of the college curriculum. He -had a view of college education which was somewhat novel to me and -made me understand more clearly the question which the captain of the -freshman crew had addressed to me in my freshman year: “Study, work -for a living, no participation in college activities outside of the -recitation rooms! Do you call that college training?” But I shall -return to this a little later.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>124</span> -“Winthrop is very fond of you,” said Rutherfurd, senior, before he -sailed for Europe, “and if you fail to pull him through, that will be -the end of his college career. Your job is a difficult one, almost -hopeless, but if you should succeed you would place me under a very -great obligation.” I was already under great obligations to him, for he -had disclosed a view of the world of intellect before my eyes such as -nobody else ever had. New York never produced a finer type of gentleman -and scholar than was Lewis Rutherfurd. His personality impressed me -as Henry Ward Beecher’s had, and I could easily have persuaded myself -that he was the reincarnation of Benjamin Franklin. I vowed to spare no -effort in my attempts to “place” him “under a very great obligation.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop co-operated at first. But Winthrop’s friends at the Racquet -Club, at the Rockaway Hunt Club, and at Newport were puzzled, and they -inquired what strange influences kept Winthrop in monastic seclusion -at the Rutherfurd Stuyvesant estate in the backwoods of New Jersey. -Besides, a stableful of steeplechasers, which had won many prizes, -stood idle and looked in vain for their master, Winthrop, to train -them. Even the servants on the estate looked puzzled and could not -decipher the mysterious change that had come over their young autocrat. -A foreign-born youngster, a namesake of Michael, the Irish gardener on -the estate, seemed to be supreme in authority, and that puzzled the -servants still more. Winthrop was making great scholastic efforts, in -order to please his distinguished father, but he was a high-strung -youth and after a while his behavior began to suggest the fretting of -a thoroughbred protesting against the bit handled by the heavy touch -of an unskilled trainer. I saw a crisis approaching, and it finally -came. Winthrop suddenly refused to do another stroke of work unless the -programme of work was greatly modified to permit him to make occasional -trips to the Racquet Club, to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>125</span> Rockaway Hunt Club, and to Newport. -I knew what that meant, and promptly refused; a hot discussion -followed, and some harsh words were spoken, resulting in a challenge -by Winthrop; I accepted and agreed that the best man was to have his -way during the remainder of the summer. Winthrop, the great racquet -player of America, the famous steeplechase rider of Long Island, and -the young aristocrat, kept his word, and responded eagerly to my calls -for additional scholastic efforts. He was a noble, handsome, and manly -American youth whose friendship I was proud to possess.</p> - -<p>In the autumn Winthrop got rid of most of his conditions, proceeded -with his class, and eventually graduated from Columbia in 1884. My -imaginative chum, Winthrop’s cousin, composed a great tale describing -this incident and called it: “A Serbian Peasant versus an American -Aristocrat.” Those who had the good fortune to enjoy the humor of this -tale (and among them was F. Marion Crawford, the novelist and cousin -of my chum) pronounced it a great literary accomplishment, and they -all agreed that Winthrop was the real hero of the story; he had played -the game like a thoroughbred. Mr. Rutherfurd, senior, enjoyed the tale -as much as anybody, and he was delighted with the result of our summer -work. Winthrop’s behavior did not surprise him, because, he assured -me, Winthrop played the game as every American gentleman’s son would -have played it. “Every one of your classmates,” exclaimed this trustee -of Columbia College, “would have done the same thing; or he would be -unworthy of a Columbia degree.” The first function of the American -college, according to him, was to train its students in the principles -of conduct becoming an American who is loyal to the best traditions of -his country.</p> - -<p>My senior year opened even more auspiciously than my sophomore or -my junior year had. Lewis Rutherfurd,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>126</span> trustee of Columbia College, -gentleman and scholar, and famous scientist, became my mentor. -Winthrop’s success was to place him under very great obligations to me, -he had said before he sailed for Europe in the spring, and after his -return his actions proved that he had meant even more than he had said. -A father could not have been more solicitous about my future plans than -he was, and his advice indicated that he understood my case much better -than I did myself. At the beginning of my senior year I was still -undecided as to what I was to do after graduation, and I began to feel -anxious; my mentor’s advice was most welcome, and it certainly was one -of the determining factors of my future plans.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In my preceding account of my preparations for college and of my -life in college there is much which sounds like a glorification of -muscle and of the fighting spirit. I feel almost like apologizing -for it, but do I really owe an apology? My whole life up to this -point of my story was steered by conditions which demanded muscle and -the fighting spirit. To pass six weeks during each one of several -summers as herdsman’s assistant in company with twelve other lively -Serb youngsters as fellow assistants, meant violent competitions in -wrestling, swimming, herdsman’s hockey, and other strenuous games for -hours and hours each day, and one’s position in this lively community -depended entirely upon muscle and the fighting spirit. Magyarism in -Panchevo and Teutonism in Prague produced a reaction which appealed -to muscle and to the fighting spirit, which finally drove me to the -land of Lincoln. Muscle and the fighting spirit of the bootblacks and -newsboys on Broadway met me on the very first day when I ventured -to pass beyond the narrow confines of Castle Garden, in order to -catch my first glimpse of the great American metropolis. No sooner -had I finished serving my apprenticeship as greenhorn, and advanced<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>127</span> -to a higher civic level, than I encountered again muscle and the -fighting spirit of the college boys. In the beginning of my college -career I found very little difference between the pasture-lands of my -native village and the campus of the American college. The spirit of -playfulness and the ferment of life in the hearts of youth were the -same in both, and were manifested in the same way, namely, in athletics -which encourage a glorification of muscle and of the fighting spirit. -This was most fortunate for me, because it offered me a wide avenue -by which I could enter with perfect ease into that wonderful activity -called college life. Other avenues existed, but to a Serbian youth who -but a few years before had been a herdsman’s assistant these other -avenues were practically closed. I have described the avenue which -was open to me, but with no intention to indulge in an egotistical -glorification of that avenue.</p> - -<p>Rutherfurd, my mentor, scholar, scientist, and trustee of Columbia -College, did not believe as some people do that athletics would ever -cause our colleges to degenerate into gladiatorial schools. Athletics -in the form of wrestling and boxing did not interfere in the least -with my scholarship. Healthy young people and healthy young nations -are prone to worship the heroic element in human life, thought trustee -Rutherfurd, and, according to him, the Greeks, by the art of physical -culture, prevented this exuberance of youth from degenerating into -brutality. He was longing forty years ago, and I am still longing -to-day, for the time when American colleges will have a four years’ -course in physical culture, conducted by medical and athletic experts. -His sons, he thought, practised this art by their devotion to the game -of racquets and of steeplechase riding. They were splendid athletes, -but nevertheless they were mellow-hearted and gentle youths. The fact -that their scholarship was not high did not disturb their learned -father, because much of his own scholarship<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>128</span> and scientific learning, -he told me, had been acquired long after he had graduated from Williams -College.</p> - -<p>Many of my fellow students were, just like myself, very fond of -athletics and of other activities outside of the college curriculum, -and yet we were enthusiastic students of Greek literature, of history -and economics, of constitutional history of the United States, and of -English literature. But here was the secret: Professor Merriam was a -wonderful expounder of the great achievements of Greek civilization; -Professor Monroe Smith made every one of us feel that history was an -indispensable part of our daily life; Professor Richmond Mayo-Smith -made us believe that political economy was one of the most important -subjects in the world; and Professor Burgess’ lectures on the -Constitutional History of the United States made us all imagine that -we understood the spirit of 1776 just as well as Hamilton did. These -professors were the great scholars of Columbia College when I was a -student there, and they had most attractive personalities too. The -personality of the professors, like that of the famous Van Amringe, -and their learning, like that of the venerable President Barnard, -were the best safeguards for students who showed a tendency to -devote themselves too much to the worship of muscle and the fighting -spirit, and of activities outside of the college curriculum. Fill -your professorial chairs in colleges with men of broad learning, and -of commanding personality, and do not worry about the alleged evil -influences of athletics, and of other college activities outside of -the recitation-room. That was the recommendation of trustee Rutherfurd -forty years ago; to-day I add: the college needs great professors just -as much as the various research departments of a university need them; -perhaps even more.</p> - -<p>Literary societies, college journalism, glee-club practice, and -exercises in the dramatic art consumed, when I was a college student, -just as much of the college student’s time<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>129</span> as athletics did. They -and athletics constituted the outside college activities. The -recitation-room brought the student into touch with the personalities -of the professors; college activities outside of the recitation-room, -whether they were athletics or anything else, brought the student -into touch with the personalities of his fellow students. Each one -of these influences had, according to the experiences of my college -life, its own great value, and contributed its distinct share to what -is usually called the character-forming of the college student, but -what Rutherfurd, the Columbia College trustee, called training in the -principles of conduct becoming an American who is loyal to the best -traditions of his country. Neither one nor the other influence can be -weakened without crippling seriously that great object which trustee -Rutherfurd called “the historical mission of the American college.”</p> - -<p>There was another educational activity which should be mentioned -here. My regular attendance at Plymouth Church I considered one of -my most important college activities outside of the recitation-room. -Beecher’s sermons and Booth’s interpretations of Shakespeare were -sources of stirring inspiration. They occupied a very high place among -my spiritual guides. Beecher, Booth, and several other men of genius -who were active in New York in those days were, as far as my college -training was concerned, members of the Columbia College faculty. This -is what I probably meant when I said to my friends at the Adelphi -Academy that “Columbia College in the City of New York” was the port -for which I was sailing and that Beecher’s church in Brooklyn was a -component part of Columbia College. Taking college activities in this -broader sense I always believed that the spiritual, intellectual, and -artistic activities in the city of New York were component parts of -Columbia College; they certainly contributed much to the fulness of -my college life. I often wondered whether this was in the minds of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>130</span> -those who framed the official name “Columbia College in the City of New -York,” when the old name “King’s College” was abandoned in 1787.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I have nearly finished the story of my college career, and I am aware -that it is silent on a subject which was always dear to my heart; that -subject is science. A young lad who was stimulated so much by the lives -of the men represented in the Cooper Union library painting, entitled -“Men of Progress”; by the splendid scientific exhibits in Philadelphia -in 1876; by Jim’s boiler-room demonstrations supplemented by Cooper -Union lectures on heat; by Tyndall’s and Hunt’s poetic descriptions of -scientific achievements; and above all by his own visions concerning -physical phenomena on the pasture-lands of his native village—that lad -goes through college, and the story of his college career is nearly -closed without saying anything about his scientific studies at Columbia -College! That certainly looks strange, and suggests the inference that -after all Bilharz had finally succeeded in tearing me away completely -from what he called the worship of scientific materialism. Bilharz did -not succeed in that, but what he actually did is worth relating here.</p> - -<p>After my departure from Cortlandt Street, Bilharz felt quite lonesome -and tried to get companionship and consolation from a Tyrolean zither -which he managed well in spite of his stiff fingers. Knowing my -fondness for Homer’s heroic verse and for the lyric verse in the chorus -of Greek dramas, he practised reciting them with zither accompaniment. -He thus imitated most successfully a Serbian guslar’s recitations of -old Serbian ballads, accompanied by the single-string instrument, -called <i>gusle</i>. In recognition of the success of his clever -scheme, which, I was sure, he had devised for my special benefit, -I called him the Greek guslar. He who has seen huge<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>131</span> multitudes of -Serbs assembled around a blind guslar in the midst of some great -festive gathering, listening by the hour in spellbound silence to -his recitations, will understand how Bilharz managed to attract me -to many a neighborhood gathering on the top loft of the Cortlandt -Street factory. Every time I listened to the zither accompanying his -chanting of familiar Greek verses I imagined that Baba Batikin’s -spirit was transferred from the little peasant village of Idvor to the -great metropolis of America! Whenever I told him that, he seemed to -be immensely pleased, because the life of a blind guslar appealed to -him much. Professor Merriam was certainly a great Greek scholar, but -Bilharz was a great Greek guslar, and when he chanted the verses of the -Iliad with zither accompaniment I was tempted to imagine that he was a -reincarnation of Homer. Between Bilharz and Merriam I could not help -devoting much of my time in college to the study of Greek. I have never -regretted it, but I do regret that the academic halls of the American -colleges of to-day do not resound any more with that solemn Greek -rhythm which I first heard on the top loft of the Cortlandt Street -factory. Bilharz disappeared from Cortlandt Street a short time before -I graduated, and he left me his zither as a souvenir, and also an old -edition of Homer’s Iliad by the famous German philologist Dindorf. I -have not seen him since that time, but I shall never forget him. He was -the first to call my attention to an old and magnificent civilization, -the spiritual beauty of which appealed to my young imagination with -increasing force as my knowledge of it increased. I often recall his -almost fanatical dislike of mechanisms, and wonder what he would -say to-day if he heard the pianola, the phonograph, and some of the -distortions of radio broadcasting, to say nothing of the dramatic -atrocities of the kinematograph!</p> - -<p>On the other hand, the growth of my understanding<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>132</span> from the first day -of my landing at Castle Garden was due to my feeding upon the spiritual -food offered to me daily by a civilization in which I was living, and -which I wished to understand but did not understand. My preparation -for college lifted here and there the mist which prevented my vision -from seeing the clear outline of American civilization. Columbia -College brought me into touch with the college life of American boys -and with men of great learning and wonderful personalities, and they -helped me to dispel every particle of that mist, and there in the clear -sunshine of their learning I saw the whole image of what I believed to -be American civilization: a beautiful daughter of a beautiful mother, -which is the Anglo-Saxon civilization. The memory of this vision always -recalled to my mind the ode of Horace which opens with the line:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“O matre pulchra filia pulchrior!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>The study and the contemplation of these two civilizations, the ancient -civilization of Greece and the new civilization of the Anglo-Saxons, -which appealed to me as the two greatest civilizations of human -history, made every other study in my college curriculum appear -insignificant, although I gained several prizes in the exact sciences, -and although I never gave up the idea that my future work would be in -the field of science.</p> - -<p>But there is another and perhaps the most potent reason why science -figures so little in the preceding part of the story of my college -career. Instruction in the exact sciences in those days was most -elementary, not only at Columbia College but also in most American -colleges. For instance, laboratory work in physics and in chemistry was -not a part of the Columbia College curriculum, and the lecture-room -told me less about physics than I had known from my studies of -Tyndall’s popular publications and from the Cooper Union instruction -before I entered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>133</span> college. The question “What is Light?” I brought with -me from the pasture-lands of my native village, and the professor of -physics at Columbia College offered no answer to it except to refer to -vibrations in an ether, the physical properties of which he admitted -he could not satisfactorily describe. On this point he did not seem -to be much wiser than my humble teacher Kos in Panchevo. My mentor, -Rutherfurd, was always interested in this question, as in many other -advanced questions in science, and he took much delight in discussing -them with me. He was the first to inform me that the great question, -“What is Light?” would probably be answered when we understood more -clearly a new electrical theory advanced by a Scotch physicist, Maxwell -by name, who was a pupil of the great Faraday.</p> - -<p>One day toward the end of my senior year I told my mentor, Rutherfurd, -of a lecture-room experiment performed by Rood, his friend, at that -time professor of physics at Columbia College. This experiment was the -first announcement to me that Faraday was one of the great discoverers -in electrical science. The experiment was simplicity itself, and -consisted of a loose coil of copper wire, held in the left hand of the -lecturing professor, the terminals of the coil being connected to a -galvanometer supported on the wall of the lecture-room, so that its -needle could be seen by every student in the room. When Rood, like -a magician manipulating a wand, moved with his right hand a small -magnet toward the coil, the distant galvanometer needle, impelled by -a force which up to that time was a mystery to me, swung violently in -one direction, and when the magnet was moved away from the coil the -galvanometer needle swung just as violently in the opposite direction. -When one terminal, only, of the coil was connected to the galvanometer, -and thus the electric circuit of the coil was broken, the motion of -the magnet produced no effect. “<em>This is Faraday’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>134</span> discovery of -Electromagnetic Induction.</em>” said Rood with a deep sigh, and ended -the lecture without any further comment, as if he wished to give me -a chance to think it over before he added additional information. -Rutherfurd knew Rood’s picturesque mannerism, and my description of -the experiment amused him. He suggested that the good professor was -very fond of mystifying his students. I certainly was much mystified -and did not wait for the next lecture to clear the mystery, but spent -all day and most of the night reading about Faraday’s wonderful -discovery. It was made over fifty years before that time, but I had -never known anything about it, although Edison’s dynamos in his New -York Pearl Street station had been supplying for over a year thousands -of customers with electric power for incandescent lighting. Columbia -College was not one of these customers for a long time after my -graduation. When I finished my description of the experiment, and -assured Rutherfurd that it was the most thrilling physical phenomenon -that I had ever seen, and that I had remained awake almost all night -after seeing it, he looked pleased, and informed me that this very -phenomenon was the basis of Maxwell’s new Electrical Theory.</p> - -<p>That was the experiment which helped me to decide a very weighty -question. Professor Rood had informed me that in recognition of my high -standing in science as well as in letters I could choose either of two -graduate fellowships, one in letters or one in science, each worth -five hundred dollars a year. Either would have meant an additional -three years of graduate study at Columbia. I was much tempted to turn -to letters and continue my work with Merriam, the idol of all Columbia -College students, including myself, who had felt the wonderful charm -of his personality and of his profound and at the same time most -picturesque classical scholarship. But the magic experiment which -had told me the first story<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>135</span> of Faraday’s great discoveries, and had -aroused my dormant enthusiasm for physics, caused me to bid good-by -to Merriam and turn to science, my first love. Nevertheless, I did -not accept the fellowship in science and stay three years longer at -Columbia; I preferred to take up the study of Faraday and of Maxwell -in the United Kingdom, where these two great physicists were born -and where they had made their great discoveries. Trustee Rutherfurd -and his young nephew, my chum and classmate, John Armstrong Chanler, -applauded my decision, and promised to assist me in my undertaking -whenever assistance should be needed. Rutherfurd assured me that I -should certainly succeed as well in my scientific studies in European -universities as I had succeeded in my general cultural studies at -Columbia College, if the revelations of the new world of physics, -certainly in store for me, could arouse in me the same enthusiasm which -had been aroused by the revelations of that new spirit and that new -current of thought which had given birth to the American civilization. -That this enthusiasm would not be wanting was amply demonstrated, he -said, by the effect which Faraday’s fundamental experiment had produced -in my imagination.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="photo1883"> - <img src="images/facing136-i.jpg" width="500" height="673" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">PHOTOGRAPH OF PUPIN TAKEN IN 1883 WHEN - HE GRADUATED AT COLUMBIA</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing136.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Professor Burgess, my teacher in constitutional history, had assured -me, toward the end of the senior year, that I was fully prepared for -American citizenship, and I had applied for my naturalization papers. -I received them on the day before I was graduated. Two ceremonies -which are recorded in my life as two red-letter days took place on two -successive days; it is instructive to give here a brief comparison -between them. The ceremony which made me a citizen of the United States -took place in a dingy little office in one of the municipal buildings -in City Hall Park. I received my diploma of Bachelor of Arts in the -famous old Academy of Music on Fourteenth Street on the following -day. There was nobody<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>136</span> in the naturalization office to witness the -naturalization ceremony except myself and a plain little clerk. The -graduation ceremonies in the Academy of Music were presided over by -the venerable President Barnard; his luxuriant snowy-white locks and -long beard, and his luminous intelligence beaming from every feature -of his wonderful face, gave him the appearance of Moses, as Michael -Angelo represents him; and the academy was crowded with a distinguished -and brilliant audience. The little clerk in the office handed me my -naturalization papers in an offhand manner, thinking, apparently, -of nothing but the fee due from me. President Barnard, knowing of -my high standing in the graduating class and of my many struggles -to get there, beamed with joy when he handed me my diploma amidst -the applause of my numerous friends in the audience. When I left the -naturalization office, carrying my precious multicolored and very -ornate naturalization papers, the crowd in City Hall Park was moving -about as though nothing had happened; but when I stepped down from the -academy stage, with my Columbia diploma in hand, my old friend Doctor -Shepard handed me a basket of roses with the best wishes of his family -and of Henry Ward Beecher; Mr. and Mrs. Lukanitch were there, and the -old lady kissed me, shedding tears copiously and assuring me that if my -mother were there to see how well I looked in my academic silk gown she -also would have shed many a tear of joy; numerous other friends were -there and made much fuss over me, but all those things served only to -increase the painful contrast between the gay commencement ceremonies -and the prosy procedure of my naturalization on the preceding day. One -ceremony made me only a Bachelor of Arts. The other made me a citizen -of the United States. Which of the two should have been more solemn?</p> - -<p>There was a picture which I had conjured up in my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>137</span> imagination when -first I walked one day from the Cortlandt Street factory to Wall -Street to see the site of old Federal Hall. The picture was that of -Chancellor Livingston administering the constitutional oath of office -to President Washington. To me it was a picture of the most solemn -historical act which New York or any other place in the world ever had -witnessed. When the little clerk in the naturalization office handed me -my naturalization papers, and called upon me in a perfunctory way to -promise that I would always be loyal to the Constitution of the United -States, the picture of that historical scene in Federal Hall suddenly -reappeared to me, and a strange mental exaltation made my voice tremble -as I responded: “I will, so help me God!” The little clerk noticed -my emotion, but did not understand it, because he did not know of my -long-continued efforts throughout a period of nine years to prepare -myself for citizenship of the United States.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As I sat on the deck of the ship which was taking me to the -universities of Europe, and watched its eagerness to get away from the -busy harbor of New York, I thought of the day when, nine years before, -I had arrived on the immigrant ship. I said to myself: “Michael Pupin, -the most valuable asset which you carried into New York harbor nine -years ago was your knowledge of, and profound respect and admiration -for, the best traditions of your race ... the most valuable asset which -you are now taking with you from New York harbor is your knowledge of, -and profound respect and admiration for, the best traditions of your -adopted country.”</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>138</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="v">V<br /> -<span>FIRST JOURNEY TO IDVOR IN ELEVEN YEARS</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was a beautiful June afternoon when from the gay deck of the -<em>State of Florida</em> I saw the low coast-line of Long Island -disappear in the distance. With it disappeared the land the first -glimpse of which I had caught so eagerly on that sunny March morning -nine years before, when the immigrant ship <i>Westphalia</i> carried -me into New York harbor. As I had approached this coast my busy -imagination had suggested that it was the edge of the cover of a -great and mysterious book which I had to read and decipher. I had -read it for nine long years, and my belief that I had deciphered it -made me confident that I was quite rich in learning. Besides, there -were my Bachelor of Arts diploma and my naturalization papers; and, -of course, I thought, they were the best evidence in the world that I -was returning to see my mother again rich in learning and in academic -honors, as I had promised her nine years before in that letter from -Hamburg.</p> - -<p>The sky was clear, the sea was smooth, and its sharp and even horizon -line toward which the ship was heading promised a peaceful temper of -the powers which controlled the motions of the air above and of the -waters below our ship. The comforts of the ship and the fair prospects -of a fine voyage were recorded in the smiling faces of my fellow -passengers. A group of lively schoolgirls from Washington, making -their first trip to Europe under the guidance of an old professor with -long gray hair and shaggy beard, looked like so many nymphs playing -around<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>139</span> a drowsy Neptune. They formed the central group of the happy -passengers. There were a number of college boys on board. Some of -them had friends among the Washington nymphs; by clever manœuvring it -was arranged that the college boys, including myself, should sit at -the same table with the playful nymphs. The gray-locked professor, -whom I called Father Neptune (and the title stuck to him), was -somewhat reluctant at first, but finally he gave his consent to this -“wonderful” proposition, as the girls called it, and he sat at the -head of the table, presiding with a dignity which fully demonstrated -that he deserved the title “Father Neptune.” The jolly captain assured -us that his good old ship never carried a more exuberant company of -youngsters across the Atlantic. But this was not the fierce Atlantic -which I had seen nine years before. It was an Atlantic which apparently -studied to please and to amuse. All kinds of pleasant things happened -during the voyage, as if arranged purposely for our amusement. Many -schools of porpoises approached the merry ship, and I suggested that -they visited us in order to pay their respects to Father Neptune and -his beautiful nymphs. This suggestion was accepted with vociferous -acclamation, and it was agreed that free play be granted to our -imaginations. Let your fancy take any course at your own risk, was -our motto. When the visiting porpoises hustled off like a squadron -of reconnoitring horsemen leaping gaily over the smooth waves, as if -in a merry steeplechase, it was suggested by one of the girls with a -lively imagination that they were anxious to report to the chief of -staff of a great host which, hidden in the depths of the quiescent -Atlantic, controlled the ocean waves. She, the oracle, as we called -her, prophesied that when these heralds had delivered the report that -Father Neptune and his fair nymphs were passing in triumphal procession -through their watery realm, then all things in the heavens above and in -the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>140</span> sea below would bow to the will of Neptune and his playful crew.</p> - -<p>Two spouting whales appeared one day in the distance, and our busy -imaginations suggested that they were two men-o’-war, sent by the -friendly submarine host to pay their homage to Neptune and his nymphs, -and to serve as escort to our speedy ship. Nothing happened which did -not receive a fanciful interpretation by our playful imaginations. -The wonderful phosphorescence of the waves, which were ploughed up -in the smooth sea by the gliding ship, supported the illusion that -our voyage was a triumphal procession along an avenue illuminated -by the mysterious phosphorescent glow. We were headed for Scotland, -by a route which passed to the north of Ireland, and as our course -approached the northern latitudes the luminous twilights of the North -Atlantic made us almost forget that there ever was such a thing as a -dark night. Good old Neptune had quite a job to round up his nymphs in -the late hours of the evening and make them turn in and exchange the -joys of the busy days for the blessings of the restful nights. His job -was hopeless when the northern midnights displayed the awe-inspiring -streamers of the northern lights, and that happened quite frequently. -Those wonderful sights in themselves would have made it worth while -crossing the Atlantic. On such evenings the exuberance of the college -boys and of the schoolgirls from Washington was wide awake until after -midnight, watching the luminous and continuously changing streamers of -the polar regions, telling stories, and singing college songs. These -evenings reminded me much of the neighborhood gatherings in Idvor. One -of them was devoted to original stories; each member of the gay party -had to spin out an original tale. My story was called “Franciscus of -Freiburg,” and it referred to Bilharz, the Greek guslar of Cortlandt -Street. The disappointments of his youth, the calm resignation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>141</span> with -which in his more mature years he passed his hermit days on a top loft -in Cortlandt Street, and his search for consolation in the poetry of -Rome and Greece made quite an impression; and to my great surprise -there was not a single giggle on the part of the irrepressible nymphs. -This was the first story that I ever composed, and it made a hit, -but its success was completely ruined when, prompted by modesty, I -suggested that any tale describing disappointments in love is sure to -be taken very seriously and sympathetically by young girls. A violent -protest was filed by the girls, and I pleaded guilty of the offense -of disturbing public peace. A mock trial, with Father Neptune as the -presiding judge, condemned me and imposed the fine that I tell at once, -and without preparation, another original tale. I described the first -speech of my life on St. Sava’s day, some thirteen years earlier, and -its unexpected effect upon my mischievous chums in Idvor, comparing -it with the unexpected effect of my Franciscus story. I regretted it, -because the fairies from Washington had an endless chain of questions -about Idvor and my prospective visit to it. Never before had I had -a better opportunity to observe the beautiful relationship between -American boys and girls. Its foundation I recognized to be the idea of -the big brother looking after the safety, comfort, and happiness of -his sister, the same idea which is glorified in the Serbian national -ballads.</p> - -<p>One pleasant incident followed another in quick succession during -our triumphant procession over the northern Atlantic, and all the -powers which control the temper of the ocean were most kind and -generous to us, just as our fair oracle had prophesied it. When the -cliffs of Scotland hove in sight, reminding us that our voyage was -approaching its end, there was no thrill of joy such as there was -when the immigrant ship, which first took me into New York harbor, -approached the Long Island coast.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>142</span> Not even the countless sea-gulls -which gracefully circled around the black cliffs, and with their shrill -notes welcomed us to the hospitable shores of Scotland, were able to -dispel the gloom which the sight of land produced among the members of -Neptune’s table. Nobody in our congenial company seemed to be anxious -to say good-by to the good old ship and to the golden atmosphere of the -sweet-tempered Atlantic. Most of them had never crossed the Atlantic -before, and since the voyage was practically over I thought that -there was no harm in describing to them some of the terrors of the -Atlantic, which I had experienced when I crossed it nine years before. -The pictures of those experiences were like the pictures from another -world, and not from the same Atlantic which thrilled us with its -sunshine, twilight, phosphorescent glows, and glorious streamers of the -northern lights. The comparison between my wretched fellow passengers -on the storm-tossed immigrant ship and the radiant company on the ship -which brought us to Scotland afforded me a splendid opportunity to -thank Father Neptune for permitting me to join his beautiful court. -His favor, I said, was almost as great as the favor of the immigrant -officials at Castle Garden, who had allowed me to land with only five -cents in my pocket. The professor complimented me upon my word pictures -which showed the glaring contrasts between the two voyages, and then -he referred to two pictures which, he said, he had in his mind. They -also showed, he said, in glaring contrasts, the difference between a -certain youngster on the immigrant ship to which I referred, and a -Columbia College graduate, who had contributed his share to the comfort -and happiness of Neptune’s court. When he suggested that he would give -much to be with me when I met my mother, and that he wondered whether -she would recognize me, my young friends suggested, quite seriously, -that they would all go to Idvor if I joined them in their continental<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>143</span> -tour. I replied that their tour was along a meandering line through the -great places of Europe, whereas mine was a straight line from Greenock -to little Idvor, so little that it cannot be found on any map.</p> - -<p>There was just one thing which delayed my straight-line journey to -Idvor. A visit to Cambridge was necessary in order to arrange for my -work at this university during the coming academic year, and I lost -no time in reaching it. The sight of the Firth of Clyde, with its -wonderfully green slopes, of Greenock, of Glasgow, and even of London -made feeble impressions. My mind was centred upon one thought only: -the speedy return to Idvor. This also explains why my first sight of -Cambridge impressed me much less than my first sight of Princeton when, -eight years before, I had enjoyed my loaf of bread under an elm-tree -in front of Nassau Hall. F. Marion Crawford, the novelist, had given -me a letter of introduction to Oscar Browning, a fellow of King’s -College; and George Rives, the late chairman of the Board of Trustees -of Columbia University, had given me a letter to W. D. Niven, a fellow -of Trinity College. Rives, after graduating at Columbia College, won a -prize scholarship in classics at Trinity College, and gained there many -scholastic honors.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The man at the ancient gate of King’s College informed me that Mr. -Oscar Browning was away on his summer vacation. At Trinity College I -had better luck, and the man at the still more ancient gate of Trinity -College took me to Mr. Niven, who reminded me much of Professor -Merriam, the great Greek scholar of Columbia College; the same kindly -expression of a most intelligent face, and the same gentle light from -two thoughtful eyes. As I looked into his eyes I felt that I was -catching a glimpse of a world full of those beautiful things which -make life worth living. I informed Niven that I wished to come<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>144</span> to -Cambridge and study under Professor James Clerk Maxwell, the creator of -the new electrical theory. Niven looked puzzled and asked me who had -told me of this new theory, and when I mentioned Rutherfurd, he asked -me what Rutherfurd had told me about it. “That it will probably give -a satisfactory answer to the question: ‘What is Light?’” I answered, -and watched for his reaction. “Did not Mr. Rutherfurd tell you that -Clerk Maxwell died four years ago?” asked Niven, and when I said no, -he asked me whether I had not seen it in the preface to the second -edition of Maxwell’s great book which Niven himself had edited. This -question embarrassed me, and I confessed frankly that Rutherfurd’s son, -my chum Winthrop, had presented me with this book on the day of the -sailing of my ship; that it was packed away in my bags; and that I did -not have any time to examine it during the voyage, because I was too -busy helping to entertain twelve beautiful schoolgirls from Washington, -who were making their first trip to Europe. Niven laughed heartily and -admitted, jokingly, that twelve beautiful girls from Washington were -certainly more attractive than any theory, not excepting even Maxwell’s -great electrical theory. He suggested then that I could study at -Cambridge under Lord Rayleigh, who had succeeded Maxwell as professor -of physics. I declined the suggestion on the ground that I had never -heard of Lord Rayleigh before. Niven laughed again, even more heartily -than before, and assured me that Lord Rayleigh was a great physicist -in spite of the fact that his great fame had never reached my ears. -An English lord a great physicist! The idea struck me as strange, but -Niven looked so friendly and so sincere that I could not help believing -that he really meant what he said. He invited me to lunch, and before -we parted I assured him that I would come back to Cambridge in the -following October and place myself under his guidance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>145</span> -This conference with Niven sobered me up very considerably; it -convinced me that my great aspiration and my small preparation in -physics were far from being of the same order of magnitude. I confessed -to Niven that my success in winning prizes in science at Columbia -College had led to my belief that I knew more physics than I really -did. “Confession is a splendid thing for the soul,” said Niven, and -added: “But do not permit that anything I have said dampen your -courage. A physicist needs courage, and few mortals were braver than -Maxwell. The world knows only a little of his great electrical theory, -but it knows even less of his great moral courage.” He gave me a copy -of Campbell’s life of Maxwell; I read it from cover to cover before -I left London, and it contributed much to the learning which I had -promised to bring to Idvor. It certainly convinced me that Maxwell had -a vastly better knowledge of physics when he graduated at Cambridge -than I had picked up at Columbia. That gave me much healthy food for -serious thought.</p> - -<p>A straight line from London to Idvor passes through Switzerland, and I -proposed to follow that line in my journey as closely as practicable. -My ticket took me from London to Lucerne directly; the journey from -Lucerne to Idvor I left undetermined until I reached Lucerne. I had -no time nor inclination to explore the wonders of London, Paris, or -of any other great place in Europe before I had seen Idvor again. -Mother, Idvor, and Maxwell’s new electrical theory had brought me to -Europe, and I wished to see them as soon as possible, and in the order -named; everything else could wait. Besides, I sincerely believed that -these places had little to offer to a fellow like me, who knew the -great things of New York. I was much disposed to look down upon things -in Europe, a mental attitude which is not uncommon among American -immigrants when they go back to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>146</span> pay a temporary visit to Europe. I had -it quite strongly, but sobering experiences like the conference with -Niven in Cambridge helped me to apply suitable correction factors to -this mental attitude. The following brief description of one of these -experiences bears upon this point.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The London-Lucerne train crossed the Franco-Swiss frontier very early -in the morning, somewhere near Neuchâtel. The delay necessary for the -rearrangement of the train gave the passengers ample time to enjoy -their breakfast in the garden of the station restaurant. A look to -the east caught a sight which made me almost forget my breakfast. -The distant snow-covered Alps, bathed in the early sunshine and -projected against the background of the luminous blue sky of a July -morning, furnished a picture never to be forgotten. I had never seen -the Alps before, and this first view of them was of overpowering -beauty. An Englishman, a fellow traveller, sitting opposite me at the -breakfast-table, noticed my mental exaltation, and asked: “You have -never seen the Alps before, have you?” “No,” said I. “Oh, what a lucky -lad you are!” said the Englishman, adding that he would give much to be -in my place. He confessed that he had to climb the peaks of the Alps in -order to get those thrills which in former days, when he was of my age, -he got by looking at them from the valleys below. At his suggestion -we continued our journey to Lucerne in the same compartment, and the -stories of his climbing exploits stirred up mightily my imagination, -which was already throbbing under the inspiration of the Alpine view -which had greeted me that morning. When I informed him that I was in -a hurry to reach my native village of Idvor, otherwise I might try -some climbing myself, he assured me that a ten days’ delay in Lucerne -would suffice to prepare me for climbing one of the lesser<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>147</span> peaks, and -he mentioned Titlis, not far from Lucerne. He prescribed the training -which would provide me with sufficiently steady Alpine legs. From the -peak of the Titlis, he said, I could see old Switzerland where the -famous legend was born which relates how Tell drove the fear of God -into the hearts of the Austrians. I always loved that legend, perhaps -because I did not love the Austrian tyrants. When the train had -reached Lucerne I saw the wonderful Alpine panorama spread out like an -amphitheatre of snow-covered Alpine peaks around its deep-blue lake, -and I knew that in spite of my great haste to reach Idvor I would not -leave this fairy-land before I had reached the snow-covered peak of -Titlis.</p> - -<p>I immediately hired a rowboat for a week, and, clad in a rowing shirt -with blue and white Columbia stripes and thin tennis trousers, I spent -that afternoon exploring the beauty spots of the meandering shore of -the historic lake. The joy of rowing and the busy rays of the July sun -made me yield to the invitation of the clear waters of the lake to -plunge in and hug the waves, which once upon a time carried Tell to -safety after he had sent his arrow through the heart of the Austrian -tyrant, Gessler. As if imitating the example of Tell, I jumped in -just as I was, trusting that subsequent rowing and the sun would dry -my scanty attire, and they did. A glorious feeling of freedom from -all earthly restraints came over me as, floating on my back, I beheld -the blue sky above and the snow-covered peaks around me. It was the -same sky and the same luminous peaks, I thought, which five hundred -years before saw William Tell chase away the Austrian tyrants from -the historic cantons surrounding the lake; from Uri, Schwyz, and -Unterwalden. I felt that I was floating in the very cradle where real -freedom first saw the light of day. No other spot on earth was more -worthy of that immortal fame. My admiration for it never faded after -that memorable July afternoon.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>148</span> Europe rose in my estimation; I was -much less inclined to look down upon things European.</p> - -<p>The next day I was up very early, feeling “as a strong man ready to -run a race,” the same feeling which I had experienced at Castle Garden -when, nine years before, I woke up early in the morning and hurried -off to catch my first glimpse of the great American metropolis. I -was just as anxious to hurry off and catch from some mountain-top my -first glimpse of Switzerland. Mindful of the suggestions of my English -acquaintance on the train, I started with the easiest climb, the Rigi -Culm. It is a very easy effort, but I made it difficult by rowing first -some ten miles to Weggis, going up to the Rigi and walking down, and -then rowing back to Lucerne again on the same day, in the waning hours -of the afternoon. An unexpected squall upset my boat, and I had quite -a struggle to get back to Lucerne, very late in the evening. The hotel -proprietor noticed my mussed-up appearance, but said nothing, seeing -that I was not in a communicative mood.</p> - -<p>The same strenuous method of preparatory training for the Titlis climb -took me up to Mount Pilatus on the next day. But I was not allowed to -return on the same day on account of a fierce thunder-storm raging -in the valley below, which I watched from the top of the Pilatus. -The innkeeper congratulated me upon my rare luck, not only because I -had a chance to see the beautiful sight of a thunder-storm as viewed -from a point above the thundering clouds, but principally because -this thunder-storm prevented me from running the serious risk of -descending and rowing back to Lucerne on the same day. Commenting upon -the overconfidence of youth, the innkeeper said that every person has -a guardian angel, but people intoxicated by wine or by exuberance of -youth have two, one on each side. That was his explanation for the -alleged fact, he said, that young people and intoxicated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>149</span> people seldom -meet with serious accidents in mountain climbing. Some Americans, he -thought, should have several guardian angels. This sarcasm was aimed at -me, and it did not miss its mark.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, when on my fifth day in Lucerne I started out very -early for the Titlis, I adopted the same strenuous method: rowing to -Stansstadt, walking to Engelberg, and climbing to the hospice where -I arrived at 11 <span class="allsmcap">P. M.</span> I reached at sunrise of the following -morning the top of Titlis, and saw the glories of Uri, Schwyz, and -Unterwalden as my English friend had promised. But I reached it much -exhausted, and if it had not been for the skilled assistance of my -trusty Swiss guide, the last four lines of Longfellow’s “Excelsior” -would have described my Titlis climb quite accurately. I quote the -lines:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line outdent">“There in the twilight cold and gray,</div> - <div class="line indent0">Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,</div> - <div class="line indent0">And from the sky, serene and far,</div> - <div class="line indent0">A voice fell, like a falling star,</div> - <div class="line indent4">Excelsior!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noi">Returning from Titlis, I ran into my English friend, and he -remarked that I looked a little overtrained. We dined together, and -when I told him the story of my six days’ Alpine experience, he begged -me to hustle off to Idvor and see my mother first, and then return -if I cared to pursue my own methods of exploring the beauties of -Switzerland. “If you continue pursuing these methods now, I am afraid -that your mother will never see you again, because there are not -enough guardian angels in all the heavens to prevent you from breaking -your neck.” I agreed, but assured him that my overstrenuous method -of climbing Titlis was worth the risk; it had humbled my vanity and -false pride, and made me more respectful to some of the slow ways of -old Europe. It convinced me that even after serving my apprenticeship -as greenhorn<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>150</span> in the United States, I could still be a most verdant -greenhorn in Europe. The railroad journey from Lucerne to Vienna -afforded me much leisure time for philosophic reflections upon this -matter. Thanks to Niven in Cambridge and to my English friend in -Lucerne, I reached Vienna with a mental attitude considerably different -from and certainly much less exalted than that which I had taken along -when I sailed from New York four weeks before.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The railroad-station at Vienna where I took the train for Budapest -looked quite familiar, although I had seen it but once before. I did -not discover the great and mighty station-master who at my first -appearance there, eleven years before, nearly sent me back to the -prisons of the military frontier. The conductor, however, who called -me “Gnaediger Herr” (gracious sir), when near Gaenserndorf he asked me -for my first-class ticket, was the same man who, eleven years before, -had called me a Serbian swineherd. I recognized him easily, although he -looked very humble and had lost the fierceness which he had displayed -when he roughly pulled me off my seat on that memorable first railroad -journey from Budapest to Vienna. He failed to recall to memory the -Serbian boy with yellow sheepskin coat and cap and the gaily colored -bag. I gave him a generous tip as a reward for driving me into the arms -of my good American friends who had seen me safely landed in Prague, -and the memory of whose kind act had suggested my running off to the -land of Lincoln.</p> - -<p>“America is the land of rapid changes,” he said, when I told him that -I was that boy, and he added: “You must have changed much, looking -as you do like a real American; but we here and our dear old Austria -are like all old people; we do not change except to grow older and -more decrepit.” He expressed exactly what I felt<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>151</span> as I looked to the -right and to the left of the train which was taking me to Budapest. -Everything seemed to move slowly, with the deliberate step of feeble -old age. Budapest looked small, and the suspension bridge, which had -nearly taken my breath away eleven years before, when I first saw it, -looked puny in comparison with the Brooklyn suspension bridge.</p> - -<p>I spent no time in looking around to explore the virtues of the Magyar -metropolis, but hustled, and presently I was on the boat which eleven -years before had brought me to Budapest. I could hardly believe that it -was the same boat. It must have shrunk incredibly, I thought, or else -my life in America had changed the vision of my eyes. Everything I saw -looked small and shrivelled up, and if I had not seen the snow-covered -giants of Switzerland as viewed from the top of Titlis, Europe itself -might have appeared to me as small and shrivelled up.</p> - -<p>When supper was served I noticed that everybody had atrocious table -manners, even people of high official rank, several of whom I -discovered among my fellow passengers. Eleven years before everybody -on the boat had looked so high and mighty that I was almost afraid -to look at them, but this time I was much tempted to imagine that -I was considerably above most of my fellow passengers. I resisted -the temptation. It was a good thing that my climbing of the Titlis -had nearly floored me; it suppressed much of that haughtiness which -naturalized American immigrants bring with them when they visit Europe.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The next morning I noticed a group of Serb students who were returning -home from the universities of Vienna and Budapest. They were from my -native Voyvodina, and not from Serbia, as I found out later. Their -appearance did not impress me very agreeably, but nevertheless I -quivered with delight when I heard their Serb language. They spoke -freely, although they must have noticed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>152</span> that they attracted my -attention. One of them remarked that I could pass for a Serb, if it -were not for my manner, my dress, and my very ruddy complexion. The -voyage across the Atlantic and a week’s tramping in Switzerland were -responsible for my exaggerated ruddiness. A second one thought that -young Serb peasants in Banat are just as ruddy, particularly during -the harvest season, but he admitted that my appearance did not suggest -that my occupation was that of a peasant. Another one suggested that -I was probably a rich South American with very much red Indian blood -in my veins. I laughed and, introducing myself, informed him, speaking -Serb with some difficulty, that I was neither a South American nor an -Indian, but just a Serb student who was a citizen of the United States. -A Serb from the United States was a very rare bird in those days and, -needless to say, I was invited most cordially to join the group, -which I did. Not one of them reminded me of the alert, well-groomed, -athletic, and playful American college boys. They all had long hair -brushed back in a careless fashion, affecting the appearance of dreamy -poets or disciples of radical doctrines. Most of them had slouch hats -with wide brims, indicating radical tendencies. Their faces looked -pale and suggested excessive indoor confinement in Vienna and Budapest -cafés, playing chess or cards, or discussing radical doctrines. Most -of them would have been hazed if they had matriculated in any American -college without modifying much their appearance and manner. They -certainly took themselves very seriously. They knew, I thought, many -things which they had read in books, principally in books dealing -with radical social-science theories. Tolstoy’s name was mentioned -quite often, and the latest apostles of socialistic doctrines also had -their share of adulation. They must have observed that conversation -about these things bored me, and they asked me, with some display -of sarcasm, I thought, whether<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>153</span> American college students took any -interest in modern advanced thought. “They do,” said I, considerably -irritated, “and if it were not for Maxwell’s new electrical theory and -for other advanced theories in modern physics I should not have come -to your moribund old Europe.” “Advanced thought in social and not in -physical sciences,” they said, explaining their original question, -and I answered that the most popular American doctrine in social -science still rested upon foundations laid a hundred years before -that time, in a document called the Declaration of Independence. They -knew very little about it, and I knew even less about their radical -social-science theories, and we changed the subject of our conversation.</p> - -<p>Late in the afternoon the boat approached Karlovci and the hills of -Frushka Gora. I could not help reminiscing, and entertained my Serb -acquaintances with a description of my experiences with the theological -students eleven years before, including the disappearance of my roast -goose. My Serbian vocabulary was quite shaky, but nevertheless I -made quite a hit, and they begged me to go on with my reminiscences. -Whenever I was at a loss for a word, they helped me out. Toward sunset -Belgrade hove in sight, and its majestic appearance thrilled me and -made my Serb vocabulary run as smoothly as ever. I saluted Belgrade as -the acropolis of all the Serbs, and expressed the hope that it might -soon become the metropolis of all the southern Slavs. “This is the -kind of advanced thought in social and political science that American -students are interested in,” I said, reminding them of their former -question, and I added a few sarcastic remarks about advanced thoughts -in social and political science which are not born in the heart of -a nation but imported from the dens of French, German, and Russian -theorists. They quickly caught what I called the American point of -view, but they did not oppose it, for fear, I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>154</span> thought, of offending -me. They saw the American chip on my shoulder, and did not care to -knock it off.</p> - -<p>I had not seen Belgrade since I was a little boy, and as the boat -approached it I saw its high fort rising like a Gibraltar above -the waters of the Danube and looking anxiously across the endless -plains of Austria-Hungary, which, like wide-open jaws of a hungry -dragon, seemed to threaten to swallow it up. Everything I saw in -Austria-Hungary looked small and shrivelled up, but Belgrade looked -to me as if its proud head would touch the stars. The history of the -long-suffering Serb race was grouped around it, and that lifted it up -in my imagination to sublime heights. I was much tempted to stop there -and climb up to the top of Mount Avala, near Belgrade, and from there -send my greetings to heroic Serbia, just as I had sent my greetings to -heroic Switzerland from the top of snow-covered Titlis. But I was told -to look sharp if I wished to catch the last local boat to Panchevo, -and so I bade good-by and au revoir to white-towered Belgrade, as the -Serbian guslars call it.</p> - -<p>When the local boat arrived in Panchevo a delegation of young men, -including one of the Serb students who had come with me from Budapest, -transferred me to another boat, which was crowded with what looked like -a gay wedding-party. The singing society of Panchevo had chartered -this boat to take it and its friends to Karlovci, where a great -national gathering of Serbs was to take place on the following day. -The earthly remains of the great Serb poet Branko Radichevich were to -arrive there from Vienna, where, when still a youth, he died and had -been buried thirty years before. His body was to be transferred to and -buried near Karlovci, on Strazhilovo hill, which was glorified by his -immortal verses. His lyrics were messages to all Serbs, calling upon -them to nurse their traditions and prepare for their national reunion. -Representative Serbs from all parts of Serbdom<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>155</span> were to assemble in -Karlovci to escort the earthly remains of the popular poet to his last -resting-place. I was to represent America, hence the invitation to join -the Panchevo delegation. Serb nationalism flamed up in my heart again.</p> - -<p>Our boat arrived at Karlovci in the early hours of the following -morning, and there we found many singing societies and delegates -from Voyvodina, Serbia, Bosnia, Hercegovina, and Montenegro—a most -picturesque gathering of splendid-looking young men and women, many -of them in their national costumes of brilliant colors. The funeral -procession started early in the afternoon. The singing societies from -the principal centres of Serbdom, lined up in the march in proper -succession, took up in turn the singing of the solemn and wonderfully -harmonious funeral hymn: “Holy God, almighty God, immortal God, have -mercy upon us.”</p> - -<p>The Orthodox church permits no instrumental music. Those who have had -the good fortune to listen to Russian choirs know the power and the -spiritual charm of their choral singing. Serb choirs are not their -inferiors. No music appeals to our hearts so strongly as the music -of the human voice. Every one of the singers in that procession at -Karlovci felt that he was paying his last vocal tribute to the sacred -memory of the national poet, and his voice rose up to the heavens above -as if carried there by the wings of his inspired soul. The effect was -irresistible, and there was not a single dry eye in the great national -gathering. A dismembered nation united in tears was a most solemn -and inspiring spectacle. One could not help feeling that these tears -were welcome to the thirsty soil which nourished the roots of Serb -nationalism. A nation which is united in song and in tears will never -lose its unity. If the governments of Vienna and Budapest had foreseen -the emotions which that solemn ceremony would arouse in the hearts of -that vast<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>156</span> and representative gathering coming from every part of the -dismembered Serbdom, they would never have permitted it. But that would -have meant the exercise of the perceptions of subtle psychology, which -these governments never had.</p> - -<p>When the boat returned to Panchevo, Protoyeray Zhivkovich, the -poet-priest, who had first suggested my transference from Panchevo to -Prague, was watching for my arrival, and received me with tears of -joy in his eyes. He was a protecting friend and adviser of my boyhood -days, and he always considered himself indirectly responsible for my -wandering away to the distant shores of America. When I thanked him for -the choice feast which he had prepared for me, he assured me that his -feast was only a feast of food, whereas the feast which I spread out -before him when I answered his questions about America was a feast for -his soul. I certainly did it, if I interpreted correctly the luminous -flashes of his intelligent eyes. He was a man of about sixty, but his -vigorous eye was still just as eloquent as the stirring verses of his -younger days. “Tell your mother,” he said, “that I am happy to bear the -whole responsibility for your wandering away to distant America. It is -no longer distant; it is now in my heart; you have brought America to -us. It was a new world in my terrestrial geography; it is now a new -world in my spiritual geography.” His generous enthusiasm threatened to -undo some of the sobering effects of Niven’s conference at Cambridge. -During my several visits at his house that summer I had to repeat again -and again my description of Beecher and of his sermons. He called him -the brother of Joan of Arc of the new spiritual world; her flaming -sword, he said, was “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”</p> - -<p>My older sister and her husband drove to Panchevo and escorted me to -Idvor. When Idvor’s territory was reached I begged them to make a -detour which would<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>157</span> take me through the pasturelands and vineyards of -Idvor, where I had seen my happiest boyhood days. There, as if in a -dream, I saw the boys of Idvor watching herds of oxen just as I used -to do, and playing the same games which I used to play. The vineyards, -the summer sky above them, and the river Tamish in the distance, where -I had learned to swim and dive, looked the same as ever. Presently the -familiar church-spire of Idvor hove in sight, and gradually the sweet -sound of the church-bells, announcing vespers, awakened countless -memories in my mind and I found it difficult to control my emotions. As -we drove slowly through little Idvor everything looked exactly as it -had looked eleven years before. There were no new houses, and the old -ones looked as old as ever. The people were doing the same work which -they always did during that season of the year, and they were doing it -in the same way. When we reached the village green I saw the gate of -my mother’s yard wide open, a sign that she expected a welcome guest. -She sat alone on the bench under a tree in front of her house, and -waited, looking in the direction from which she expected me to come. -When she saw my sister’s team, I observed that suddenly she raised her -white handkerchief to her eyes, and my sister whispered to me: “Mayka -plache!” (“Mother is weeping!”) I jumped out of the wagon and hastened -to embrace her. Oh, how wonderful is the power of tears, and how -clear is our spiritual vision when a shower of tears has purified the -turbulent atmosphere of our emotions! Mother’s love and love for mother -are the sweetest messages of God to the living earth.</p> - -<p>Everything in Idvor looked the same, but my mother had changed; she -looked much older, and much more beautiful. There was a saintly light -in her eyes which disclosed to me the serene firmament of the spiritual -world in which she lived. Raphael and Titian, I thought, never painted -a more beautiful saint. I gazed and worshipped<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>158</span> and felt most humble. -“Come,” she said, “and walk with me; we shall be alone; I want to -hear your voice and see the light of your face, undisturbed.” We -walked slowly, and my mother recalled many things, reminding me of the -familiar objects of my boyhood days, as: “Here is the path on which you -walked to school; there is the church where you read the epistles on -Sundays and holidays; there is the mill with the funnel-shaped thatched -roof from the top of which you once removed the shining new tin star, -imagining that it was a star from heaven; there is the house where Baba -Batikin, of blessed memory, lived and taught you so many ancient tales; -there is the house where old Aunt Tina cured your whooping-cough with -charms and with herbs steeped in honey; here lived old Lyubomir, of -blessed memory, who was so fond of you, and made your sheepskin coats -and caps; here is the field where every evening you brought our horses -to the chikosh (the village herdsman) to take them to the pasturelands.”</p> - -<p>By that time we had reached the end of the little village, but my -mother prolonged our leisurely walk and presently we stood at the gate -of the village cemetery. Pointing to a cross of red marble my mother -said that it marked the grave of my father. When we reached it I kissed -the cross, and, kneeling upon the grave, I prayed. My mother, loyal -to Serb traditions, addressed the grave, saying: “Kosta, my faithful -husband, here is your boy whom you loved more dearly than your own -life, and whose name was on your lips when you breathed your last. -Accept his prayer and his tears as his affectionate tribute to your -blessed memory, which he will cherish forever.”</p> - -<p>On the way back we stopped at the church and kissed the icons of our -patron saint and of St. Sava, and lighted two wax candles which mother -had brought with her. I confessed to her that I felt as if a sacred -communion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>159</span> had reunited me with the spirit of Idvor. That was her wish, -she said, because she did not want Idvor to think that I was like a -proud stranger from a proud, strange land. “I did not recognize you,” -she said, “when I first saw you in your sister’s wagon until you smiled -with the smile of your boyhood days, and then I shed the sweetest tears -of my life. You looked so learned and so far above us plain folks of -Idvor that nobody will recognize the Misha they used to know, and whom -they long to see, unless you show them the boy that they used to know.” -My promise to return to Idvor “rich in learning and academic honors” -was evidently made good, according to my mother’s opinion. But did not -this learning and these academic honors carry with them an air which -did not harmonize with the old-fashioned notions of Idvor? This, I -believed, was in my mother’s mind, and I made a careful note of it.</p> - -<p>Idvor came to see me, and it assured me that there was no youngster -in all the great plains of Voyvodina who was nearer to the heart of -his native village than Misha. This affectionate regard was won by my -strict observance of all the old customs of Idvor, as, for instance, -kissing the hand of the old people of Idvor, and in return being -kissed by them on the forehead. On the other hand, young peasant boys -and girls of Idvor kissed my hand, and I kissed them on the cheek -and petted them. My cousin, much older than I, was an ex-soldier and -a stern <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">Knez</i> (chief) of the village. He was the oldest male -member and, therefore, the head of the Pupins. I was expected to keep -this in mind constantly, and I did it whenever I stood in his mighty -presence. American citizenship eliminated my allegiance to the Emperor -of Austria-Hungary but not to the autocratic <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">Knez</i> of Idvor. -There was another great person in Idvor whose presence inspired awe. -He was my <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">koum</i> (godfather). My mother had lost all her children -that were born in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>160</span> her earlier years, and was left childless for many -years. She then bore two daughters when she was over thirty. I was -born when she was over forty, in answer to her fervent prayer, she -firmly believed, that God grant her a son. A boy born late in life, -if he is to live, must, according to a popular belief in Idvor, be -handed out through the front window to the first person who comes -along, and that person has to carry the baby to church quickly and have -it baptized. In this manner a very poor and humble peasant of Idvor -became my <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">koum</i>. A <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">koum’s</i> authority over his godchild -is, theoretically at least, unlimited, according to Serbian custom. -In practice, a godchild must eat humble pie when the <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">koum</i> is -present. Between my cousin, who, as <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">Knez</i>, was at the head of -the village, and my <i lang="sh" xml:lang="sh">koum</i>, who was somewhere near the bottom -of the village, I had some difficulty to steer the correct course of -conduct. I succeeded, thanks to my efforts to please my mother; and the -peasants of Idvor most cheerfully admitted that America must be a fine -Christian country, since it had given me a training which harmonized -so well with the Christian traditions of Idvor. My presidency in the -junior year at Columbia College, my undisputed authority among some of -the young aristocrats of New York, and the many scholastic successes -in my academic career had sown some seeds of vanity and false pride in -my heart. But these seeds were smothered by the inexorable rigors of -Idvor’s traditions. Humility is the cardinal virtue in a youth among -the peasants of Idvor.</p> - -<p>Needless to say, the story of my life since I had left Idvor was -retold many a time, until my mother and my sisters knew it by heart. -It was sweet music to their ears. I enjoyed it, too, because summer -evenings in a Serbian garden are most conducive to the spinning out of -reminiscent tales. The village worthies spent many Sunday afternoons in -my mother’s garden asking many,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>161</span> many a question about America. Tales -about things like the Brooklyn Bridge, the elevated railroad, the tall -buildings in New York, and the agricultural operations of the West were -received with many expressions of wonder, but at times also, I thought, -with some reserve. A simple peasant mind could not accept without -considerable reserve the statement that a machine can cut, bind, and -load the seasoned wheat, all at the same time, with nothing but a few -stupid horses to drag it along. After a while my store of information -became exhausted, and I had much less to say, but the wise men of -Idvor urged me to go on. They met my apologies with the statement that -peasant Ghiga had never left Idvor in all his life until one day he -went to a neighboring village, about ten miles away, and saw the county -fair. He returned to Idvor on the same day, and for six weeks he never -ceased talking about the great things which he had seen at that county -fair. “Just imagine,” said the priest, “how much he would have had to -say if he had been nine years in great America!”</p> - -<p>I was overwhelmed with invitations to attend concerts and festivals -in many places of my native Banat, and when I attended I was often -called upon to say something about America, and, of course, I spoke -about my favorite subject: “The American Doctrine of Freedom.” People -talked and papers wrote about it. One day the Fehispan, the governor of -Torontal, where Idvor belonged under the new division of Hungary, sent -for me, and appointed the hour for a conference. I went, carrying my -American citizenship papers and my Columbia diploma in my pocket. When -I entered his office I saw a handsome young man of about thirty, quite -athletic in appearance, and looking like an English aristocrat in dress -and in manner. I was told beforehand that he was a young Hungarian -nobleman who prided himself upon his English university training. I -wondered how he would act<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>162</span> when he saw before him a Serb youth from -the peasant village of Idvor who prided himself upon his American -college training. He looked puzzled when I entered and saluted him with -a Serbian “Dobroytro gospodine!” (“Good morning, sir”), accompanying -my salute with an Anglo-Saxon bow, that is a jerky motion of the head -from the shoulders up. The bow of continental Europe is much more -elaborate. After some hesitation he asked me to sit down, and then, -as if by an afterthought, he brought a chair himself and offered it -to me. We spoke in English, since I did not understand Hungarian, and -he did not care to speak Serb. By way of introduction I showed him -my American citizenship papers and my diploma, and he remarked that -these documents agreed with my appearance and manner, adding quickly -that he meant a compliment. He asked me how I liked Idvor and Hungary. -Then I told him that I never had known much about Hungary, but that -Budapest and even its famous bridge looked to me small and shrivelled -up, probably because I compared things there with things in New York. -“It is big enough, is it not, to be the metropolis of the southern -Slavs in Hungary?” he asked. “It undoubtedly is,” said I, “but somewhat -inconvenient and unnatural.” I volunteered this opinion, seeing from -his somewhat inquisitorial manner that he knew much about my doings, -and that he had heard of my salute to Belgrade when my boat from -Budapest approached it a month earlier.</p> - -<p>“This, I suppose, is the doctrine which you preached at Karlovci, -at the national gathering there?” asked the handsome and genial -inquisitor, and I answered: “No; I had no time; I was too busy -carrying the body of the great poet to Strazhilovo. Besides, the -Karlovci ceremony itself was really a grand sermon which glorified -that doctrine, and some day it may prevail, when the slow mind of the -southern Slav wakes up and does the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>163</span> natural thing.” “The quick mind -of the Hungarian crown may wake up sooner and do the natural thing,” -said the young Fehispan, and added: “What you say now confirms my -information that in your public utterances you deny the divine right of -the crown and proclaim the divine right of the people.” “That is one -of the messages of our American Declaration of Independence,” said I, -“and I delivered that message to people here who were anxious to hear -something about America.” Then I added that Kossuth, while in America, -was glorifying the divine right of the Hungarian people and denying the -divine right of the Hapsburg crown in Hungary. I had heard this and -many other Hungarian democratic doctrines from Henry Ward Beecher, who -was a great friend and admirer of Kossuth, and I told him that. He saw -that my trigger was ready if he attempted any further moves in this -direction. “You are certainly frank and honest, like all real Americans -that I know; that makes them most attractive. But why don’t you -naturalized Americans mind your own business when you visit us?” He was -much less stern and serious when he said this, and I was only too glad -to play a more cheerful tune, and said: “Our most important business -here is our mission to make you, our poor relations here, happy and -prosperous by having you adopt the American point of view.”</p> - -<p>He was a wealthy Hungarian magnate who owned several villages, each -of them bigger than Idvor, and this answer coming from a son of poor -Idvor amused him much. From that moment on our conference was much -less formal, and became even cordial when he offered me coffee and -cigarettes. I jokingly told him that Magyarism and Teutonism had driven -me away from Panchevo and Prague, and now that I was back for a visit I -wished to pay them back with a little present of a few American ideas. -“Your American ideas,” he retorted<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>164</span> jokingly, “will make you even less -popular here than your Serb nationalism did eleven years ago. Drop them -while you are here. You’ll have more fun shooting wild ducks in the -lowlands of the Tamish River near Idvor than clearing up to dullards -the American point of view. The duck season is on, and it is a pity -to miss a single day. I’ll lend you an American gun which is just -right for that sort of business.” He did, and that gun kept me busy -and saved him the trouble of watching my movements. The village notary -accompanied me on my shooting tramps; he was an expert fisherman and -shot, and spared no pains to please me and—the Fehispan. A two weeks’ -tramp in the marshes of the Tamish River, chasing the elusive duck, -diminished my haste to harmonize the political point of view of the -Serbs in the Voyvodina with American ideas.</p> - -<p>When the vintage was over, toward the end of September, I made ready to -start for Cambridge. I was sorry to leave, because the merry season in -Voyvodina is on when the vintage is over and the new wine has ceased -fermenting. The golden crops are then all in, and the lazy pigs are fat -and round, and ready to be served at wedding-feasts. In other lands it -is the springtime when the young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love; -in the Serb Voyvodina it is the autumn season which has that mysterious -power. It is in the autumn when marriage-bells never cease ringing, and -the bagpipes with the merry songs of wedding-feasts stir up the hearts -from one end of the Banat plains to the other. But my mother diverted -my attention to more serious thoughts, and she assured me that she -was even more happy preparing me for my journey to Cambridge than she -was when, eleven years before, she was preparing me for my journey to -Prague.</p> - -<p>A few days prior to my departure the village worthies prepared a -fish-supper in my honor. The Tamish fishermen cooked it in their -traditional way over a wood fire<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>165</span> burning under the open sky. The -little supper-party reached the fishermen’s hut on the bank of the -Tamish River just about sunset. The western sky was all aglow with the -golden light of the parting day, and so was the surface of the tranquil -Tamish River, made luminous by the image of the western sky. The -rest of the landscape looked dark by contrast, excepting the glowing -faces of the patient supper-party, who sat around the busy fires and -watched the boiling kettles and the broiling pans. At some distance, -and standing at the very end of a fisherman’s barge, was the dark -silhouette of a tall young shepherd, who stood there lonely like some -solitary dark spectre hovering over the golden surface of the Tamish -River. It was just the spot for one who sought seclusion and longed -for quiet meditation. No ripple in the water or in the air disturbed -his dreams, if he had any, and I thought that he had. His sheep had -been watered, and he had finished his frugal supper long ago, before -the light of the day had retired below the distant horizon line of the -Banat plains. The silence of the approaching night awakened emotions -which only his tuneful flute could express, and suddenly he poured his -soul into a melody which surely was not addressed to mere phantoms -of the vacuous space. I felt that the quivering air was conveying -through the evening silence a message of love to some maiden, who was -perhaps just then spinning under some thatched roof of drowsy Idvor and -thinking of him. The priest approached me to tell me that the fish was -ready and that the feast would soon begin. I told him that my feast -had already begun and called his attention to the heavenly melody. He -said: “Oh, that’s Gabriel, the son of my neighbor Milutin. He entered -the village school when you left Idvor, and he finished it long ago. -He will be married on St. Michael’s day, and what you hear now is his -sefdalia (song of sighs) for his future bride, who is over there in our -drowsy village.”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>166</span> When he jokingly suggested that I might be looking -forward to the enjoyment of the sweets of simple pastoral life which -were in store for Gabriel, if I had not turned my back on Idvor eleven -years before, I answered that perhaps it was not too late to correct -the error. The priest looked astonished, and asked me whether I had -crossed and recrossed the Atlantic in order to become a shepherd of -Idvor. I said nothing, but I knew that Gabriel’s melody had disclosed -to me another world in which the question “What is Light?” is by no -means the most important question. There were other great questions of -human life, the answers to which can perhaps be found in Idvor without -a knowledge of Maxwell’s electrical theory.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>167</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="vi">VI<br /> -<span>STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">A long-continued</span> struggle with no let-up will wreck a feeble -constitution. It produces in a strong and healthy constitution a -tuning-up of continuously rising pitch under the tension of which even -the strongest constitution may snap in two. My struggle had been going -on for nine years when I was returning to Europe on my way to Idvor, -hence my pitch was very high. Nervous tension resulting in a lack of -poise was the diagnosis of my ailment, according to my English friend -in Lucerne, who urged me to abandon the exploration of the beauties -of the Alps and seek the solitude of my native village; otherwise, he -said, not even all the guardian angels in heaven could prevent me from -breaking my neck. A two months’ vacation in the soporific atmosphere -of Idvor was a blessing; my pitch was lowered through several octaves, -and I did not vibrate violently in response to every impulse that came -along. I recognized, for instance, that the Serbs of the Voyvodina -could wait a little longer for their political salvation, which I -confidently expected from their adoption of the American point of view. -I also recognized that to many human beings a knowledge of the modern -theories of physics was not indispensable to happiness. There was not -a single person in Idvor who cared two straws about these things, and -yet most of these good people were happy, as, for instance, Gabriel, -who was to be married on St. Michael’s day. Gabriel did not know much, -I said to myself, but the little knowledge he had was very definite. -He knew that he loved the girl he was about to marry, and he also knew -that his life,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>168</span> following in the footsteps of his peasant ancestors, -had a definite object in view which, as everybody in his village knew, -was easily attainable. I knew more than Gabriel did, but my knowledge -was not as definite as his. My aim in life was, I thought, much higher -than his; but was it attainable? And, if attainable, was it worth the -struggle? Two months earlier such a question could not have occurred to -me even in a dream. But Gabriel’s melody and the dreamy atmosphere of -Idvor suggested it.</p> - -<p>My mother observed that a change had occurred, but she was not alarmed. -I spoke less often of my future plans, and was less anxious about my -departure for Cambridge. The wedding celebrations in my native Banat -were already ushered in by the gay autumn season, and the beautiful -kolo dancers, whirling around the merry bagpipes, engaged my interest -much more than when I had come to Idvor two months before. One evening -my mother recalled an incident which happened in my early boyhood days -and which I remembered well. She said something like this:</p> - -<p>“Do you remember when Bukovala’s mill with its high conical roof was -rethatched?” I said, “Yes,” and she continued: “You were then a little -shaver, but you certainly remember still the shining tin star which the -workmen had planted upon the top of the conical roof after they had -finished their work of thatching. The children of Idvor thought that -it was a real star from heaven; it looked so bright when the sunlight -was shining upon it. One day the tin star disappeared, and everybody -wondered how anybody could have climbed up that smooth and steep roof -and taken the star away. Old Lyubomir, who loved you so dearly and -delighted in making sheepskin coats for you, was sure that it was you, -and he suggested that special prayers of thanksgiving be read in church -for your miraculous escape. Old Lyubomir was right, as you know, and -I always believed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>169</span> that God had saved you for a mission in life much -higher than that of young Gabriel, whose happy lot you seem to envy. -Blessed America has taught you how to climb a roof much steeper than -that of Bukovala’s mill, and on its top and all the way up to it you -will find many a real star from heaven. You are not far from the top -and you cannot stop nor turn back now any more than you could when you -saw the peak of Titlis in the distance, but felt too fatigued to finish -your climb. Gabriel’s magic flute and his mellow sefdalia, song of -sighs, have turned your thoughts to things which are now in everybody’s -mind: to wedding-feasts and kolo dancing, and to other diversions which -fill the hearts of Idvor’s youth during this merry autumn season. -You are dreaming now some of the idle dreams of youth, but when you -return to Cambridge you will wake up again and see that all this was -a pleasant dream only, which you saw in your restful hours in drowsy -Idvor. The real things are waiting for you at Cambridge.”</p> - -<p>I confessed my weakness and pleaded extenuating circumstances. I tried -to persuade her that her tender affection and watchful ministering -to what she insisted should be my pleasures and comforts during that -summer had transformed a hardy youth into a soft and pampered pet. She -answered: “The blacksmith softens his steel before he forges it into a -chain; you are just right for the blacksmiths of Cambridge.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When I returned to Cambridge from drowsy little Idvor things looked -different from what they had on my former visit two months before. -Things which, in my feverish haste, I had scarcely noticed then filled -me now with awe. The ancient college buildings inspired a feeling -of wonder and of veneration. I saw in them just so many monumental -records of the ancient traditions of English learning. I began to -understand, I thought, how it happened<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>170</span> that a little nation on a -little island in the northern Atlantic became the leader in the world’s -empire of intellect, and the cradle of a great civilization. This -first impression made upon me by these ancient monuments was greatly -amplified as soon as I caught even the first glimpses of the daily -activity of Cambridge. The forenoons appeared serious and sombre to an -outside observer; everybody wore a black cap and gown and everybody -did apparently the same thing, going somewhere in search of sources of -learning and inspiration. The intellect of Cambridge seemed to be in -full action during the forenoons, and hence the solemn seriousness of -the university town during the early half of the day. But the scene -changed as if by magic when the midday had passed. The black caps -and gowns disappeared, and in their places white flannel trousers -and gaily colored blazers and caps adorned the college youths and -many college dons. The same youths who in the forenoon, like sombre -monks, were making a pilgrimage to some miracle-working fountains of -wisdom joined in a gay procession in the afternoon, hastening to the -sparkling fountains of athletic recreation. The intellectual activity -of the forenoon was succeeded by the physical activity of Cambridge -in the afternoon. To a stranger like myself, who knew practically -nothing of the famous university town, the change of scene between -morning and afternoon was bewildering. It looked to me as if I saw a -monastic-looking procession of serious and thoughtful men suddenly -changed into gay groups of lively youths whose only thoughts were on -the games which awaited them. By counting the different colors of -blazers and caps and the coats of arms which adorned the athletic -youths one could easily count the number of different colleges in -the old university. These colors and coats of arms had a meaning, I -thought, and I asked myself whether they did not, like the ancient -college buildings, record the ancient traditions of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>171</span> venerable -seat of learning. They certainly did; they were a part of the symbolic -language which told the story of the university’s customs and -traditions. It was clear to me that while at Cambridge my work was to -be done in the morning and evening, and my playing in the afternoon, -in accordance with the local customs. I stayed at a hotel for several -days and watched these external pictures of Cambridge life before I -called on Mr. Niven of Trinity and on Mr. Oscar Browning of King’s. I -wished to get some picture of the daily activities at Cambridge before -I presented myself to these learned men, and I got it.</p> - -<p>Niven was expecting me and was ready with a programme of work which -he had promised me in June, and I gladly accepted it. Both Niven and -Browning assured me that at that late date lodgings in any college -were out of the question, and that I must get lodgings in the town -for one academic year at least. It did not matter, because very many -students resided outside of the college buildings. I really preferred -it, because I had not come to Cambridge to seek the opportunities -offered by its college life; I had come to study physics and find out -how Maxwell answered the question “What is Light?” That was the only -definite point in the programme which I had brought to Cambridge; the -rest was hazy and reminded me often of a Serbian figure of speech -which speaks of a goose groping around in a fog to find its way. But -I had groped like a goose in a fog when I landed at Castle Garden and -finally found my way. The saying, “Where there’s a will there’s a way,” -comforted me much.</p> - -<p>My residence in lodgings outside of the college precincts had one great -advantage. It gave me an opportunity to study English life from what -I considered a somewhat novel point of view. It is the point of view -which discloses to the foreigner English domestic life<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>172</span> through the -unique personality of the English landlady. During my eighteen months’ -stay at the University of Cambridge, I had an opportunity to study her -wonderful ways, not only in Cambridge, but also in London, Hastings, -Brighton, and Folkestone, where I used to spend my Easter and Christmas -vacations. She was the same everywhere: dignified, reticent, punctual, -and square; neat and clean in all her ways; willing and anxious to -render service, but not a servant; possessing a perfect understanding -of her own business, which she minded scrupulously, but avoiding -carefully minding anybody else’s business.</p> - -<p>At Mr. Browning’s request a Mr. Ling, the leading tenor of King’s -College choir, took me around to look for lodgings. He belonged to the -town and not to the gown, and was quite anxious to impress me with the -many virtues of the town. He transformed our trip into an elaborate -inspection tour of the student lodgings, because he was proud of them -and considered them a very essential part of the great university. -At that time I thought that he, a very enthusiastic townsman, was -perhaps exaggerating the importance of this subsidiary instrumentality -of the university. But when I got to know the Cambridge landlady and -to understand her importance, I became convinced that Mr. Ling was -right. I had not been in Cambridge more than a week before I learned -the fundamentals of English domestic life, and I admired its wholesome -simplicity. My landlady taught me these fundamentals, and in her -wonderfully tactful ways she enforced their operation without my being -aware that I was led around by her intelligent and forceful hand. -I take off my hat to the English landlady, who, in her humble and -unostentatious ways, is one of the eloquent interpreters of Anglo-Saxon -civilization. She was one of my trusty guides and sympathetic -assistants during my strenuous eighteen months at the University of -Cambridge.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>173</span> -I started my work at Cambridge unattached to any college. But later -I made up my mind to attach myself to King’s College, yielding to -repeated suggestions from my friend, Mr. Oscar Browning. But I did not -change my lodgings. King’s had less than a hundred students and many -dons. Not one of them was a star in physics, and therefore the college -had no attractions for me on account of the learning of its dons. -But it had a beautiful chapel and a famous choir. The stained-glass -windows of King’s College chapel were famous as far back as Cromwell’s -time and they are still so. Every time I attended service in this -glorious chapel I went away feeling spiritually uplifted. I attended -regularly, although, as a member of the Orthodox faith, I was excused -from all religious services. What the other students, belonging to -the established church, considered a stern duty, I considered a rare -privilege. The chapel gave me a spiritual tonic whenever I needed it, -and I needed it often. I yielded also to Mr. Browning’s suggestions -to try for a place in the college boat, and succeeded. Rowing was the -only exercise which I took at Cambridge after I had become attached -to King’s, but before that I took long walks, usually with one of the -younger dons or with a student who was engaged in the same book work -in which I was engaged. They helped me to make myself familiar with -the history of Cambridge and of the surrounding country. Everybody in -Cambridge took his daily exercise just as regularly as he took his -daily bath and food. I followed the universal custom; it suited me well -and, besides, that was the best way to get along in Cambridge.</p> - -<p>Physical as well as intellectual activity of the students at Cambridge -was a matter of daily routine, regulated by customs and traditions. -But these regulators were different for different groups of students. -The student studying for honors arranged his work differently from -the arrangement which suited the needs of a Poll student,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>174</span> that is, -the ordinary student who did not aspire to academic honors. Their -previous training also had been different. The students who aspired -to academic honors in mathematics were quite numerous, more numerous -than the students in any other honor class. Cambridge, ever since the -time of Newton, had become the nursery of the mathematical sciences -in the British Empire. There were about five of these honor groups -at Cambridge in those days. Niven advised me to join the honor group -in mathematics, the so-called mathematical tripos group, and he -picked out a coach for me. Just as one straight line, only, can be -drawn through two points, so the line of the student’s intellectual -activity at Cambridge was fixed when he had picked out the honor class -and the tutor or coach to train him for the examinations prescribed -for that honor class. To join the honor class in mathematics meant -to work alongside of students who expected to become Cambridge -<em>wranglers</em>. To understand the meaning of this it suffices to -know that no greater honor was in store for the ambitious youths in -the university than to be a <em>senior wrangler</em> or to stroke a -victorious varsity boat. The preparations for these glorious honors -were just as careful as the preparations of a Grecian youth for -participation in the Olympian games. I had no ambition to become a -Cambridge wrangler, but Niven pointed out that a prospective physicist -who wished to master some day Maxwell’s new electrical theory must -first master a good part of the mathematical work prescribed for -students preparing for the Cambridge mathematical tripos examinations.</p> - -<p>“Doctor Routh could fix you up in quicker time than anybody,” said -Niven with a smile, and then he added cautiously, “that is, if Routh -consents to your joining his private classes, and if you can manage -to keep up the pace of the youngsters who are under his training.” -Three months before, when I first called on Niven, and when my pitch -was very high, I would have resented this; but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>175</span> Idvor had lowered my -pitch several octaves and I swallowed Niven’s bitter pill without the -slightest sign of mental distress. My humility pleased him, because it -probably relieved him of some anxiety about the question of managing me.</p> - -<p>John Edward Routh, fellow of Peterhouse College, was the most famous -mathematical coach that Cambridge University had ever seen. In his -lifetime he had coached several hundred wranglers, and for twenty-two -consecutive years he had coached the senior wrangler of each year. -This is really equivalent to saying that a certain jockey had ridden -the Derby winner for twenty-two consecutive years. He was a senior -wrangler himself in 1854, when great James Clerk Maxwell was second -wrangler, and he divided with Maxwell the famous Smith’s prize in -mathematics. To be admitted by Routh into his private classes was -flattering, according to Niven, but to be able to keep up with them -would be a most encouraging sign. Niven was anxiously waiting for that -sign. Routh accepted me, but gave me to understand that my mathematical -preparation was much below the standard of the boys who came to -Cambridge to prepare for the mathematical tripos examinations, and that -I should have to do considerable extra reading. He also cautioned me -that all this meant very stiff work for a good part of the academic -year. I went to Cambridge to study physics and not mathematics; but, -according to Niven and Routh, my real desire, as far as they could make -it out, was to study mathematical physics, and they assured me that my -training with Routh, if I could keep the pace, would soon lay a good -foundation for that. Lord Rayleigh lectured on mathematical physics and -so did famous Professor Stokes (later Sir George Gabriel Stokes); but -according to Routh and Niven I was not prepared to attend any of these -lectures, and much less to read Maxwell’s famous mathematical treatise -on his new<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>176</span> electrical theory. Niven reminded me once of my first visit -to Cambridge, when I had insisted that Cambridge without Maxwell had no -attractions for me, and he asked me, jokingly, whether Lord Rayleigh’s -lectures were good enough for me. I answered that they certainly were, -but that, unfortunately, I was not good enough for the lectures. “Next -year you will be,” said Niven, consoling me; and I, unable to suppress -my feeling of disappointment, answered: “Let us pray that the starving -jackass does not drop dead before the grass is green again.” “What’s -that?” asked Niven, somewhat puzzled. “That is a free translation of a -Serbian proverb, and I am the jackass,” said I, and refused to furnish -any further explanations. But Niven figured it out correctly in the -course of the evening and then laughed heartily. He confessed that -Serbo-American humor was somewhat involved and required considerable -analysis.</p> - -<p>The Cambridge colleges, some nineteen in number, resembled our -American colleges in many ways. The career of the Cambridge Poll men -was essentially the same as that of our American college boys. But -our American colleges had no class of students corresponding to the -Cambridge honor men. Referring particularly to the honor men who -prepared for the so-called mathematical tripos, they came to Cambridge -after graduating at some college outside of Cambridge. For instance, -Maxwell came to Cambridge from the University of Edinburgh, and Routh -came there from the University College, London. Both of them migrated -to Cambridge, because their teachers in mathematics, like illustrious -De Morgan, the first mathematical teacher of Routh, were mathematicians -of distinction, and discovering in their young pupils extraordinary -mathematical talents they developed them as far as they could, and then -sent them to Cambridge for further development under the training of -famous coaches who prepared them for the mathematical<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>177</span> tripos. These -teachers were usually former Cambridge wranglers, apostles of the -Cambridge mathematical school, and they were always on the lookout for -a fresh supply of mathematical genius for the nursery which regarded -great Newton as its founder. This was the type of boys which I met in -Routh’s classes. They did not seem to know as much of Greek and Latin, -of history and economics, of literature and physical sciences, as I -did, but their training in mathematics was far superior to mine. They -were candidates for the mathematical tripos, and no American college of -those days had a curriculum which could turn out candidates with the -preliminary mathematical training which those boys brought to Cambridge.</p> - -<p>Routh had warned me that stiff work was before me for a good part of a -whole academic year, if I was to keep up with the young mathematical -athletes whom he was training, and he was right. I experienced many -moments of despondency and even despair, and I needed all the tonic -which King’s College chapel could give me; I needed it very often, and -I got it. Routh was a splendid drill-master even for those students -who, like myself, had no tripos aspirations. He certainly was a -wonder, and everything he did was done with ease and grace and in -such an offhand manner that I often thought that he considered even -the stiffest mathematical problems mere amusing tricks. Problems over -which I had puzzled in vain for many hours he would resolve in several -seconds. He was a virtuoso in the mathematical technique, and he -prepared virtuosos; he was the great master who trained future senior -wranglers. I never felt so small and so humble as I did during the -early period of my training with Routh. Vanity and false pride had no -place in my heart when I watched Routh demolish one intricate dynamical -problem after another with marvellous ease. I felt as a commonplace -artist feels when he listens to a Paderewski or to a Fritz Kreisler.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>178</span> -Long before the end of the academic year, I finished Routh’s -preliminary tripos course in dynamics and much of the auxiliary -mathematics demanded by it, and became quite skilled in solving -dynamical problems. I had much difficulty in keeping pace with Routh’s -classes, but I succeeded, and Niven was pleased. But I was not pleased; -I did not think that I had found there what I had expected to find. In -the course of time I discovered that I was not alone in my opinion; -many Cambridge men failed to find in tripos drills the stimulating -elements of that scientific spirit which leads to original research. I -was a goose which groped around in a fog when I came to Cambridge; but, -if I had come from an English college as a promising tripos candidate, -with my work cut out for me by my superiors and in accordance with -old customs and traditions of Cambridge, I should not have discovered -that there was in Cambridge at that time an epoch-making movement, the -significance of which cannot be overestimated. I shall return to this -point later.</p> - -<p>Many a time during my early experiences in Routh’s drill school I -thought of my mother’s words which described the steep and slippery -climb which awaited me, and which was leading, as she had expressed it, -to real stars from heaven. I felt the steepness of the climb, but I -saw no star ahead of me. Routh was a great master of the mathematical -technique, but he was not a creative genius; he was a virtuoso but -not a composer. His principal concern was to drill his students in -the art of solving those conventional problems which usually formed -part of tripos examinations. The poetical element of dynamics, which -thrills, was absent from his businesslike drills. The only star, I -thought, which his students saw ahead of them was a high place in the -tripos examinations, and that star did not attract me; recalling my -mother’s story, I called it a tin star. I loved Routh and admired him -much, but I did not admire the Cambridge<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>179</span> tripos method of laying a -foundation for mathematical physics. When Niven discovered my state of -mind he sympathized, and he gave me a little book called “Matter and -Motion” by Maxwell, a very small book written by a very great author. -“You are not up to the mathematics of Maxwell’s great electrical -treatise,” said Niven, as he handed me the little book, “but you will -find no difficulties of that kind in this little book, which covers a -very great subject.” It was first published in America in the <cite>Van -Nostrand Magazine</cite>. No magazine ever performed a greater educational -service. There was not only much poetical beauty and philosophical -depth in this tiny and apparently most elementary book on dynamics, -but there were also many illustrations of the close connection between -this fundamental science and other departments of physical science. -Maxwell’s presentation roused, and it also stimulated, the spirit of -inquiry. Routh’s elaborate system of clever tripos problems in dynamics -appeared to me for the first time as little parts, only, of a complex -and endless art which had grown out of a simple and beautiful science, -the science of dynamics, which first saw the light of day at Trinity -College, Cambridge. The exquisite art as practised by Routh and the -subtle science as described by Maxwell, the two leading Cambridge -wranglers of 1854, disclosed to me the real meaning of Newton, the -greatest among the great Cambridge men, the creator of the science -of dynamics. I knew then that I had seen one of the real stars of -heaven of which my mother spoke. But without the light of Maxwell -I would not have seen the light of Newton. It will be seen further -below that Maxwell and Routh, Cambridge wranglers of 1854, were the -representatives of different mental attitudes in Cambridge: Maxwell was -the apostle of the new and Routh of the old spirit of Cambridge. Niven -was very fond of reminding me of my first visit when I had told him -that Cambridge without Maxwell<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>180</span> had no attraction for me. After reading -Maxwell’s little classic I told Niven that my opinion was, after all, -not so funny and strange as he represented it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A short digression is timely now. I went to Trinity College -occasionally to spend a Sunday evening with Mr. Niven. One Sunday -evening I walked around the historical Trinity quadrangle, waiting -until Mr. Niven returned to his rooms from the evening service in the -college chapel. The mysterious-looking light streaming through the -stained-glass windows of the chapel and the heavenly music radiating -from the invisible choir and organ commanded my attention. I stood -motionless like a solitary spectre in the middle of the deserted -and sombre quadrangle, and gazed, and listened, and dreamed. Yes, I -dreamed of great Newton, the greatest of all Trinity dons; and I saw -how, two centuries before, he was treading over the same spot where I -was standing whenever he was returning from a Sunday evening service -in the very chapel at which I was gazing. I dreamed also of Maxwell, -another great Trinity don; and remembered that, five years before, the -very same choir and organ to which I was listening had paid their last -tribute to this great Cambridge man, when his earthly remains left the -grief-stricken university on their last pilgrimage to Maxwell’s native -Scotland. But I knew that his spirit had remained at Cambridge to -inspire forever the coming generations of ambitious students.</p> - -<p>I dreamed of other great Trinity College men whose spirits seemed to -hover about the sombre quadrangle, rejoicing in the heavenly light -and sound which radiated from the historical chapel where Newton and -Maxwell worshipped in days gone by. I longed for the day when my alma -mater, Columbia College, and other colleges in America, could offer -such an inspiring scene to its students; and I wondered how soon that -day would come. Niven<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>181</span> told me the following story which, he thought, -might answer this question:</p> - -<p>A don of Magdalen College, Oxford, was asked by an American friend how -long it would take to raise, in America, a lawn like the famous lawn of -Magdalen College. “I do not know,” said the don, “but it took us over -two centuries to do it here in Oxford.” Niven implied, of course, that -it will take much more than two centuries to create at any American -college that atmosphere which surrounded me at the Trinity College -quadrangle on that memorable Sunday evening. It was the mysterious -charm of that atmosphere which held me chained to Cambridge in spite -of the fact that I did not believe that the Cambridge tripos method of -laying a foundation in mathematical physics was fitting my particular -case.</p> - -<p>Students shift from university to university in continental Europe, -migrating to places where they are attracted by the reputations of -teachers who happen to be there. I went to Cambridge because I thought -that Maxwell was there. But at Cambridge, and at Oxford too, it was -not only the teacher who was there but also the teachers who had lived -there during generations long past who determined the choice made by -ambitious students. The great teachers in the mathematical sciences -when I was there were Lord Rayleigh, the successor of Maxwell; John -Crouch Adams, who, with Leverrier in France, shared in the great -distinction of calculating from the perturbations in the orbit of -Uranus the position of the still unknown planet Neptune; George Gabriel -Stokes, the greatest mathematical physicist in Europe at that time, and -the occupant of the professorial chair once held by great Newton. But -that which brought the students in mathematical sciences to Cambridge -was not only the lustre of the reputations of these great professors, -but also the existence at Cambridge of a historical educational policy, -to the development of which many<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>182</span> great Cambridge mathematicians of -generations long past had made lasting contributions. The mathematical -tripos was the most concrete expression of this traditional policy.</p> - -<p>It can be inferred from what I have already said that this traditional -policy did not suit me. I do not think that it would have suited any -American student of those days who had a taste for physics. I said -once to a Cambridge friend that my landlady, Routh, and rowing shaped -the daily events of my life. He saw my point and admitted that each -one of them represented a powerful determining factor in the life of -a Cambridge student who was preparing for the mathematical tripos -examinations. Each one of them had its deep roots in ancient traditions -from which it was difficult to deviate. Routh was a rare product and -a loyal apostle of the tradition called the Mathematical Tripos. It -was perhaps the most powerful of all Cambridge traditions and stood -as immovable as the rock of Gibraltar; its great strength was the -fact that it had produced many distinguished men of science. But -nevertheless some of the greatest living Cambridge physicists of those -days felt that it had defects and called for remedies. It was claimed -that its method, having no direct connection with the nascent problems -of scientific research, was artificial and unproductive.</p> - -<p>Sir William Thomson, known later as Lord Kelvin, was among the first -who called for speedy remedies. He was the second wrangler in 1845 and -Stephen Parkinson was the senior wrangler. Thomson left Cambridge and -went to Paris to get from the famous physicist Regnault what he could -not get at Cambridge. After a year, when only twenty-two years old, -he accepted a professorship in physics and directorship in physical -research at the University of Glasgow. The long-headed Scotch were -fully thirty years ahead of Cambridge in establishing a research -laboratory in physics. Here Thomson worked out the scientific elements -of the first Atlantic cable, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>183</span> invented the instruments necessary -for its operation. When I was in Cambridge the name of Thomson was -attached to most measuring instruments employed in the electrical -industries at that time, and he was also one of the leaders of abstract -scientific thought. He represented in the popular mind the new spirit -of Cambridge. Stephen Parkinson, Thomson’s superior in the tripos test -of 1845, was still in Cambridge when I was there, and had to his credit -a text-book on geometrical optics, with stereotyped problems, suitable -for tripos examinations. He was not among those who called for a change -in the traditional mathematical tripos examinations at Cambridge. -Maxwell, undoubtedly inspired by Thomson, was one of the earliest -leaders of the Cambridge movement which demanded a modification of the -mathematical tripos, favoring more the spirit of research and less the -art of solving cleverly formulated mathematical problems. The Cavendish -Physics Laboratory, organized by Maxwell and first opened in 1874, was, -according to Niven, a concrete expression of this movement.</p> - -<p>A similar movement was taking place in the United States in those days. -Among its leaders were President Barnard of Columbia College, and -Joseph Henry, the first and the most distinguished secretary of the -Smithsonian Institution. The date of the foundation of Johns Hopkins -University falls within the early period of this movement. Niven told -me that what Maxwell had been doing in the Cavendish Laboratory at -Cambridge was being done also by Maxwell’s friend, Professor Rowland, -at Johns Hopkins, founded in Baltimore in 1876. Maxwell thought very -highly of his young American friend, and undoubtedly recommended him -strongly for the physics professorship at Johns Hopkins. Just as -the establishment of the Cavendish Physics Laboratory in Cambridge -marks the beginning of a great epoch in the development of physics in -Cambridge and in Great Britain,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>184</span> so the organization of the physics -laboratory at Johns Hopkins by Rowland marks a new and most fruitful -era of scientific research in the United States. Rowland’s influence -had not yet been felt at Columbia College when I was a student there, -nor at many other American colleges of those days. But the forward -movement soon commenced; and the people of this country do not -understand yet as fully as they should how much they owe to the late -Henry Augustus Rowland, whom I had the honor of knowing personally and -whose friendship I enjoyed for several years. One of the aims of this -simple narrative is to throw more light upon some obscure spots of this -kind which need more illumination, and particularly upon the work of -men like “Rowland of Troy, the doughty knight,” as Maxwell referred to -him in his verses.</p> - -<p>Another historical fact must be mentioned here which is very -characteristic of the state of the science of physics in those days, -and which is closely connected with the progress of this science as it -appeared to me in the course of the last forty years. I mention now -another great American physicist whose name, like that of Rowland, I -first heard mentioned at Cambridge at that time, and that was Professor -Josiah Willard Gibbs, of Yale. I know that many of my young colleagues -will find it strange that I never had heard of Lord Rayleigh, of -England, before I graduated at Columbia. What will they say when they -hear that at that time I never had heard of famous Willard Gibbs, of -Yale, New Haven, U. S. A.? Will they charge me with extraordinary -ignorance, for which Columbia of those days was to blame? That would be -unjust, as the following story will prove. One evening, after dinner, -I was enjoying at the University Club, New York, the company of some -twelve Yale graduates, and one of them was the learned Professor -William Welch, dean of the Johns Hopkins Medical School. He was then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>185</span> -president of the National Academy of Sciences. Most of my Yale friends -present were of about my age or even older. I offered to wager that -the majority of them would fail to give the name of the scientist who, -in Doctor Welch’s opinion and in mine, was the greatest scientist that -Yale had ever graduated. Not one of them mentioned Willard Gibbs. When -I mentioned his name they frankly confessed that they had never heard -of him before. Neither they nor Yale College of those days were to -blame. Did my fellow students at Cambridge, who were training for the -mathematical tripos, ever hear of him before they came to Cambridge? -If they did, it was by accident, just as I heard of him by accident. -Such was the spirit of the times in those days; and it was against this -spirit that President Barnard of Columbia took up arms. He considered -its existence a national calamity. But I shall return to this point -later.</p> - -<p>I will now describe the accident just mentioned, because it is closely -connected with the main thread of my narrative. In the beginning of the -Easter term, the third term of my training under Routh, I had caught up -with my class and had spare time for outside reading. Niven was greatly -impressed by my enthusiastic eulogies of Maxwell’s little book, “Matter -and Motion,” and he suggested that I take up the reading of another -of Maxwell’s little classics, “Theory of Heat.” It was written with -the same elegant simplicity as his “Matter and Motion.” This little -text-book on heat was the first to give me a living physical picture -of the mode of operation by which heat is transformed into mechanical -work, an operation which I had watched so often in the Cortlandt -Street boiler-room. I had watched it, but I had never dreamed that the -operation could be described as Maxwell described it. According to -him it may be considered as the resultant action of non-coordinated -activities of an immense number of busy little molecules, each of -which, as far as human<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>186</span> observers can tell, moves about lustily -according to its own sweet will. But behold the miracle: the average -activity of the countless crowd obeys with mathematical accuracy the -fundamental law for heat transformations, the so-called second law of -thermodynamics discovered by Sadi Carnot, the great French engineer. It -was Maxwell’s little classic which also informed me that in all cases -of very large numbers of individuals, whether they be active molecules -or busy human beings, exhibiting as far as an observer can tell -non-coordinated activities, we must apply the so-called statistical -method of inquiry, that is, the method which statisticians employ in -recording the activity of a nation. Newton’s dynamics, which at that -time had been the food of Cambridge for two centuries, said nothing -about that. It was a new idea in the heads of new men, who, under the -leadership of Maxwell, were creating a new and far-reaching science. -Up to that time Tyndall’s poetical description of “Heat as a Mode -of Motion” was my gospel regarding thermal phenomena, but Maxwell’s -plain and modest text-book, intended to stimulate the imagination of -the inquisitive mind of the young student, was the first to assist me -in forming my own judgment on the doctrines described by Tyndall and -illustrated by beautiful experiments. Routh’s training-table of tripos -athletes offered no such morsels of stimulating food, because these -athletes were training for tripos examinations and not for research in -physics. I will say now that it was in Maxwell’s theory of heat that -I first saw the name of Willard Gibbs, and I heard from Niven that -Maxwell held Gibbs in very high esteem. I must say also that Gibbs was -the first in this country to write a splendid treatise on statistical -mechanics.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When the Easter term approached its end in May I began to think of my -summer vacation. I needed one.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>187</span> Seven months of steady drilling under -Routh, supplemented by extra reading prescribed by him, and also by -the reading of Maxwell’s inspiring books, had produced results with -which I was satisfied, and so was Mr. Niven, my Trinity College mentor. -I certainly did not feel any more like a goose wandering in a fog; -I saw much light ahead, and felt much more confident that I saw the -goal for which I was steering. But my pitch was very high and I needed -de-tuning. I finally decided to visit some little place in France -and selected Pornic, on the French Atlantic coast, in the department -called Loire Inférieure. I knew nothing about it except what I had -read in Baedeker, but it looked to me like a quiet little place where -in addition to complete change of scene I should have a good chance -to learn French. The names of Laplace, La Grange, and Ampère were -mentioned so often and with so much veneration by Maxwell, that I felt -ashamed of my ignorance of the language of France. Pornic was only a -day’s journey from Cambridge, and off I went with no other books in my -bag beside Campbell’s “Life of Maxwell” and a French grammar.</p> - -<p>The Pornic landlady was not up to the standard of my Cambridge -landlady, but I did not complain nor make any invidious comparisons; -the English were not very popular in those days on the Atlantic coast -of France, where the oldest fishermen had not yet forgotten the -operations of the English fleet during the Napoleonic wars. I was the -only stranger in town, and when it became known that I was an American -who had come to Pornic to study the language of France the village was -mine. I engaged the village schoolmaster to give me French conversation -lessons. I met him in his garden every evening and we talked to our -hearts’ content. He was a most entertaining little fellow, with a -bald head, a red nose, and a big snuff-box to which he appealed very -frequently for a fresh supply of interesting topics of conversation.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>188</span> -He boasted among the villagers that his reputation as a French scholar -had reached the United States and, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">voilà</i>, had brought me to -Pornic. I never denied it, but on the contrary I often walked through -the village streets with the good old <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">maître d’école</i> and -listened most attentively to his French accents as if they were the -rarest pearls of wisdom.</p> - -<p>When the villagers found out that I was not only an American but also -a student of a great English university, then the stock of the little -schoolmaster rose sky-high. My landlady informed me that the old -curé had become quite jealous of the little man’s rapid rise in the -community. An old but renovated Norman castle was a part of Pornic; -it stood on the very edge of the steep coast and it was inhabited in -summer by a rich merchant of Nantes. The castle had a thick grove of -stately old trees, and there the nightingales revelled. On moonlight -nights I spent many watchful hours listening to their mellow notes, -accompanied by the solemn rhythm of the Atlantic waves striking gently -upon the cliffs of the rocky coast, which appeared in my imagination, -as I listened, like towering pipes of a giant organ. In daytime I -selected lonely spots on the coast and there I spent my days from early -morning till late in the afternoon memorizing my French grammar and -vocabulary. Every evening I practised for an hour or so in conversation -with my beloved <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">maître d’école</i>. This advanced my knowledge of -French very rapidly and before one month was over I could converse -tolerably well. My circle of acquaintances expanded rapidly as my -knowledge of French increased, until it took in the nightingale grove, -including the family of the merchant from Nantes. Between my friends in -the nightingale grove and my schoolmaster’s garden my conversation in -French became so fluent that it astonished the natives. They pronounced -it perfect. But discounting this enthusiastic estimate by even fifty -per<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>189</span> cent I was still secure in my belief that I was enriched by a good -knowledge of the language of a great civilization. A two months’ visit -to Pornic had been my plan; its end was very near, and my trip was a -success. I bade good-by to my friends in little Pornic and arrived in -Paris on the following day, the fourteenth of July, 1884.</p> - -<p>Paris was gay, celebrating the national holiday of France, the -anniversary of the storming of the Bastille in 1789. This gave me a -chance to see many of the striking characteristics of the gay side -of Paris in a single day. The next day, while visiting the great -Sorbonne and the Collège de France in the Quartier Latin, I found a -great treasure in a second-hand bookshop: La Grange’s great treatise, -“Méchanique Analytique,” first published under the auspices of the -French Academy in 1788. La Grange, the Newton of France! There was no -student of dynamics who had not heard of his name and of his great -treatise. My two months’ stay in Pornic had enabled me to appreciate -fully the beauty of the language of this great work, and my training -with Routh had eliminated many difficulties of the mathematical -technique. I was convinced of that in my very first attempts in Paris -at deciphering some of its inspiring pages. I describe this short stay -in France at some length, because I wish to refer to it later for the -purpose of showing how little things can exert a big influence in the -shaping of human life.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I had promised my mother to visit her again during that summer, and -off I went, deserting without delay the gay scenes of Paris. On my -journey to Idvor I wasted no time looking to the right or to the left -of my speeding train; villages and towns, rivers and mountains, and the -busy folks in the yellow fields who were gathering in the blessings -of the harvest season appeared like so many passing pictures which -did not interest me. La Grange was talking to me, and I had neither -eyes nor ears for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>190</span> anybody or for anything else. Oh, how happy I was -when I saw Idvor in the distance, where I knew I should be free for -nearly two months during that summer to read and to reflect, free from -all restraints of the Cambridge routine. By the end of that heavenly -vacation I had mastered a good part of La Grange’s classical treatise, -and in addition I had reread carefully Campbell’s “Life of Maxwell,” -and I understood many things which I had seen in Cambridge but had not -understood before. The Cambridge movement described above was clearly -revealed to me in the course of that summer, by a careful study of -Campbell’s “Life of Maxwell.”</p> - -<p>Idvor was never rich in books nor in people who paid much attention to -books. To think that a native of Idvor would ever read a La Grange in -his humble peasant home seemed incredible. The natives of Idvor noticed -that, during my second visit, I was much less communicative than during -the first, on account of my devotion to what they considered some -strange books, which to those who saw them suggested sacred books. The -company of La Grange and of Maxwell kept me a prisoner in my mother’s -garden. I told my mother that Maxwell and La Grange were two great -saints in the world of science, and she regarded my reading during that -summer as a study of the lives of saints. That made her happy, but it -puzzled the good people of Idvor. Studies of this kind they associated -with priests and bishops; and, noticing that I paid much less attention -to bagpipes and kolo dancers and to other worldly things, they began to -whisper about that Misha was getting ready to enter monastic life. What -a pity, they said, to gather so much knowledge in great America and -then bury it in a monastery!</p> - -<p>My mother paid no attention to these idle whisperings. She knew better. -When I described to her the ancient college buildings and the beautiful -chapels of Cambridge, and the religious life of the students and of -the dons, she<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>191</span> listened spellbound. When I related to her the many -traditions of the old university, and informed her that one learned -there, not only from the teachers living there at that time, but also -from great teachers who had long departed, a luminous expression in her -eyes told me that she was about to reveal to me an original thought. -“I go to church, my son,” she said, “not so much because I expect the -priest to reveal to me some new divine truth, but because I wish to -look at the icons of saints. That reminds me of their saintly work, -and through the contemplation of their work I communicate with God. -Cambridge is a great temple consecrated to the <em>eternal truth</em>: it -is filled with icons of the great saints of science. The contemplation -of their saintly work will enable you to communicate with the spirit of -<em>eternal truth</em>.”</p> - -<p>With this thought in her mind my mother was most happy when I bade her -good-by and, repeating her own words, told her that I must go back to -“Cambridge, the great temple which is consecrated to the <em>eternal -truth</em>.” “Go back, my son,” she said, “and may God be praised -forever for the blessings which you have enjoyed and will continue to -enjoy in your life among the saints of Cambridge.”</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>192</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="vii">VII<br /> -<span>END OF STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> I returned to Cambridge from little Idvor I often thought of my -mother’s words saying that I was living among the saints of Cambridge. -These words sounded like the language which the minstrel of the old -Serbian ballads would have used, to convey the meaning which she wished -to convey. Whenever I saw one of the great dons of Cambridge, like the -famous mathematician Cayley, or the still more famous mathematical -physicist George Gabriel Stokes, the discoverer of fluorescence, I -asked myself: “Are they the saints of Cambridge?” The answer was in -the negative; most of these men were too mobile to pass for saints. -One of them, for instance, although quite old and blind, was the -stroke of a boat which was very prominent on the river Cam. Its crew -consisted of Cambridge dons. When this aged stroke was not rowing he -was riding a spirited horse, usually galloping briskly, with his young -daughter chasing alongside of him, her long golden hair, like that of -a valkyrie, lashing the air as she made strenuous efforts to keep up -with her speedy father. It was impossible to associate one’s idea of -saints with men of that type. But, nevertheless, my mother was right: -Cambridge had its saints; their memory was the great glory of Cambridge.</p> - -<p><cite>Nature</cite>, published in London, was then, as it is to-day, the -most popular scientific weekly in the United Kingdom. Many scientists -of Cambridge used it as a medium for discussing in a popular way the -current scientific events of the day. Among the files of <cite>Nature</cite>, -which I consulted<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>193</span> often, I found once a beautiful steel engraving -of Faraday, together with a brief account of Faraday’s work. It was -written by Maxwell, as I found out later. Speaking of the activity of -teachers of science, the writer said that they are expected “to bring -the student into contact with two main sources of mental growth, <em>the -fathers of sciences</em>, for whose personal influence over the opening -mind there is no substitute, and the material things to which their -labors first gave meaning.” In the light of this thought I saw that -in his two little classics, “Matter and Motion” and “Theory of Heat,” -Maxwell had brought me into contact with the fathers of dynamical -sciences, and that La Grange, in his “Méchanique Analytique,” had shown -me the men who were the fathers of the science of dynamics, and that -for this service I owed them everlasting gratitude.</p> - -<p>Jim, the humble fireman in the Cortlandt Street factory, told me once: -“This country, my lad, is a monument to the lives of men of brains and -character and action who made it.” From that day on the name “United -States of America” recalled to my mind Washington, Hamilton, Franklin, -Lincoln, and the other great men who are universally regarded as the -fathers of this country; and when I learned to know and to appreciate -them I felt that I was qualified to consider myself a part of this -country. Maxwell and La Grange had taught me that Archimedes, Galileo, -Newton, Carnot, Helmholtz, and other great investigators had made the -dynamical sciences; and from that time on these sciences like monuments -recalled to my mind the names of the men who made them. I never saw a -man handling a crowbar without remembering that it was the historic -lever which in the philosophy of Archimedes served as the earliest -foundation for the science of statics. The word <em>force</em> always -recalled the picture of Galileo dropping heavy bodies from the Leaning -Tower of Pisa, and watching their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>194</span> uniformly accelerated motions, -produced by the force which was impelling the falling body to the -earth. The picture reminded me that by these ideally simple experiments -Galileo had banished forever the mediæval superstition that bodies -fall because they are afraid of the vacuum above, and had substituted -in its place the simple law of accelerating force, which prepared the -foundation for the science of dynamics. I never saw a moving train -being brought to a standstill by the frictional reactions of the brakes -without seeing in my imagination the image of Newton formulating his -great law of equality between physical actions and physical reactions, -the crowning point of modern dynamics. These pictures illustrated what -Maxwell meant when he spoke of the material things to which the labors -of Archimedes, Galileo, and Newton gave a meaning, and when I caught -that meaning I felt that I was no longer a stranger in the land of -science. Their highest meaning, I knew, was the recognition that the -truth which they conveyed was a part only of what my mother called the -“Eternal Truth.”</p> - -<p>My work in Cambridge, guided principally by Maxwell and La Grange, -reminded me, therefore, continually of the fathers of the sciences -which I was studying and of the material things to which their labors -gave a meaning. These thoughts gave me a satisfactory interpretation -of my mother’s words: “Cambridge is a great temple consecrated to the -eternal truth; it is filled with icons of the great saints of science. -The contemplation of their saintly work will enable you to communicate -with the spirit of eternal truth.” My description of the scientific -activity of Cambridge had produced this image in her mind, which was -dominated by a spirit of piety and of reverence. This spirit, I always -thought, is needed in science just as much as it is in religion. It was -the spirit of Maxwell and of La Grange.</p> - -<p>The atmosphere of Cambridge was most favorable to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>195</span> the cultivation of -a spirit of reverence in scientific thought. At that time, just as -to-day, Newton’s name was the glory of Trinity College, and the name -of Darwin was regarded with the same feeling of reverence at Christ -College. Every college at Cambridge had at least one great name which -was the glory of that college. These, one may say, were the names of -the patron saints of Cambridge; their spirit was present everywhere, -and its influence was certainly wonderful. It reminded me of my -mother’s words: “May God be praised forever for the blessings which you -have enjoyed and will continue to enjoy in your life among the saints -of Cambridge.”</p> - -<p>It may seem strange that a Cambridge student of science should have -worried so much about interpreting his pious mother’s words in terms -of his expanding scientific knowledge. But that student was once a -Serb peasant in whose early childhood the old Serbian ballads were -his principal spiritual food. The central figure of these ballads -was Prince Marko, the national hero, who at critical moments of his -tempestuous life never appealed for aid to any man. When he needed -counsel he asked it from his aged mother Yevrosima, and when he needed -help in combat he appealed to Vila Raviyoyla, Marko’s adopted sister, -the greatest of all the fairies of the clouds. A mother can have a -wonderful influence over her boy whose early mental attitude is moulded -by impressions of that kind. When she has that influence, then she is -her boy’s oracle, and no amount of subsequent scientific training will -disturb that relationship.</p> - -<p>I often think of an old idea which I first conceived while a student -at Cambridge. It is this: Our American colleges and universities -should have days consecrated to the memories of what Maxwell called -the fathers of the sciences, like Copernicus, Galileo, Newton, -Faraday, Maxwell, Darwin, Helmholtz. I mention these names, having -physical sciences in mind, but similar names can<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>196</span> be mentioned in -other departments of human knowledge. Why should not science follow -the beautiful example of religion, which has its saints’ days? On -these memorial days, say Newton’s birthday, an address on Newton and -his work should tell the young student why Newton is the father of the -science of dynamics. Dynamics is not a mere collection of inexorable -physical laws which to a young student often sound like dry scientific -facts and mute formulæ. Many text-books, unfortunately, represent -it that way. It is a record of the life-work of men who lived human -lives and became what my mother called “saints of science,” because -they devoted their life-efforts to the deciphering of divine messages -which, through physical phenomena, God addresses to man. The young -mind should know as early as possible that dynamics had its origin -in the heavens, in the motions of heavenly bodies, and that it was -brought to earth by Galileo and Newton when they had deciphered the -meaning of the divine message conveyed to them by these celestial -motions. The Greeks of old sacrificed to their gods a hecatomb of -oxen whenever one of their philosophers discovered a new theorem in -geometry, and the philosopher’s memory was praised forever. The modern -nations should not remain indifferent to the memory of the “saints of -science,” whose discoveries have advanced so much the physical and -the spiritual welfare of man. My life among the saints of Cambridge -suggested this idea, and my students, past and present, know that I -have always been loyal to it, because I always believed that in this -manner every American college and university could raise an invisible -“temple consecrated to the eternal truth” and fill it with “icons of -the great saints of science.” A spirit of reverence for the science -which the student is studying should be cultivated from the very start. -I observed that spirit among my friends, the mathematical tripos men, -at Cambridge; it was there as a part of local traditions.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>197</span> I certainly -felt its influence, and the longer I stayed at Cambridge the more I -felt convinced that “Cambridge is a great temple consecrated to the -eternal truth.” This enabled me to recognize while still at Cambridge -that nothing was more characteristic of the mental attitude of many -scientific men in America and in England at that time than their -reverence for the “saints of science” and their strong desire to build -great temples “consecrated to the eternal truth.” Maxwell was one of -their leaders, and the best illustration of that mental attitude. I -have already referred to this in my short allusion to the Cambridge -craving for scientific research, and I shall now attempt to describe -a much wider intellectual movement of which this craving was a local -manifestation only. I felt the force of its current during my Cambridge -days, and I recognize to-day that at that time I moved along following -more or less unconsciously the stream-lines of this current.</p> - -<p>The completion of the mathematical training under Routh recommended by -Niven was approaching its end, and I was satisfied with its results. -I could follow without much effort the lectures of Stokes and Lord -Rayleigh, and I could handle the mathematics of Maxwell’s theory of -electricity with considerable ease; but I did not understand his -physics.</p> - -<p>President Barnard, of Columbia College, said once in an address of -fifty years ago that a young student in America at that time lacked a -“knowledge of visible things and not information about them—knowledge -acquired by the learner’s own conscious efforts, not crammed into -his mind in set forms of words out of books.” His statement fitted -admirably my own case; I lacked that knowledge of visible things which -one gets from his own conscious efforts; I had no knowledge of physics -acquired from my own conscious efforts in a physical laboratory. -Neither Columbia College nor any other college in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>198</span> United States, -with very few exceptions, offered at that time this opportunity to the -student. I suspected that this was the real secret of my inability to -understand Maxwell’s physics; I longed for work in a real physical -laboratory and made preparations to enter the Cavendish Laboratory at -Cambridge. But I learned, in the beginning of 1885, that Lord Rayleigh -had given up the directorship of this laboratory, and that a Mr. J.J. -Thomson of Trinity College had been appointed as his successor, the -same Thomson who is to-day Sir John Joseph Thomson, Master of Trinity -College, and the leading physicist in the world. The new director was -only twenty-eight years of age in the year of his appointment—at the -end of 1884. Although a second wrangler in the mathematical tripos -test of 1880, he was four years later already a sufficiently famous -experimental physicist to be appointed director of the Cavendish -Laboratory. The new director was only two years older than myself, but -he was already a famous experimental physicist, whereas I had never -had a physical apparatus in my hand. What will he think of me, thought -I, when I present myself to him and ask for permission to work as a -mere beginner in the Cavendish Laboratory! I blushed when I thought of -it, and I was afraid that I should blush even more when he compared -me to his younger students who had already acquired much skill in -physical manipulations. The failure of my competition with boys and -girls in the speed tests of punching biscuits in the Cortlandt Street -cracker factory came back to my memory; and I bemoaned, just as I did -in Cortlandt Street nine years before, my hard luck of having had no -earlier training. Many an American college student of physics bemoaned -in those days his lack of early laboratory training. When I say this -I am touching the principal point of my narrative; it is the point at -which my narrative begins to sail on the back of a wave which started -actually when Johns Hopkins<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>199</span> University was organized, in 1876, but the -motive power of which had been gathering long before that, perhaps at -the same time when the motive power of the Cambridge movement in favor -of scientific research was gathering, resulting, as it had, in the -establishment of the Cavendish Laboratory. But I must resume the thread -of my story and return later to the point just mentioned.</p> - -<p>My lack of what Barnard called “knowledge of visible things ... -acquired by the learner’s own conscious efforts ...” gave me much -anxiety; and I often thought that it would, perhaps, be better to go -to some other university where the director of the physical laboratory -was an older man, who would not notice my age as much as would the new -and extremely young director of the Cavendish Laboratory. That thought, -however, did not console me much, because I was very much attached -to Cambridge and did not wish to give up what my mother called “life -among the saints of Cambridge.” Just then, as if by an act of kind -providence, a letter from President Barnard of Columbia College reached -me, enclosing a letter of introduction to John Tyndall, the famous -physicist, colleague and successor of Faraday in the direction of the -Royal Institution. Barnard informed me that Columbia had received a -generous sum of money from Tyndall, representing a part of the net -proceeds from his famous course of public lectures on light, which -he had delivered in the United States in 1872–1873; that the income -of this sum would be given as a fellowship to a Columbia graduate to -assist him in his study of experimental physics; that the fellowship -would be called a John Tyndall Fellowship, netting over five hundred -dollars annually; and that he and Rood, professor of physics at -Columbia, considered me a suitable candidate. Unexpected things of -this kind happen every now and then, and when they do they certainly -encourage the belief that there is such a thing as luck.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>200</span> -I called on Tyndall without much delay, and delivered Barnard’s letter -of introduction. One may imagine how I felt when I saw and spoke to the -very man whose descriptions of physical phenomena had been the first -to disclose to me on the top loft of the Cortlandt Street factory the -poetical side of the physical sciences. I expected to find a scientist -looking like a poet and a dreamer, but I did not. He looked exactly -what he was: a plain and benevolent Irishman. I had seen many an old -Irishman, among my New York friends and acquaintances, who looked -exactly as Tyndall looked; and when he spoke there was also the fire, -the vigor, and the humor of the agile Irish mind. In less than the time -it takes to tell this he made me feel that I had always known him, and -that he was my old and generous friend. His questions were wonderfully -direct, just as direct, I thought, as the questions which he addressed -to physical phenomena when in his famous lectures he was deciphering -their hidden meaning. He deciphered me very quickly, I thought, as if I -were the simplest physical phenomenon which he had ever observed. The -fact, however, that I held his attention encouraged me. He apparently -attached no very great importance to my lack of early training in -experimental physics, but advised me to avoid further delay. He -informed me, by way of encouraging me, that he was over thirty when -he took his doctor’s degree at the University of Marburg, in Germany. -A lack of early advantages, he thought, could always be overcome by -redoubling one’s efforts in later years. His own career proved that. -He called my attention to a short account of the work of the famous -Helmholtz, written for <cite>Nature</cite> by no less a man, he said, than -great Maxwell. This story, he thought, would show me that the great -professor at the University of Berlin did not have early advantages in -experimental physics, and that he became a professor of physics when -he was already<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>201</span> fifty years of age. He encouraged me to apply for the -new fellowship at Columbia as soon as it became operative, and to make -up my mind quickly to migrate to the best physical laboratory that I -could find. I asked him what laboratory he would recommend and he again -directed my attention to Maxwell’s account of the work of Helmholtz. -When I was about to leave, promising, at his request, to call again, he -gave me a copy of his lectures on light, which he had delivered in the -United States thirteen years before. “Read them,” he said, “and when -you come again I shall be glad to discuss with you some of the points -of this little book; they will explain to you the full meaning of -President Barnard’s letter, and of its historical background. Read also -volume VIII of <cite>Nature</cite>.”</p> - -<p>I had read Tyndall’s lectures on light before I entered Columbia -College, but upon reading them again I found there very many things -which I had missed before. They did not, of course, describe -satisfactorily the physical properties of the luminiferous ether—no -lectures ever did—but they did describe, I thought, a bit of the -history of physical sciences in the United States which was a -revelation to me, and was, as I know now, a most important contribution -to the history of the development of scientific thought in the United -States. It deserves a prominent place in this narrative, because I had -been a witness of this development during the past forty years.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="joseph" style="width: 1000px;"> - <img src="images/facing204a-i.jpg" width="500" height="683" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">JOSEPH HENRY (1799–1878)</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing204a.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Joseph Henry, the most distinguished American physicist, together with -other distinguished American scientists, among them President Barnard -of Columbia College, invited Tyndall, in 1872, to deliver a course of -lectures in some of the principal cities in the United States. The -object of these lectures was, quoting Tyndall’s words, “to show the -uses of experiment in the cultivation of natural knowledge,” hoping -that this “would materially<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>202</span> promote scientific education in this -country.” Tyndall delivered his famous course of six lectures on light -in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington. Joseph -Henry, as secretary of the Smithsonian Institution and president of the -National Academy of Sciences, took them under his personal direction. -The success of these lectures surpassed even the most sanguine -expectations. At the farewell dinner to Tyndall some of the wisest -scientific intellects of the land were heard, and their words indicated -clearly what was the uppermost thought in the minds of the scientific -men of the United States when they invited Tyndall. I quote here some -of the words spoken by these men.</p> - -<p>President Barnard of Columbia, the first American expounder of the -undulatory theory of light, said:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>I say, then, that our long-established and time-honored system of -liberal education ... does not tend to form original investigators of -nature’s truths....</p> - -<p>Among the great promoters of scientific progress ... how large is -the number who may, in strict propriety, be said to have educated -themselves? Take, for illustration, such familiar names as those of -William Herschel, and Franklin, and Rumford, and Rittenhouse, and -Davy, and Faraday, and Henry. Is it not evident that nature herself, -to those who will follow her teachings, is a better guide to the -study of her own phenomena than all the training of our schools? And -is not this because nature invariably begins with the training of the -observing faculties?</p> - -<p>The moral of this experience is, that mental culture is not secured -by pouring information into passive recipients; it comes from -stimulating the mind to gather knowledge for itself.... If we would -fit man properly to cultivate nature ... our earliest teachings must -be things and not words.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Doctor John William Draper, the world-renowned American investigator of -the laws of radiation from hot bodies, said:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Nowhere in the world are to be found more imposing political problems -than those to be settled here; nowhere a greater need of scientific<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>203</span> -knowledge. I am not speaking of ourselves alone, but also of our -Canadian friends on the other side of the St. Lawrence. We must join -together in generous emulation of the best that is done in Europe.... -Together we must try to refute what De Tocqueville has said about us, -that communities such as ours can never have a love of pure science.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Andrew White, President of Cornell, said:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>I will confine myself to the value, in our political progress, of -the spirit and example of some of the scientific workers of our day -and generation. What is the example which reveals that spirit? It -is an example of <em>zeal</em>, zeal in search for the truth ... of -<em>thoroughness</em>—of the truth sought in its wholeness ... of -<em>bravery</em>, to brave all outcry and menace ... of <em>devotion</em> -to duty without which no scientific work can be accomplished ... of -<em>faith</em> that truth and goodness are inseparable.</p> - -<p>The reverence for scientific achievement, the revelation of the -high honors which are in store for those who seek for truth in -science—the inevitable comparison between a life devoted to -the great pure search, on the one hand, and a life devoted to -place-hunting or self-grasping on the other—all these shall come -to the minds of thoughtful men in lonely garrets of our cities, in -remote cabins of our prairies, and thereby shall come strength and -hope for higher endeavor.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Tyndall responded in part as follows:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>It would be a great thing for this land of incalculable destinies -to supplement its achievements in the industrial arts by those -higher investigations from which our mastery over nature and over -industrial art itself has been derived.... To no other country is -the cultivation of science, in its highest form, of more importance -than to yours. In no other country would it exert a more benign and -elevating influence.... Let chairs be founded, sufficiently but not -luxuriously endowed, which shall have original research for their -main object and ambition.... The willingness of American citizens to -throw their fortunes into the cause of public education is, as I have -already stated, without parallel in my experience. Hitherto their -efforts have been directed to the practical side of science.... But -assuredly among your men of wealth there are those willing to listen -to an appeal on higher grounds.... It is with the view of giving -others the chance that I enjoyed,[I cannot find a reason for this -comma, it results in a pause where there should not be one] among -my noble and disinterested German teachers, that I propose, after -deducting, with strict accuracy, the sums which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>204</span> have been actually -expended on my lectures, <em>to devote every cent of the money which -you have so generously poured in upon me to the education of young -American philosophers in Germany</em>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="john"> - <img src="images/facing204b-i.jpg" width="500" height="673" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">JOHN TYNDALL (1820–1893)</div> - <div class="caption">From a photograph taken about 1885</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing204b.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>What a splendid example to the men of wealth to whom Tyndall was -appealing! We shall see later that the appeal was not made in vain.</p> - -<p>But the sentiments expressed at this dinner were echoes, only, of -Tyndall’s thundering voice, to which America listened spellbound when -he delivered the last of his course of six lectures on light. In the -last part of this lecture, called “Summary and Conclusions,” he first -erected what my mother would have called “a temple consecrated to the -eternal truth” which we call light, and in that temple he placed what -she would have called “the icons of the saints of the science” of -light. The names of Alhazan, Vitellio, Roger Bacon, Kepler, Snellius, -Newton, Thomas Young, Fresnel, Stokes, and Kirchhoff stood there like -so many icons of saints which one sees on the altars of orthodox -churches. In this he surpassed, I thought, even Maxwell and La Grange, -and that was saying a great deal. He stood in the middle of that temple -and challenged the statement once made by De Tocqueville that “the man -of the North has not only experience but knowledge. He, however, does -not care for science as a pleasure, and only embraces it with avidity -when it leads to useful applications.” Tyndall proceeded to draw a -clear distinction between science and its applications, pointing out -that technical education without original investigations will “lose -all force and growth, all power of reproduction,” just “as surely as a -stream dwindles when the spring dies out.” “The original investigator,” -said Tyndall, “constitutes the fountainhead of knowledge. It belongs -to the teacher to give this knowledge the requisite form; an honorable -and often difficult task. But it is a task which receives its final -sanctification when the teacher himself honestly tries to add a rill to -the great<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>205</span> stream of scientific discovery. Indeed, it may be doubted -whether the real life of science can be fully felt and communicated -by the man who has not himself been taught by direct communion with -nature. We may, it is true, have good and instructive lectures from -men of ability, the whole of whose knowledge is second-hand, just as -we may have good and instructive sermons from intellectually able and -unregenerate men. But for that power of science which corresponds to -what the Puritan fathers would call experimental religion in the heart, -you must ascend to the original investigator.”</p> - -<p>Many more passages could be quoted from Tyndall’s “Summary and -Conclusions” of his American lectures. Suffice it to say here that the -cause of scientific research in this country never had a more eloquent -advocate than Tyndall. The message which he delivered in his American -lecture tour in 1872–1873 was heard and heeded in every part of the -United States and of the British Empire. It is no exaggeration to say -that the response to this call was the movement for scientific research -in American colleges and universities which dates from those memorable -years. It was in its earliest days under the leadership of the famous -Joseph Henry, President Barnard, and other American scientists who had -associated themselves in the National Academy of Sciences which was -chartered by an act of Congress in 1863.</p> - -<p>I shall try to show in the course of this narrative that it was the -greatest intellectual movement in the United States, producing results -of which nobody could even have dreamed fifty years ago; and the end is -not yet in sight.</p> - -<p>Tyndall had called my attention to volume VIII of <cite>Nature</cite>. -The article on Faraday I had read before, but there were a large -number of other communications advocating strongly the stimulation of -scientific research in colleges and universities. Tyndall’s “Summary -and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>206</span> Conclusions” had aroused a deep interest in my mind for these -things, and besides, they furnished a most welcome sidelight upon the -Cambridge movement which, as described above, I had felt before I -met Tyndall. The University of Cambridge was severely criticised in -these communications by some Cambridge dons themselves on account of -the alleged entire absence of the scientific research stimulus. One -of these criticisms is so characteristic of the feeling of Cambridge -in 1873 that it deserves a special reference. It is in volume VIII of -<cite>Nature</cite> and is entitled: “A Voice from Cambridge.” A very brief -abstract follows:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>It is known all over the world that science is all but dead in -England. By science, of course, we mean that searching for new -knowledge which is its own reward.... It is also known that science -is perhaps deadest of all at our universities. Let any one compare -Cambridge, for instance, with any German university; nay, with even -some provincial offshoots of the University of France.... What, then, -do the universities do? They perform the functions, for too many of -their students, of first-grade schools merely, and that in a manner -about which opinions are divided; and superadded to these is an -enormous examining engine, on the most approved Chinese model, always -at work....</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Not even President Barnard could have uttered a more severe criticism! -The most forcible appeal was made by the president of the British -Association for the Advancement of Science at its meeting in Bradford, -in September, 1873. This I also found in volume VIII of <cite>Nature</cite>. -These stirring appeals were published several months after Tyndall’s -lecture tour in the United States, and they all sounded to me like -so many echoes of the thundering voice with which he delivered the -“Summary and Conclusions” of his American lectures.</p> - -<p>These studies, recommended by Tyndall, gave me a view of science -which I did not have before. I caught a glimpse of it from the books -of Maxwell and La Grange,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>207</span> to which I referred above. The realms of -science are a strange land to a youth who enters them, just as the -United States was a strange land to me when I landed at Castle Garden. -Maxwell, La Grange, and Tyndall were the first to teach me how to -catch the spirit of the strange land of science, and when I caught it -I felt as confident as I did in Cortlandt Street after I had read and -understood the early historical documents of the United States. I knew -that soon I should be able to apply for citizenship in that great state -called science. These were the thoughts which I carried with me when I -started out for my second visit to Tyndall.</p> - -<p>When I called on Tyndall again, a month or so after my first visit, -I took along a definite plan for my future work. This pleased him, -because he had advised me that every youth must think through his own -head, the same advice which was given me some years later by Professor -Willard Gibbs, of Yale. I assured Tyndall that my second reading of the -“Summary and Conclusions,” his sixth American lecture, had cleared my -vision, and that I knew perfectly what my next step should be. He was -much amused when I told him how, eighteen months before, I had wandered -into Cambridge like a goose into a fog, and asked me where I got that -expression. I told him that it was a Serbian saying, and he looked -perfectly surprised when I told him that I was a Serb by birth.</p> - -<p>“Well, I did not decipher you as quickly as you said I did. I thought,” -said he, referring to my habit of emphasizing the sound of the letter -<em>r</em> in my pronunciation, “that you were a native American of -Scotch ancestry.” “Why not of Irish?” asked I, entering into his jocose -mood. “Ah, my young friend,” said he, with a merry twinkle in his eye, -“you are too deliberate and too cautious to suggest the Irish type. I -do not know what I would have thought had I seen you when you wandered -into Cambridge ‘like a goose into a fog.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>208</span> -He was evidently much impressed by my careful analysis of his “Summary -and Conclusions” and of its effect upon the minds of American and -English scientists. Seeing that he enjoyed informal conversation and -encouraged it, I told him of my Alpine experiences in Switzerland and -of the anxiety I caused to my English acquaintance because I was far -from being “too deliberate and too cautious.” “Well,” said he, “I might -have suspected an Irish ancestry if I had met you in Switzerland twenty -months ago. But you have changed wonderfully since that time, and if -you keep it up the goose that came to Cambridge may be quite a swan -when it departs from Cambridge.”</p> - -<p>I informed Tyndall that Maxwell’s glowing account of Helmholtz, which I -had seen in Campbell’s life of Maxwell, and in <cite>Nature</cite>, to which -he had referred me, had decided me to migrate from Cambridge to Berlin -and take up the study of experimental physics in Helmholtz’s famous -laboratory. He looked pleased, and referring good-naturedly to my goose -simile again, he said jokingly: “You are no longer a goose in a fog. -Let Helmholtz decide whether you are a swan or not.” Then, growing more -serious, he added: “You will find in the Berlin laboratory the very -things which my American and British friends and I should like to see -in operation in all college and university laboratories in America and -in the British Empire. In this respect the Germans have been leading -the world for over forty years, and they have been splendid leaders.” -This, then, was the reason, I thought, why, twelve years before, -Tyndall said to his New York friends: “I propose ... to devote every -cent of the money which you have so generously poured in upon me to the -education of young American philosophers in Germany.”</p> - -<p>I ventured to address to the very informal Tyndall the following -informal question: “Since in your opinion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>209</span> I am no longer a goose in a -fog, you will have no objection if I apply to the Columbia authorities -to send me as their ‘young American philosopher,’ as their first -Tyndall fellow, to Berlin, will you?” “No, my friend,” said he, “I have -already urged you to do so. Remember, however, that a Tyndall fellow -must never permit himself to wander like a goose in a fog, but must -strive to carry his head high up like a swan, his body floating upon -the clear waters of stored-up human knowledge, and his vision, mounted -on high, searching for new communications with the spirit of eternal -truth, as your mother expressed it so well.” He liked my mother’s -expressions, “temple consecrated to the eternal truth,” and “the icons -of the great saints of science.”</p> - -<p>I will add here that Tyndall’s mental attitude toward science appeared -to me to be the same as my mother’s mental attitude toward religion. -God was the great spiritual background of her religion, and the works -of the prophets and of the saints were, according to her faith, the -only sources from which the human mind can draw the light which will -illuminate this great spiritual background. Hence, as I said before, -her fondness for and her remarkable knowledge of the words of the -prophets and the lives of saints. The “eternal truth” was, according -to my understanding at that time, the sacred background of Tyndall’s -scientific faith, and the works of the great scientific discoverers, -their lives, and their methods of inquiry into physical phenomena were -the only sources from which the human mind can draw the light which -will illuminate that sacred background. He nourished that faith with -a religious devotion, and his appeals in the name of that faith were -irresistible. His friends in America and in England, who were glad to -have him as their advocate of the cause of scientific research, had the -same faith that he had, and they nourished it with the same religious -devotion. I know to-day,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>210</span> and I suspected it at that time, that this -faith was kindled and kept alive in the hearts of those men both here -and in the British Empire by the light of the life and of the wonderful -discoveries of Michael Faraday, and by the prophetic vision which led -this great scientist to his discoveries. He was their contemporary and -his achievements, like a great search-light, showed them the true path -of scientific progress.</p> - -<p>My last visit to Tyndall took place toward the end of the last, that -is, the Easter, term, and when I returned to Cambridge I informed my -friends that at the end of the term I would migrate to Berlin. It was -not necessary for me to assure them how badly I felt to leave what they -often heard me call “the saints and the sacred precincts of Cambridge”; -they knew of my reverence for the place and they also knew my reasons -for that reverence. They understood my reverent devotion to the memory -of Newton, but they did not quite understand my similar devotion to the -memory of Maxwell. How could they? None of his classics were necessary -in order to solve the problems usually served before the candidates -for the mathematical tripos honors. Neither could they understand my -admiration for La Grange, who, in their opinion, was only an imperfect -interpreter of Newton. Helmholtz they appreciated more, but the exalted -opinion which Maxwell had of Helmholtz had not yet penetrated among my -mathematical chums at Cambridge. They were sorry to lose me, they said, -but they did not envy me, because they did not see that Berlin had -anything which Cambridge did not have. This never was the opinion of -Maxwell and it was not at that time the opinion of Tyndall.</p> - -<p>Tyndall was the only physicist that I had ever met who had known -Faraday personally. He was Faraday’s co-worker in the Royal Institution -for many years, and to him and Maxwell I owe my earliest knowledge -of Faraday’s wonderful personality. Tyndall conducted me into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>211</span> that -knowledge by word of mouth, and his conversation about Faraday’s -personality and scientific temperament thrilled me. I told him that -I had bought in a Cambridge second-hand book-shop three volumes of -Faraday’s “Electrical Researches” for three shillings, and Tyndall -remarked: “Faraday is still quite cheap at Cambridge.” Then, after some -meditation, he added: “Read them; their story is just as new and as -stirring to-day as it was when these volumes were first printed. They -will help you much to interpret Maxwell.” He presented me with a copy -of his story, “Faraday as a Discoverer,” which closes with the words:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent0">“Just and faithful knight of God.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>In this book Tyndall drew the same picture of Faraday which Campbell -had given me of Maxwell. One can imagine what it meant to the world to -bring these two spiritual and intellectual giants into personal contact -during the period of 1860–1865, when Maxwell was professor at King’s -College, London, and Faraday was at the Royal Institution, where he -had been for nearly sixty years. It was significant that at the close -of that period, that is, in January, 1865, Maxwell, in a letter to an -intimate friend, said this:</p> - -<p>“I have a paper afloat, with an electromagnetic theory of light, which, -till I am convinced to the contrary, I hold to be great guns.”</p> - -<p>A very strong claim made by the most modest of men! The paper was -presented during that year to the Royal Society and was “great guns.” -It marks, like Newton’s discovery of the law of gravitation and his -formulation of the laws of dynamics, a new epoch in science. In Maxwell -I saw a Newton of the electrical science, but I confess that in those -days nothing more substantial than my youthful enthusiasm justified -me in that opinion. I was aware that my knowledge of Faraday’s -discoveries<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>212</span> and of Maxwell’s interpretation of them was quite hazy, -and I made up my mind to get more light before I started out for Berlin.</p> - -<p>The summer vacation was on and I decided to take Faraday’s “Electrical -Researches” to Scotland, the land of Maxwell. In the preface to his -great—and to me, at that time, enigmatic—electrical treatise Maxwell -modestly had stated that he was an interpreter, only, of Faraday. But -I was delighted when I heard Tyndall’s suggestion that Faraday would -help me to interpret Maxwell. Perhaps, thought I, the invigorating air -of Maxwell’s native Scotland would help me to catch some of the ideas -which Maxwell had caught when he was reading Faraday. I selected what -I thought would be a quiet and secluded spot, the island of Arran. -It belonged to the Duke of Hamilton, and I was told that his grace -had imposed so many restrictions upon his tenants that the island -had become an ideal spot for those who sought seclusion. I found -there a neat little inn at Corrie. It was surrounded by several tiny -cottages for summer visitors who took their meals at the inn. It was -popular with people from Glasgow, Greenock, and Paisley. Every one -of the visiting families was blessed with numerous daughters. They -were very athletic and played tennis from early morning till late in -the afternoon, interrupted now and then by swimming contests in the -frigid waters of the Firth of Clyde. In the evening there was lively -dancing—not easy-going waltzing, but the real fling and reel of the -strenuous Highland type. “What a sturdy race this is,” I said to -myself, as I watched the dancers working themselves up into a frenzy -of rhythmic movements, one hand resting upon the hip, the other raised -high up in the air, while their joyful limbs were pumping up and down -in perfect rhythm as if they were busy pulling up from mother earth all -the earthly joys stored up there for mortal man. The whole scene was -particularly thrilling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>213</span> to me when a piper came along and furnished the -music. The bagpipes reminded me of my native Idvor, and made me feel at -home in bonny Scotland before I had been much over a week in Arran. The -Scotch and the Serbs have many things in common, and I always believed -that somewhere back in the history of Iran they must have belonged to -the same tribe. I am told that at the Macedonian front the Scotch and -the Serbian soldiers got along beautifully, as if they had known each -other from time immemorial, and they had little use for the other races -assembled there. I got along at Corrie as if I had known the Scotch all -my life. But that had its disadvantages also. I came to Corrie looking -for seclusion where, undisturbed, I could communicate with Faraday. -But the lively lassies from Glasgow, Greenock, and Paisley, the tennis -and the swimming contests, the fascinating sound of the bagpipes -accompanying the stirring Highland dances—all these things whispered -into my ear: “Faraday can wait, but your friends here cannot.” Then I -remembered a passage in one of Maxwell’s letters, given in Campbell’s -life of Maxwell, which said: “Well, work is good and reading is good, -but friends are better.” What a splendid excuse for joining the lassies -and the lads at Corrie and revelling in the healthful pursuits of their -youthful exuberance! Besides, said I to myself, have I not accomplished -enough during my eighteen months’ drilling under Routh, Maxwell, La -Grange, Rayleigh, Stokes, and Tyndall to deserve a complete change of -mental and physical activity? When a person looks for an excuse to do -what he or she likes to do a splendid excuse can always be found, and -so I bade a temporary farewell to Faraday’s “Electrical Researches,” -and joined the playful activities of my Corrie friends, challenging -them to go the limit. In tennis and swimming I held my own, but the -Highland reels floored me every time, until Madge, one of the sturdy -lassies from Greenock,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>214</span> by persistent private instruction finally -succeeded in initiating me into the mysteries of the Highland rhythm. -Glen Sannox, near Corrie, with its rich bed of heather, watched me -often by the hour making many futile efforts to catch this rhythm and -make my limbs obey it. Nobody else watched these efforts in lonely -Glen Sannox excepting Madge, and she, I told her, had more fun than -a Bosnian gypsy training his bear. I can still hear the slopes of -Glen Sannox echoing the clear notes of her ringing laughter, whenever -I made an awkward and clumsy movement in my persistent efforts to -master the Highland fling or reel. She could not help it, and I did -not mind it, because I had made up my mind to do the trick or die. -Finally I did it, not very well, but well enough for a fellow who was -not a Scotchman, and Madge presented me with my portrait in pencil, -which she drew during the intermissions between my efforts to master -the art of the Highland dances. That was my reward and it was a very -good one; she was a most promising young artist who had won several -prizes in the Greenock art school. The memory of this experience always -recalled to my mind the thoughts which went through my head at that -time—the thoughts, namely, that Scotch originality, individuality, -and sturdiness are hard to follow, not only when a foreigner meets -these wonderful qualities in the mental activity of a Scot, like the -mental activity of a Maxwell, but also in physical activity like that -displayed in the national dances of Scotland. One does not appreciate -fully the wonderful qualities of the Scot until he tries to master -the theory and the practice of the Highland fling or reel. Maxwell’s -electrical theory, I thought, might be just as different from other -electrical theories as the Highland dances are different from the -dances of other nations. I found out later that my guess was not very -far from the truth.</p> - -<p>Several years ago I was driving through the streets of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>215</span> London, -visiting England again after an absence of many years. Suddenly I saw -a crowd watching a Scotch dancer. The dancer was a young woman in -Highland costume, and she was dancing the sword dance exquisitely; -her husband was playing the bagpipes, marching up and down with all -the swagger of the Scotch Highlander. I stopped my cab, got out, and -watched. The memories of Corrie and Oban and of the gathering of the -clans there which I witnessed while at Arran came back, and I was -thrilled. Presently the dancer reached me in her tour soliciting -voluntary contributions. I threw a sovereign into her plate and she -looked surprised and asked me whether I had not made a mistake. -“Yes,” said I, “I did make a mistake when I went out with only one -sovereign in my pocket. If I had two you should have them both.” “Are -you a Scotchman, sir?” she asked jokingly, and when I said “No” she -smiled and said: “I did not think you were.” She knew that there was a -fundamental difference between a Scot and a Serb.</p> - -<p>After I had been at Corrie for about a month a letter arrived from -my mother, written by my oldest sister, telling me how happy she was -that I had decided to spend my summer in Scotland for the purpose of -meditating over the life and the work of one of the greatest “saints of -science.” I meant Faraday when I wrote to her. She also told me that -Idvor was fearfully dusty on account of a long-continued drought, and -that the crops were poor and the vintage prospects even poorer, and -that Idvor was not a very cheerful place during that summer for anybody -who wished to meditate free from complaints of grumbling neighbors. -“Berlin, I am told, is much nearer to Idvor and when you are there you -can always run down to Idvor, much more easily than you can now,” she -said, closing her letter, in which logic and motherly love vied with -each other to furnish her with a consolation for my absence from Idvor -during that summer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>216</span> -My mother’s letter made me feel guilty and it called for a -reconsideration of my first resolution, adopted a month earlier, which -authorized me to bid a temporary farewell to Faraday’s “Electrical -Researches”; and I passed another resolution rescinding my first. -But the question arose, how to carry it into effect. The answer was -obvious: bid good-by to Corrie. My friends, however, suggested a less -obvious but certainly a much more agreeable answer. “Go up and live in -the Macmillan homestead, and read your Faraday there in the morning -and come down to Corrie for dinner, late in the afternoon,” suggested -Madge, and the suggestion was adopted without a dissenting voice on the -part of my young friends.</p> - -<p>The Macmillan homestead was a very humble old cottage located half-way -between Corrie and the top of Goat Fell Mountain, the highest point on -the island of Arran. An old crofter and his wife lived there, leading -one of the most frugal existences that I had ever seen anywhere. -They were willing to furnish me with lodging and simple breakfast, -consisting of tea and oatmeal porridge with some bread covered with -a thin layer of American lard. I did not object; I was prepared to -take up low living and high thinking for the love of Michael Faraday. -Communion with Faraday from early morning until four in the afternoon, -and after that any play that came along, with plenty of dancing in the -evening, was a splendid combination. Practically one solid meal a day, -my dinner at the Corrie inn, supplied the fuel for all this activity, -and it did it satisfactorily. How could I complain? The man whose -wonderful scientific discoveries I was absorbing each day started life -as a bookbinder’s apprentice, and the founder of the great Macmillan -publishing-house was born and passed his boyhood days in the humble -cottage where I was lodging. I was sure that in their youth they -never had more than one solid meal a day and they prospered. My rapid -absorption and digestion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>217</span> of the mental food which Faraday offered I -attributed to my avoidance of superfluous physical food, but I must -confess that I was quite hungry when dinner was served at the Corrie -inn, and I enjoyed it immensely.</p> - -<p>I never understood the full meaning of low living and high thinking -as well as I did while I was a lodger at the Macmillan homestead. -My thinking machinery, I thought, never worked better, and even my -vision, always very good, seemed to be better than ever before. On -exceptionally clear days I was sure that from the high elevation of the -Macmillan cottage, on the slope of Goat Fell Mountain, I could see the -beautiful Firth of Clyde as far as Greenock and Paisley, and at times -even the gray and gloomy edifices of Glasgow seemed to loom up in the -distance. I bragged about it, but my friends at Corrie met my bragging -by informing me, jokingly, that any Scotchman can see much farther than -that. One of them, a pupil of Sir William Thomson at the University of -Glasgow, met my bragging by the epigrammatic question: “Can you see in -Faraday as far as Maxwell, the Scotchman, saw?” I never bragged again -about my vision while I was in Scotland. I was certain, however, that -from the Macmillan homestead on the slopes of Goat Fell Mountain I -obtained a deeper view into Faraday’s discoveries than I could have -obtained in any other place. I seldom mention the names of Faraday and -Maxwell without recalling to memory the beautiful island of Arran and -the humble Macmillan homestead on Goat Fell Mountain.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>218</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="viii">VIII<br /> -<span>STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Every</span> period in the history of mankind had its revelation in science. -Some periods were most fortunate in this respect. The first half of -the nineteenth century saw the great scientific revelation called the -Principle of Conservation of Energy, and considered it its greatest -glory. Our own American philosopher, Benjamin Thompson, of Woburn, -Massachusetts, known in Europe as Count Rumford, was one of several -early prophets in science who foresaw the advent of this great -dynamical doctrine. Its importance to mankind cannot be overestimated. -I am sure that many a scientific man of those days felt grateful to -heaven for the blessing of having lived during the age when that great -revelation was received by mankind. The scientific men of to-day are -grateful for having lived during the second half of the nineteenth -century, when the great electromagnetic theory was revealed to man. Its -importance, likewise, cannot be overestimated. But there is a radical -difference in the historical progress of these two nineteenth-century -revelations in science. The existence of the first was intuitively -foreseen and may be said to have existed in one form or another in -the minds of many scientific men long before it received its final -form of statement. Its formulator, Helmholtz, thought that he was not -announcing anything new, but was only stating his own view of something -that was already well known. After his announcement, in 1847, every -scientific man accepted the revelation as an almost self-evident truth. -The electromagnetic<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>219</span> theory of light and of matter had a different -history. It was born as a dim vision in the mind of a single man, -Faraday, and nearly fifty years elapsed before it was formulated by -Maxwell and experimentally demonstrated by Hertz. It was only then that -the world began to understand that a great scientific revelation had -appeared to man. To-day we know that new physical concepts requiring -a new language for their expression had to be created in the minds of -scientific men before the modern electromagnetic doctrine could be -revealed to the world. The first glimpses of that revelation I caught -on the slope of Goat Fell Mountain, and two years later I saw in Berlin -what I believed to be a clear outline of its meaning.</p> - -<p>When I look back to those days and consider how few were the physicists -who had caught this meaning even twenty years after it was stated by -Maxwell in 1865, I wonder whether it is possible to-day to convey that -meaning to people who are not trained physicists. I think it is, and I -believe that the attempt should be made, because the electromagnetic -doctrine is to-day recognized to be the very foundation of all our -knowledge of physical phenomena. I also think that one of the best -methods of conveying that meaning is to describe my early attempts -which failed to catch it.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="michael"> - <img src="images/facing220-alt-i.jpg" width="500" height="527" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><i>From a photograph by John Watkins, London</i></div> - <div class="caption">MICHAEL FARADAY</div> - <div class="caption">Reproduced from Volume II of “The Scientific Papers of James Clerk - Maxwell,” edited by W. D. Niven. By permission of the publishers, - The University Press, Cambridge</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing220-alt.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Faraday’s discoveries in the electrical science during the first half -of the nineteenth century attracted worldwide attention and admiration. -I knew that much at Arran, and I also knew of the rapid growth of the -practical applications of his discoveries, to telegraphy, to generation -of electrical power for electrical lighting, electrical traction, -and electrochemical work, and finally to telephonic transmission of -speech. The world understood that all these wonderful things, which -contributed so much to the comforts of mankind, came from those sources -in the realm of abstract science which were opened up by Faraday’s -discoveries. Scientific research<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>220</span> began to assume a different aspect -even in the eyes of the captains of industry who in those days showed -lamentable indifference to science which did not promise immediate -tangible returns. The advocates of scientific research, like Tyndall -and his American and British friends, pointed with pride to Faraday’s -work whenever a question arose concerning the practical value of -research in the domain of the so-called abstract physical sciences. -This helped very much to arouse in this country and in Great Britain -a deeper interest in what Andrew White called “strength and hope for -higher endeavor.”</p> - -<p>But Tyndall’s and Maxwell’s descriptions of Faraday and of his work -convinced me that Faraday’s exalted position among his contemporaries -like Maxwell, Henry, Tyndall, and Barnard was due not so much to the -immediate practical value of his electrical discoveries, great as -that value certainly was, as it was to the clear vision with which he -searched for and revealed new morsels of the <em>eternal truth</em>. It -was clear to me even at that time that inventions are the handwork of -mortal man and that, though at first they appeal to us, as they ought -to, as wonderful creations of human ingenuity, their ultimate fate is -to become more or less commonplace. The telegraph and the telephone, -the dynamo and the motor, the light of the electrical arc and of the -incandescent filament, had lost much of their awe-inspiring character -even at the time when I was a student at Cambridge. Inventions grow -old and are superseded by other inventions, and, being the creation -of the constructive schemes of mortal man, are themselves mortal. But -the laws which the stars and the planets obey and have always obeyed -in their paths through the heavens are unchangeable; they never grow -old, and therefore they are immortal; they are a part of the <em>eternal -truth</em>. We do not know of any natural processes by which eternal -things have been evolved. Their existence is the best philosophic -proof<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>221</span> that back of all this changeable visible world there is the -unchangeable, the eternal divinity. Archimedes, Galileo, and Newton -co-operated in the discovery of immutable laws, and thereby revealed -to mortal man morsels of the <em>eternal truth</em>. Oerstedt, a hundred -years ago, discovered a morsel of the eternal truth when he discovered -the magnetic force which is produced by the motion of electricity. -Discoveries of immortal things and of the immutable laws which direct -the mission of their immortal existence are themselves immortal. Their -discoverers are, and deserve to be, immortal. Tyndall and Maxwell were -the first to show me that Faraday occupied a distinguished place among -such immortals as Archimedes, Galileo, Newton, and Oerstedt.</p> - -<p>The closing sentence of Maxwell’s biographical sketch of Faraday, in -vol. VIII of <cite>Nature</cite>, referred to above, reads as follows:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>We are probably ignorant even of the name of the science which will -develop out of the materials we are now collecting, when the great -philosopher next after Faraday makes his appearance.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="noi">To me these prophetic words indicated that Maxwell had -something in his mind which was not explicitly expressed in Faraday’s -discoveries, but which enabled Maxwell to speak like a prophet. The -words of a prophet are not always easy to understand. I discovered -later that, when the world with the aid of the Hertzian experiments -had caught Maxwell’s meaning, then a new and wonderful epoch in the -history of the physical sciences was inaugurated. Its end is not yet in -sight. This inauguration I witnessed during my student days in Berlin. -It is, I believe, of considerable interest to record here how the -scientific world, as I saw it at that time, appeared to be preparing to -receive the great revelation which was delivered to it on that historic -inauguration day in 1887.</p> - -<p>My communion with Faraday on the island of Arran<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>222</span> began my own -preparation for this inauguration day by developing gradually in my -mind new physical concepts, which I discovered later to be fundamental -physical concepts in the modern views of physics. Long before I -had finished my reading of Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in -Electricity,” I began to understand why Tyndall, referring to them, -said: “Read them; their story is just as new and as stirring to-day as -it was when these volumes were first printed. They will help you much -to interpret Maxwell.” The same statement is true to-day, and therefore -I proceed now, with much trepidation, to tell a part at least of that -story as briefly as I can, in order to describe, even if it be quite -inadequately, Faraday’s relation to the present great epoch of modern -physics, the epoch of the electromagnetic view not only of <em>light</em> -but also of <em>matter</em>.</p> - -<p>The gradual development of this view was due to the gradual development -of new physical concepts which were born in Faraday’s mind and existed -there as a poetical vision; but in Maxwell’s mind they appeared as -physical quantities having definite quantitative relations to other -well-known physical quantities, which a physicist can measure in his -laboratory. In every creative physicist there is hidden a metaphysicist -and a poet; but the physicist is less apt to persist in his occasional -errors as metaphysicist and poet, because the creations of his -speculative mind and of his poetical vision can be subjected to crucial -experimental tests.</p> - -<p>Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in Electricity,” published in three -thick volumes, looked like very long reading. But my studies at Arran -soon convinced me that no reading is long which continually stirs up -the interest of the eager reader. Faraday was a pioneer in science, and -the descriptions of his explorations read like tales from a new world -of physical phenomena, full of poetical visions which his discoveries -suggested to his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>223</span> imagination. It must be said, however, that in spite -of his wonderful imagination and his free use of it, no investigator -ever succeeded better than Faraday in drawing a sharp line of division -between the new facts and principles which he had discovered and the -visions which his imagination saw in the still unexplored background of -his discoveries. For instance, his discovery that a perfectly definite -and invariable quantity of electricity is, as we express it to-day, -attached to every valency of an atom and molecule, expresses a physical -law which his experiments revealed and which he illuminated with all -the light of his brilliant intellect. But when this new and precious -morsel of the eternal truth had been disclosed by his experiments, then -Faraday the scientist stepped aside, and Faraday the poet disclosed his -visions about the constitution of matter suggested by what I called at -Arran the atomic distribution of electricity in material bodies.</p> - -<p>A man who discovers one of the most remarkable facts in modern science, -namely, that in every atom and molecule there are definite and equal -quantities of positive and negative electricity, and that the forces -between these electricities are by far the largest known forces which -keep together the components of chemical structures, cannot, if he has -the imagination of a discoverer, refrain from asking the question: -“What is matter?” The reader of Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in -Electricity” rejoices whenever Faraday, the poet and prophet, asks an -apparently speculative question of this kind, because he knows that he -will be thrilled by the poetical fancy which dictates Faraday’s answer. -Faraday’s new facts and principles revealed by experiment are steeped -in the honey of his fancy; they are rich food made delicious by the -flavor of his poetical imagination, even when that flavor leaves the -ordinary mortal guessing as to its exact meaning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>224</span> -Two other questions Faraday often approached in these researches; they -may be stated as follows: What is electricity? and, What is magnetism? -He discovered that motion of magnetism produces electrical forces in -a manner similar to that in which, according to Oerstedt’s discovery, -motion of electricity produces magnetic forces. This remarkable -reciprocal relation between electricity and magnetism stirs up the -imagination, and makes it eager to look behind the curtain which -separates the region of the revealed truth from that which is still -unrevealed. It was undoubtedly this eagerness of the explorer which -encouraged Faraday to approach the questions, What is electricity? -and, What is magnetism? Faraday never gave a final answer to these -questions, but his magnificent efforts to find this answer gave birth -to new ideas which are the foundation of our modern electromagnetic -view of physical forces. One of the great pleasures of my life has been -the contemplation of the gradual unfolding of this new view; and if in -the course of this simple narrative I succeed in describing some of its -beauties, I shall consider that this narrative was not written in vain.</p> - -<p>Since, as explicitly stated by Faraday, electricity and magnetism are -known by the forces, only, which they exert, it was plain to him, -as his books, “Experimental Researches in Electricity,” testify, -that the first question which must be answered was the question: -How are the forces between electrical charges and between magnetic -charges transmitted through the intervening space—the same way as -gravitational forces, or are they transmitted in a different way? In -his unceasing efforts to answer this question Faraday made a radical -and fundamental departure from the view of the natural philosophers -of his time. He stood alone and devoted a very large part of his -experimental work and of his philosophical thought to the justification -of his position. He stood alone for a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>225</span> very long time, because he was -formulating a radically new physical concept which the world knows -now to be one of the most fundamental concepts of the electromagnetic -science of to-day; and it was difficult for his contemporaries and for -his students of forty years ago, including myself, to understand him. -In an address on Faraday by Helmholtz, which I read during my student -days in Berlin, the following sentence refers to Faraday’s difficulty -just mentioned:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>It is generally very difficult to define by a general statement a new -abstraction, so that no misunderstandings of any kind can arise. The -originator of a new concept of that kind finds, as a rule, that it is -much more difficult to find out why other people do not understand -him than it was to discover the new truths.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>It was very consoling to me to find out in Berlin from no less an -authority than Helmholtz that I was not the only poor mortal who was -guessing in vain about the exact meaning of Faraday’s visions.</p> - -<p>Newton’s law of gravitation enables the astronomers to calculate -accurately from a simple mathematical formula the motion of celestial -bodies, without any assumption concerning the mechanism by which -gravitational force is transmitted from one body to another body at a -distance, say, from the sun to the earth. Newton’s formula says nothing -about the time of transmission. The action can be assumed to be direct -action at a distance and therefore instantaneous. Experience seemed to -indicate that this assumption is correct, because no detectable errors -are committed when one assumes that gravitational force travels with -infinite velocity. Faraday refused to accept this belief in direct -action at a distance for electric and magnetic forces. A few words, -only, will suffice to describe how Faraday attempted to eliminate the -belief in this direct action at a distance for electrical and magnetic -forces. These attempts will always<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>226</span> be recorded in history as the first -steps in the development of the modern electromagnetic science.</p> - -<p>Faraday, starting from points in the electrical and in the magnetic -charges, drew numerous curves which indicated at every point in space -the direction of the electric or of the magnetic force, and in that -manner the whole space surrounding the charges he divided geometrically -into <em>tubular filaments which he called the lines of force</em>. -Every one of these filaments was constructed in accordance with a -simple rule, so that it indicated at every point in space not only the -direction but also the intensity of the force. A specific example, -often employed by me at Arran, will illustrate this. A conducting -sphere, say of copper or brass, is charged with positive or with -negative electricity. When that charge is in equilibrium it is, as was -well known, all on the surface of the sphere and uniformly distributed. -Its force of attraction or repulsion, for electrical charges in the -space outside of the sphere, is obviously along radii drawn from -the centre of the sphere. These radii, drawn in every direction and -sufficiently numerous, envelop little cones the vertices of which are -at the centre of the sphere. Adjust the size of the cones in such a -way that the area of the section of every one of them with the sphere -is the same, and make their total number proportional to the charge on -the sphere. These little cones are then in this particular case the -Faraday lines of force, because their direction gives the direction of -the electrical force, and their number per unit area of the surface -of any concentric sphere is proportional to the electrical force at -any point of the surface of this concentric sphere. According to this -picture there are attached to each little element of the total charge -a definite number of these conical filaments or lines of force, and -each element of the charge on the sphere is nothing more than the -terminal of these filaments. When the charge on the sphere is increased -or diminished<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>227</span> the number of these filaments is also increased or -diminished proportionately, and therefore they are more densely or less -densely packed in the space which they occupy.</p> - -<p>Should the charge on the sphere be set in motion, then the filaments -or lines of force attached to it would also move. Thus far I followed -Faraday, but went no farther; if I had gone just a little farther -I should have met Maxwell. But, unfortunately for me, this simple -picture which I constructed, in order to aid my understanding of -Faraday’s “Experimental Researches in Electricity” over which I -pondered at Arran, suggested nothing more than a mere geometrical -representation of the electrical force which the charged sphere exerts -at any point in space. It conveyed no additional information which a -simple mathematical formula, well-known at that time, did not convey. -Additional information, however, was added by Faraday’s imagination, -which introduced here what I and many other mortals at that time -considered a strange hypothesis. He described the hypothesis at great -length in his books, and here is a brief statement of it:</p> - -<p>Faraday claimed that all electrical and magnetic actions are -transmitted from point to point along his lines of force; and, impelled -by a remarkable intuition, he insisted that his lines of force are not -mere geometrical pictures but that they had a real physical existence, -and that there was something like muscular tension along these lines -of force tending to contract them, and a pressure perpendicular to -them tending to expand them; and that these tensions and pressures -give the same numerical value for the mechanical force between the -charges as that calculated from Coulomb’s law, but with the fundamental -difference, which Faraday pointed out, that his hypothesis demands a -definite finite time for the transmission of electrical and magnetic -forces; whereas according<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>228</span> to the hypothesis of direct action at a -distance, which Coulomb’s law neither favors nor opposes, these forces -are transmitted instantaneously. The question of the velocity of -transmission of electrical and of magnetic forces through space became, -therefore, a crucial question in the decision between the old view and -Faraday’s view.</p> - -<p>In a letter addressed to Maxwell in 1857, and quoted by Campbell, -Faraday said:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>I hope this summer to make some experiments on the time of magnetic -action ... that may help the subject on. The time must probably be -short as the time of light; but the greatness of the result, if -affirmative, makes me not despair. Perhaps I had better have said -nothing about it, for I am often long in realizing my intentions, and -a failing memory is against me.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="noi">This letter was written ten years before Faraday’s death, and -nothing was ever reported about the result of the experiment planned -by him. We know, however, that the result which he expected from -the experiment was obtained thirty years later by Hertz, a pupil of -Helmholtz.</p> - -<p>I imagined at Arran that I could hear Faraday say:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Where the lines of magnetic force are there is magnetism, and where -the lines of electric force are there is electricity.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="noi">Faraday’s answer to the questions, “What is electricity?” and, -“What is magnetism?” was, therefore, according to my understanding at -that time, that they were manifestations of force; and where these -manifestations exist there is electricity and there is magnetism, in -the sense that there are pressures and tensions which are the result -of a certain state of the space which may be called the electrical or -the magnetic state. Faraday’s visions, as I found them nearly forty -years ago, disclosed in his “Experimental Researches in Electricity,” -went even so<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>229</span> far as to suggest that matter itself consists of centres -of force with lines of force proceeding from these centres in every -direction to infinite distances, and where these lines are there is -the body; in other words, every material body, like every electrical -and every magnetic charge, extends to infinity by means of its lines -of force; and hence all material bodies are in contact, explicitly -denying the existence of ether. No mortal man ever suggested a bolder -conception! And yet to-day we know that a conception regarding the -structure of matter very similar to that first conceived by Faraday is -rapidly gaining universal recognition, not merely as a new metaphysical -speculation but as the logical and inexorable demand of experiment. But -when Faraday told me all these strange things as I listened attentively -on the slope of Goat Fell Mountain at Arran, I could not see anything -in them except geometrical pictures and a lot of what appeared to -me like pure metaphysics in the background of simple geometrical -structures. Although I was sure that Faraday’s metaphysics had some -definite physics back of it, I was unable to disentangle it from the -hypothetical notions which I did not understand clearly. Maxwell, I -thought, must have disentangled that physics, and I often thought of -my Scotch friend at Arran who asked me the question: “Can you see in -Faraday as far as Maxwell, the Scotchman, saw?”</p> - -<p>When I came to Berlin my head was full of Faraday’s lines of force -starting at electrical and magnetic charges and winding in all sorts of -shapes through space, like stream lines which start from the sources -of a river and follow it in its flow toward the ocean. The physical -facts and principles which Faraday discovered stood out sharply defined -like the bright stars in the firmament of a clear and quiescent summer -night; but the conception of the new view of attracting and repelling -electric and magnetic forces, which he represented graphically by his -lines<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>230</span> of force, endowed with strange physical powers residing in -pressures and tensions, left in my mind impressions which made me feel -that my faith in the new doctrine was not very strong. Faith without -conviction is a house built upon sand. Helmholtz said once:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>I know too well how often I sat staring hopelessly at his -descriptions of the lines of force, their number and their tensions.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="noi">Little I thought during my journey from Arran to Berlin in -October, 1885, that two years later all the nebulous notions in my -perplexed mind would lift like the mist before the early rays of a -sunny autumn morning. I continued my studies of Faraday during my first -year in Berlin, reserving for that purpose the necessary time for -extra reading. What did the physicists of Berlin think, I wondered, of -Faraday’s tubes or lines of force?</p> - -<p>I went to Berlin to study experimental physics with Hermann von -Helmholtz, the famous professor of physics at the University of Berlin, -the formulator of the principle of conservation of energy, and the -first interpreter of the meaning of color both in vision and in music -and speech. He was then the director of the Physical Institute of the -university. His title, conferred upon him by the old Emperor, was -Excellenz, and the whole teaching staff of the institute stood in awe -when the name of Excellenz was mentioned. The whole scientific world -of Germany, nay, the whole intellectual world of Germany, stood in -awe when the name of Excellenz von Helmholtz was pronounced. Next to -Bismarck and the old Emperor he was at that time the most illustrious -man in the German Empire.</p> - -<p>I had letters of introduction to him from President Barnard of -Columbia College, and also from Professor John Tyndall of the Royal -Institution. Professor Arthur Koenig, the right-hand man of Helmholtz -and the senior instructor in the Physical Institute, took me to the -office<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>231</span> of Excellenz von Helmholtz and introduced me as Herr Pupin, a -student from America, and the proposed John Tyndall fellow of physics -of Columbia College. I was awarded the fellowship three months later. -Koenig bowed before his master as if he wished to touch the ground with -his forehead. I bowed American fashion, that is, with a bow of the head -which did not extend below my shoulders, the same kind of bow which was -practised at the University of Cambridge at that time, and I called -it the Anglo-Saxon bow; it was entirely different from Koenig’s bow. -Helmholtz seemed to notice the difference and he smiled a benevolent -smile; the contrast evidently amused him. He had much Anglo-Saxon blood -in his veins; his mother was a lineal descendant of William Penn. It -was understood in Berlin that he was the most “hoffähig” (presentable -at court) scientist in the German Empire.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="herman"> - <img src="images/facing232-i.jpg" width="500" height="665" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">HERMAN VON HELMHOLTZ</div> - <div class="caption">From a painting by L. Knaus</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing232.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>He received me kindly and showed deep interest in my proposed plan -of study. His appearance was most striking; he was then sixty-four -years of age, but looked older. The deep furrows in his face and the -projecting veins on the sides and across his towering brow gave him the -appearance of a deep introspective thinker, whereas his protruding, -scrutinizing eyes marked him a man anxious to penetrate the secrets -of nature’s hidden mysteries. The size of his head was enormous, and -the muscular neck and huge thorax seemed to form a suitable foundation -for such an intellectual dome. His hands and feet were small and -beautifully shaped, and his mouth gave evidence of a sweet and gentle -disposition. He spoke in the sweetest of accents, and little, but his -questions were direct and to the point. When I told him that I never -had an opportunity to work in a physical laboratory and had paid -exclusive attention to mathematical physics, he smiled and suggested -that I should make up this deficiency as soon as possible. “A few -experiments<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>232</span> successfully carried out usually lead to results more -important than all mathematical theories,” he assured me. He then -requested Professor Koenig to map out for me a suitable course in the -laboratory and to look after me. Koenig did it, and I shall always -be grateful to the sadly deformed and extremely kind little man with -bushy red hair and distressingly defective eyesight, which he tried -to correct with the aid of enormous spectacles employing lenses of -extraordinary thickness. Helmholtz was always mellow-hearted to little -Koenig, partly because, I think, Koenig reminded him of his own son -Robert, who was deformed in hand and foot and back, but had the -magnificently shaped head of his distinguished father.</p> - -<p>During my first year’s study in Berlin I attended Helmholtz’s lectures -on experimental physics. They were most inspiring, not so much on -account of the many beautiful experiments which were shown, as on -account of the wonderfully suggestive remarks which Helmholtz would -drop every now and then under the inspiration of the moment. Helmholtz -threw the search-light of his giant intellect upon the meaning of -the experiments, and they blazed up like the brilliant colors of a -flower garden when a beam of sunlight breaks through the clouds, and -tears up the dark shadows which cover the landscape on a cloudy summer -day. These lectures were attended not only by students in physics, -mathematics, and chemistry, but also by medical students and army -officers. The official world, and particularly the army and navy, paid -close attention to what Excellenz von Helmholtz had to say; and I had -much reason to believe that they consulted his scientific opinions -at every step. I have often been called upon to correct the opinion -that Helmholtz was a pure scientist par excellence. There is no doubt -that his great work dealt principally with fundamental problems in -scientific theory and in philosophy; but there is also no doubt that, -like many other German scientists, he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>233</span> was much interested in the -application of science to the solution of problems which would advance -the industries of Germany. His earliest career is associated with his -invention of the ophthalmoscope. The optical glass industry of Germany -was being developed by some of his former students, who led the world -in geometrical optics, a part of physics to which Helmholtz devoted -much attention in his younger days.</p> - -<p>One day I was on my way to the institute; in front of me walked a tall -German army officer, smoking a big cigar. When we reached the entrance -of the institute the officer stopped and read a sign which said: -“Smoking is strictly forbidden in the institute building.” He threw -his cigar away and walked in. I recognized Crown Prince Frederick in -the officer. Two years later he became Emperor of Germany and ruled -for ninety days. I watched his footsteps and saw that he entered -Helmholtz’s office and stayed there over an hour. He undoubtedly -consulted the great scientist on some scientific problem which was then -interesting the German army and navy.</p> - -<p>Helmholtz’s personality was overpowering and seemed to compel one’s -interest in problems in which he was interested, and at that time -his principal interest was outside of the electromagnetic theory. -Nevertheless, I kept up my interest in Faraday, which interest I -brought with me from Arran; but I found no opportunity to ascertain -Helmholtz’s opinion concerning Faraday. Finally the opportunity came -toward the end of my first year at the University of Berlin.</p> - -<p>Gustav Robert Kirchhoff, the famous discoverer, formulator, and -interpreter of the science of spectrum analysis, and the founder of -the theory of radiation, was at that time professor of mathematical -physics at the university. He was considered the leading mathematical -physicist of Germany. His contributions to the electrical theory -occupied a very high place. The most important<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>234</span> of these was -undoubtedly his theory of transmission of telegraphic signals over -a thin wire conductor stretched on insulated poles, high above the -ground. It was a magnificent mathematical analysis of the problem, -and it showed for the first time that theoretically the velocity of -propagation of these signals along the wire is equal to the velocity -of light. The university catalogue announced that he was to deliver a -course of lectures on theoretical electricity during the first term -of my residence at the university. I attended the course and waited -and waited, but waited in vain to hear Kirchhoff’s interpretation of -Faraday and Maxwell. At the close of the semester the course ended -and the electromagnetic theory of Faraday and Maxwell was referred to -on two pages only, out of two hundred; and the part so honored was -not, even according to my opinion at that time, the essential part -of the theory. In this respect the lectures were disappointing, but -nevertheless I was most amply rewarded for my pains. I never heard -a more elegant mathematical analysis of the old-school electrical -problems than that which Kirchhoff developed before his admiring -classes. That was the last course of lectures which he delivered; he -died in the following year, and was succeeded by Helmholtz as temporary -lecturer on mathematical physics.</p> - -<p>Helmholtz was rather reserved and could not easily be approached by -his students, unless they had some physical problem or a question -which was unquestionably worthy of his attention. I made up my mind -to ask him, when suitable opportunity presented itself, why Kirchhoff -in his lectures paid so little attention to Faraday and Maxwell. It -was a very significant sign of those days and I did not understand -its meaning. Professor Koenig threw up his hands in holy horror when -I informed him of my intention, and prophesied that all kinds of dire -consequences would result from my daring proposition;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>235</span> pointing out -that such a question would betray a lack of respect on my part both -for Kirchhoff and for Helmholtz. Koenig himself could not answer my -question except to say that he did not see why the German school of -physics should worry much about the English school, particularly when -there was a radical difference between the two in the realm of the -theory of electromagnetic phenomena. I admitted that if Kirchhoff was -the spokesman of the German school then there was a radical difference, -intimating however, in the mildest possible way that, in my humble -opinion, the difference counted in favor of the English school. I -really did not know enough to express that opinion, but I did it -under provocation. Koenig flushed up and there would have been quite -a lively verbal contest if Helmholtz had not entered my room at that -very moment, like a <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">deus ex machina</i>. He was making his customary -round of visits to the rooms of his research students, in order to -find out how their work was moving along. Both Koenig and I looked -somewhat perplexed, betraying the fact that we had been engaged in a -heated argument, and Helmholtz noticed it. We confessed that we had had -a lively discussion; when he learned the subject of our discussion he -smiled and referred us both to an address which he had delivered before -the Chemical Society of London, five years before. It is entitled, -“Recent Developments in Faraday’s Ideas Concerning Electricity.” -The same day saw me with two volumes of Helmholtz’s addresses in my -hands analyzing his Faraday address. I felt as I went on with this -study as if the heavy mist were lifting which had prevented me from -seeing a clear view of Faraday’s and Maxwell’s ideas. Tyndall’s fame -for clearing up obscure points in physical science was deservedly -great, but when I compared Helmholtz’s interpretation of Faraday and -Maxwell with that which Tyndall gave me in his book entitled “Faraday -as Discoverer,” I marvelled at Helmholtz’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>236</span> superiority. It must also -be remembered that Tyndall was for many years in almost daily contact -with Faraday; and, as I pointed out before, he must also have had close -personal relations with Maxwell during the period of 1860–1865. To me -it seemed a miracle that Helmholtz, a German, saw so much more clearly -what was in the minds of two great English philosophers, although -he never had met them personally, than did another great English -physicist, Tyndall, who knew Faraday and Maxwell personally, and one -of them at least intimately. In the article in <cite>Nature</cite>, to which -Tyndall first referred me and which Maxwell had written, will be found -the following closing paragraph:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Helmholtz is now in Berlin, directing the labors of able men of -science in his splendid laboratory. Let us hope that from his present -position he will again take a comprehensive view of the waves and -ripples of our intellectual progress, and give us from time to time -his idea of the meaning of it all.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Helmholtz’s address on Faraday was one of those comprehensive views -of which Maxwell spoke in 1874. Now what did Helmholtz see in Faraday -and Maxwell which other physicists, like Tyndall, and even so famous a -mathematical physicist as Kirchhoff, failed to see? It was, I thought -after a careful study of Helmholtz’s address, the simplest thing in the -world, particularly for one who, like myself, had been wrestling with -Faraday’s lines of force, and with the hypothetical powers with which -Faraday had endowed them. So simple, indeed, that I venture to describe -it here. But in order to make the description as brief and as simple as -possible I must go back again to the charged spherical conductor which -always rendered good service in those days when I was trying to solve -the riddle of Faraday’s new physical concepts.</p> - -<p>By means of an electrical force generated by an electrical machine we -can increase or diminish the charge on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>237</span> the surface of the conducting -sphere. Now, the charge on the sphere increases or diminishes because -the electrical force generated by the machine drives through a suitable -conducting wire additional electrical charge to the sphere, or takes -it away from it. This motion of the electrical charge through the -conducting wire to or from the sphere is the electrical current. Here -comes now the historic question: Does the electrical current stop at -the surface of the charged sphere? The old electrical theories said -“Yes,” but Maxwell, interpreting the ideas of Faraday, said, “No.” -Helmholtz was the first to tell me that clearly and distinctly, and I -understood him.</p> - -<p>Since, according to Faraday, each particle of the charge on the sphere -carries attached to it a definite number of filaments or lines of -force, it is obvious that the rate at which the charge on the sphere -increases is, as I described above, the same as the rate at which the -number of these lines of force are crowded into the space surrounding -the sphere. Motion of the charge to the surface of the sphere is -accompanied by a motion of the Faraday lines of force through every -surface which surrounds the charged sphere. Since, according to -Faraday, electricity is everywhere where the lines of force are, it -follows that the motion of the lines through any surface means motion -of electricity (in the sense in which I use this word) through that -surface. Maxwell said, according to my understanding of Helmholtz, -that motion of electricity, as represented by the motion of Faraday’s -lines of force, is an electrical current just as much as the motion of -electrical charges is. Electrical charges are terminals, only, of the -lines of force; and why should the motion of the terminals be endowed -with a power which is denied to the remaining parts of the lines of -force? The principal power is, according to Oerstedt’s discovery, the -generation of magnetism; that is, magnetic lines of force. According -to Maxwell, then, the electrical current (that is, the motion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>238</span> of -electrical charges through conductors) does not stop at the surface -of the conductor, but continues in the non-conducting space beyond as -motion of Faraday’s lines of force, as <em>motion of electricity</em>. -The extension of the meaning of the word electrical current, just -described, was, according to Helmholtz, the cardinal difference between -the old electrical theories and the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic -theory, and Helmholtz declared in favor of the last. I applauded -Helmholtz and took off my hat to his clear vision of things which other -people, including myself, failed to see. But can any one blame ordinary -mortals, who were always accustomed to look upon the electrical current -as motion of electrical charges in conductors, when they failed to -see that the electrical current can take place even in a vacuum where -there are no electrical charges at all, and therefore no motion of -them? That was the physical concept which found its way so slowly into -minds polarized by preconceived notions even after Helmholtz’s lucid -explanation. This is substantially all there is in the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory as I gathered it directly from the Helmholtz -address. But there is another very important element which I ought to -describe here.</p> - -<p>A corollary of Maxwell’s extension of the meaning of electrical -current, which Helmholtz did not mention explicitly but which I soon -found in Maxwell, is this: Electrical charges move because a force acts -upon them; similarly the number of Faraday’s lines of force, passing -through any surface in space, increases or diminishes because there -is a force acting upon them. Wherever there is an action there is an -equal and opposite reaction, according to the most fundamental law of -Newton’s dynamics. Hence space, including the vacuum, must react when -Faraday’s lines of force (that is, when the electricity represented by -them) move through it. But if this reaction really exists in space, how -can it be expressed? Faraday<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>239</span> and Maxwell devoted much thought and many -experimental investigations in search for a definite answer to this -question, and they found it.</p> - -<p>Faraday showed by experiment that if the charged sphere is immersed -in an insulating fluid, say an insulating mineral oil, or in a solid -insulator like rubber, or even if a piece of an insulator is brought -near it, then the reacting force for a given charge on the sphere is -smaller than when the sphere is surrounded by a vacuum; or, in other -words, liquid and solid insulators are more <em>permeable</em> to the -electrical lines of force (that is, to electricity) than a vacuum is. -Therefore, an electrical force which is acting in order to increase -the charge on the sphere and, as a result, increase the number of -lines of force through the surrounding space, will experience the less -reaction the more permeable the surrounding medium is. The reaction -of an insulator against the action of an electrical force appears -therefore as a reaction against the passage of electricity, that is, of -electrical lines of force, through it. That picture of the process has -stayed with me ever since my Berlin days.</p> - -<p>The same line of reasoning which I followed above, regarding electrical -lines of force, leads to similar results with regard to the magnetic -lines of force. The reaction of the medium against an increase of the -electrical and of the magnetic lines of force through it was the second -new physical concept introduced into the electrical science by Faraday -and Maxwell.</p> - -<p>The Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory extended the well-known -electrical and magnetic actions and reactions from conductors to -non-conductors, including the vacuum. If this theory is correct, then -electromagnetic disturbances will be propagated from their source to -all parts of space, and not along conductors only, by definite waves -travelling at a definite velocity.</p> - -<p>Maxwell’s calculation showed that electromagnetic<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>240</span> disturbances -are propagated through insulators in the same manner as light is -propagated, and that, therefore, <em>light is in all probability an -electromagnetic disturbance</em>. This is the substance of Maxwell’s -electromagnetic theory of light; it is his answer to the question: -“What is Light?”</p> - -<p>That, broadly stated, was the information which Helmholtz first -conveyed to me in terms which I understood clearly; and for this -service I have always been profoundly grateful to him. He showed me -that the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory was incomparably -simpler than I thought it to be, and also much more beautiful. I do not -believe that in 1881 there was another physicist in continental Europe -who could have given me that information, and perhaps not even in 1886, -when I first read that wonderful address. My friend Niven in Cambridge, -editor of the second edition of Maxwell’s great mathematical treatise, -never volunteered to tell me how Maxwell answered the question: “What -is Light?” Neither did Tyndall. I do not know whether Rayleigh or -Stokes or anybody else in Cambridge when I was there could have done it -as well as Helmholtz did. I shall describe later an historical event -which indicates that they probably could not.</p> - -<p>Toward the end of that semester I felt certain that I understood -Helmholtz’s interpretation of Faraday, and of Maxwell’s answer to the -question: “What is Light?” I then managed to have another discussion -with Professor Koenig. He listened most attentively to my description -of the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory as I had gathered it -from Helmholtz; and it was, as far as I can recall it now, very -similar to the description given above. This was my first lecture at -the University of Berlin, delivered to a very intelligent audience of -one person, dear little Doctor Koenig. It would have been a signal -success if I had not closed it with a tactless remark, to the effect -that Helmholtz, in his Faraday address,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>241</span> rejected every one of the -four German electrical theories, and declared himself in favor of -Faraday and Maxwell. Helmholtz intimated, and unfortunately I did not -hesitate to say so to Doctor Koenig, that physicists of continental -Europe had not accepted the English theory because it was above their -heads. Finally I said that all this explained most satisfactorily why -Kirchhoff paid so little attention to Faraday and Maxwell. Koenig -looked at his watch, and, as if suddenly remembering an important -engagement, he turned on his heels and left without his customary bow -and greeting. His national pride was evidently wounded. I regretted -it deeply. I did my best to make up with him and succeeded finally, -by admitting unreservedly that, after all, the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory rested upon several bold assumptions which had -not yet been verified by experiment. The German electrical theories -also rested upon unverified assumptions, but I said nothing about that -for fear of endangering the re-established <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entente cordiale</i> -between Doctor Koenig and myself.</p> - -<p>Excellenz von Helmholtz had left Berlin for his summer vacation; among -my German fellow students at the Physical Institute there was not much -interest in Faraday and Maxwell. I do not know how difficult it is to -conceal a deep secret, because I never had one to conceal; but I do -know how hard it is to keep imprisoned in one’s heart the joy which one -feels when the light of new knowledge rises above one’s mental horizon. -I had planned to visit my mother during that summer; I had not seen -her for nearly two years. Perhaps, I thought, I might find somebody -in my native Banat to whom I could disclose the joy which I received -from the revelation which came to me through Helmholtz. Kos, my teacher -of fifteen years before in Panchevo, was no longer among the living; -in fact, that school was no longer in existence, the Hungarian régime -having replaced it by a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>242</span> Hungarian school. I would have liked nothing -better than to tell him how Maxwell answered the question: “What is -Light?”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the beginning of August of that summer I was in Idvor again, -carrying with me the two volumes of Helmholtz’s addresses. My mother -received me with a heart which she described as overflowing with -blessings which my visit and the visit of God’s grace upon Idvor -was pouring into it. The golden harvest was all in, and it was the -richest that Idvor had seen for many a year; the grapes in the old -vineyards were beginning to ripen, and the peach-trees among the rows -of vines in the vineyards were heavily loaded with the juicy fruit of -ambrosial flavor; the melons in the endless melon patches looked big -and flourishing, and suggested that at any moment they might burst with -the fulness of their exuberant prosperity. The dark-green corn-fields -seemed to groan under the heavy load of the young ears of corn, and -the pasturelands alongside of the corn-fields were alive with flocks -of sheep, carrying udders which reminded one of the abundance of milk, -cream, and cheese such as Idvor had seldom seen. All these things my -mother pointed out to me, and she assured me that by the grace of -God she was enabled to be a bountiful hostess to me, because she had -everything in great abundance which she knew I always liked. Melons, -cooled at the bottom of a deep well; grapes and peaches picked before -sunrise and covered up with vine-leaves to keep them cool and fresh; -young corn picked late in the afternoon and roasted in the evening in -front of a wood fire; cream from sheep’s milk supplied by the blessed -sheep the day before. All these were sweet and delicious things; but -have you ever tasted them when their sweetness is flavored by the love -of an indulgent mother? If you have not, then you do not know what -sweetness is. I warned my mother that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>243</span> her hospitality might transform -me, as three years before, into a pampered pet who would be too slow -to return to Berlin. Reminding me of the story which she had told me -two years before, describing my climb up the steep and slippery roof -of Bukovala’s mill in search of a star, she said: “You have done much -climbing during the last two years, and I know that in your climbing -you have found several real stars from heaven. One of them is now in -Berlin and no sweets in Idvor will keep you away from it.” She guessed -right, undoubtedly because she observed with what joy I kept up, during -that vacation, my reading of Helmholtz’s addresses.</p> - -<p>Many a night during that summer I spent in my mother’s vineyard -sleeping on sheepskins under the open sky and looking at the stars at -which I looked fifteen years before, when I helped the herdsman to -guard the village oxen during the starlit summer nights. I remembered -the puzzles which I tried to solve at that time concerning the nature -of sound and of light, succeeding in the case of sound and failing -in the case of light. I rejoiced at the feeling that I had finally -succeeded in finding from Faraday and Maxwell through Helmholtz that -sound and light resembled each other, one being a vibration of matter, -and the other a vibration of electricity. The fact that I did not -know what electricity is did not disturb me, because I did not know -what matter is. Nobody knows the exact nature of these even to-day, -except, as Faraday suggested, that they are manifestations of force. -David’s nineteenth Psalm, which I recited so often fifteen years before -during my training in herdsmanship, conveyed a different meaning, and -so did Lyermontoff’s line which says that “star speaketh to star.” -They certainly spoke to me during those glorious August nights, when, -covered with sheepskins, I lay in my mother’s vineyard and amid the -deep silence of slumbering earth I listened to their heavenly tales. -The more<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>244</span> I listened the more I became reconciled to the idea that -the language of the stars reaches me in the same way that human -language does, when it speeds on over the telephone wire, conveyed by -vibratory electric and magnetic forces; except that in the transmission -of the telephonic message the vibratory forces glide along the -conducting wire, whereas the stars pour out their waves of vibratory -electromagnetic forces in ever-expanding spheres so that they may -carry the heavenly message to every other star and to everything that -lives, and to everything that has a being. I could not help telling my -mother of my new knowledge which persuaded me that light is a vibration -of electricity, very much like the vibration of the melodious string -described in the Serbian figure of speech, familiar to her, which says:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>My heart quivers like the melodious string under the guslar’s bow.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>She always was the most attentive audience that I ever had, and the -most responsive. Her wonderful memory, even at that time when she -was seventy years of age, assigned to every essential event of her -experience a suitable place, so that it became a vital chord in -the symphony of her life. She never heard anything worth hearing -without responding with one of these harmonious chords, and this was -particularly true when I was speaking to her. On this particular -occasion, referring to my new knowledge which I brought to Idvor from -Berlin, she reminded me of my new knowledge about lightning which I had -acquired from my teacher Kos, in Panchevo, some fifteen years before, -and afterward tried to explain it to my father and his peasant friends, -who accused me of heresy; and she recalled her defense of me. She -suggested, jokingly, that if my father and his old friends had still -been living they would perhaps accuse me again of heresy on account of -some old legends which clashed with my new knowledge; and she assured -me that she<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>245</span> would defend me again. “God sends sunlight,” she said, -“to melt the ice and snow of the early spring, and to resurrect from -death everything that lay lifeless in the cold grave of the bosom of -mother earth, chilled by the icy breath of winter. The same sunlight,” -she continued, “awakens the fields, the meadows, and the pasturelands, -and bids them raise the daily bread of man and beast; it also ripens -the honey-hearted fruit in orchards and vineyards. If that is all done -by the same heavenly force which hurls the lightning across the sombre -summer clouds pregnant with showers, and also carries, as you say, the -humble human voice over the wires between distant peoples, then I see -in it a new proof of God’s infinite wisdom which uses one means only -to do great things as well as small. Ko che ko Bog! Who can fathom the -power of God!” I reminded her of her saying which she often addressed -to me when I was a boy and which I quoted before, namely: “Knowledge is -the golden ladder over which we climb to heaven,” and asked her whether -she included in this the knowledge which I was describing to her.</p> - -<p>“I include every knowledge,” she said, “which brings me nearer to -God; and this new knowledge certainly does. Just think of it, my son: -God has been sending his messages from star to star and, according -to David, from the stars to man, ever since the creation of Adam, -employing the very same method and means which man, imitating the -divine method, is beginning to use when he employs electricity to -carry his message to a distant friend. Your teachers who gave you that -knowledge are as wise as the prophets and as holy as the holiest saints -in heaven.”</p> - -<p>When I told her of Faraday’s vision, that all things extend to and -exist in every spot of the universe at the same time and that, -therefore, all things are in perpetual contact with each other, every -star feeling, so to speak,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>246</span> the heart-beat of every other star and of -every living thing, even of the tiniest little worm in the earth, she -answered:</p> - -<p>“Faraday’s science is that part of my religion which is described in -the words addressed to God by King David:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“‘Whither shall I go from thy spirit? Or whither shall I flee from -thy presence?</p> - -<p>“‘If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in -hell, behold, thou art there.’</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="noi">God is everywhere, and where he is, there is every part of his -creation.” Her religion taught her how to catch the spirit of science, -and I was always certain that science can teach us how to catch the -spirit of her religion.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>247</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="ix">IX<br /> -<span>END OF STUDIES AT THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">I confess</span> that when I first arrived in Berlin I brought with me old -prejudices, which were annoying, to say the least. The Teutonism in -Prague, when I was a schoolboy there, had made lasting impressions -upon my young mind; they were with me when I landed at Castle Garden. -Early impressions are very persistent and cannot be obliterated by -time alone. Christian’s father, the innkeeper of West Street, and -his friends, the hardy Friesland sailors who taught me how to handle -the paint-brush, drew me closer to the German heart, and I found it -much less grasping than I thought it was. But the Frieslander of -those days had no great love for the Prussian. Bilharz, the idealist -of Cortlandt Street, gave me a more intimate knowledge of the German -temper, and helped much to dispel many of my early prejudices. But -Bilharz displayed decided dislike for the Prussians. The few German -friends whom I had during my “greenhorn” days were southern Germans, -and they did not appear to be very friendly to the idea of a united -Germany under Prussian hegemony. These early experiences encouraged -me in the belief that the Prussians were probably responsible for the -Teutonism which I disliked. This belief was strengthened by Bismarck’s -anti-Russian and anti-Serbian, but strongly pro-Austrian, policy at -the treaty of Berlin in 1878. He protested, I knew, that he would -not sacrifice the bones of a single Pomeranian grenadier for all the -Balkans; but I did not believe him. Hence the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>248</span> uncomfortable feeling -of being in an enemy country, when I first came to and settled down in -Berlin.</p> - -<p>The Teutonism of Prague, more than anything else, was responsible for -it. Racial antipathy is one of the saddest of psychic derangements; -and, although it is a repulsive product of modern nationalism, the -world does less than nothing to get rid of its insidious poisons. -European civilization is being destroyed by it. I suffered from its -evil effects during the early days of my life in Berlin. Helmholtz, -Koenig, and all the officers in the Physical Institute showed me every -kindness and consideration, and that prevented me from turning around -and speeding back to Cambridge as soon as the first breath of the -atmosphere of Berlin gave me an acute attack of anti-Teutonism. My -German landlady and her friends, as well as the German students I met -in the lecture-rooms, struck no responsive chord in my heart, because -it was out of tune with my surroundings. I remained a stranger in a -cold, strange land. A young Scotch friend of mine, a graduate of the -University of Glasgow, appeared on the scene, some time after I had -become settled in Berlin. He kept his promise, given me at Arran, to -join me in Berlin. He stayed at the university for one semester only -and heard lectures on Roman law. He looked like a northern Apollo: tall -and erect, the pink of youth radiating from his handsome face, and the -locks of purest gold adorning a lofty brow, which made you believe -that you were looking at a young Sir Walter Scott. His deep-blue eyes -knew of no suspicions, and his heart had never been touched by the -poison of racial antipathy. He loved the world and the world loved -him. His knowledge of German was very poor, and yet everybody loved to -talk to him. Even the stern Schutzman (policeman), stirred up to white -heat by too noisy a rendering of American and Scotch college songs in -the slumbering streets of Berlin, was as gentle as a dove when the -blue-eyed young<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>249</span> Scot stood in front of him and greeted him with a -honey-hearted smile. My landlady, quite an aged person, as well as her -young boarders, begged me to bring him to dinner as often as possible. -“Yes, do bring him,” said a sarcastic young fräulein; “you look quite -human and almost handsome when he is around.” There was much truth in -what she said; the poison of racial antipathy did not operate in me -when he was present. He made friends on every side among the German -students, and when I saw how he warmed up to them and how they warmed -up to him I began to thaw out myself. Helmholtz and dear little Koenig -were the first persons in Berlin who helped me to forget that Europe -was made up of different races who lived in eternal suspicion of each -other. After that, following the example of my Scotch friend, I began -to rid myself of the poisonous infection which I received from the -Teutonism in Prague; but it was a slow process. Helmholtz’s address on -Faraday was so warm and so generous to Faraday as well as to Maxwell, -and so wonderfully just, that I began to question the justice of my -anti-Teutonic prejudices.</p> - -<p>The two volumes of Helmholtz’s addresses and public speeches which I -enjoyed so much during that summer in my mother’s vineyard made me -almost repentant. My mother knew of my anti-Teutonic sentiments and -never approved of them. One day we drove to visit my younger sister, -who lived about fifteen miles from Idvor. On the way we passed through -a large village, Echka, having a mixed population of German, Rumanian, -and Serb peasants. There was a striking contrast in the appearance of -the houses, of the people, and of their methods of moving about in the -pursuit of their daily work. The German peasants were far ahead of the -Rumanians as well as of the Serbs. My mother called my attention to it, -but I made no comment. Presently we passed the stately Roman Catholic -church of the village, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>250</span> looked like a cathedral. It was built, -I was told, by the German peasants of Echka, and my mother told me -that it was crowded on Sundays and holidays, and that the priest was a -very learned and a very good man. When we passed the Orthodox church, -which was quite small and insignificant-looking, my mother said: “Would -you not feel ashamed if St. Sava came down to earth again and after -seeing that splendid German church looked at this hut which is called -the Orthodox church? But small as it is you will never find it filled -except at some weddings or at memorial services for some departed rich -person, when people expect much feasting.”</p> - -<p>Again I made no comment, because I was opposed to “alien intruders” -myself, as some people called the German colonists; and my mother -looked disappointed. Just then we saw two peasant girls carrying -river water in shining copper vessels. These vessels were suspended -at the ends of a long flexible staff which was nicely balanced on the -shoulder of each young carrier, so that one vessel was in front and -one behind her. The first girl was a blonde with slippers on her feet; -a simple dark-blue dress covered her youthful figure and displayed -the successive phases of her rhythmical movement. It was synchronized -with the swinging motion of the bright copper vessels, which moved up -and down like a double pendulum, bending the flexible shaft around -its point of support on the shoulder of the fair carrier. The copper -vessels, although filled to the brim, did not spill a single drop of -water; the perfect adjustment of the swinging motion of the carrier -to that of the swinging shaft produced this admirable result. The -girl, the staff, and the shining vessels stood in a beautiful harmonic -relation to each other. They reminded one of the harmonics in a sweet -musical chord. It was a beautiful sight, and I said so. My mother, -noticing my sudden burst of enthusiasm, sounded a warning. “She is a -German girl,” she said,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>251</span> “and she certainly is lovely. Her heart and -soul are in her job. But if you find one like her in Berlin, remember -your promise; you must marry an American girl if you wish to remain an -American, which I know you do.”</p> - -<p>She evidently had become a little alarmed at the thought that her -praises of the Germans might cause my sentiments to swing too far the -other way. The second water-carrier was a barefooted and gaudy-looking -lassie, who stepped along any old way and marked her track with -frequent splashes of water from the copper vessels. “She is a wild -Rumanian,” exclaimed my mother; “she can dance like a Vila, but she -hates her job of carrying water. You will never find one like her in -Berlin. The Germans have no use for people who do not love their daily -duties.” My mother was a great admirer of the thrifty and industrious -German colonists in Banat, whom she always recommended as models to -the peasants of Idvor. When she heard my praises of Helmholtz and my -confession of racial antipathy to the Germans she put up many powerful -arguments which were most convincing. They had a wonderful effect.</p> - -<p>When I returned to Berlin from Idvor things looked more inviting, and -my landlady remarked that I looked much more cheerful than I did a year -before, when I arrived from Scotland. In another year, she suggested -jokingly, I might look as cheerful as a real Prussian, particularly -if I should succumb to the charms of a Prussian beauty. Remembering -the promise that I had given to my mother about marrying an American -girl, I said to my landlady: “Never! I have already pledged my word to -one who is nearer to my heart than any Prussian beauty could ever be.” -“Ach, Herr Pupin, you have changed most wonderfully,” exclaimed the -landlady, and then she added in a whisper: “Just think of it! To get a -confession on the first day of your return which I could not get before -in nearly a year! I understand now why you<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>252</span> were always so distant to -the young ladies in my pensionat.” But the change of feeling, speeded -up by my mother, and noticed by my landlady, was speeded up almost as -effectively by another Serb.</p> - -<p>A Bosnian Serb with the name of Nikola had a fine cigarette shop on -Unter den Linden, the principal avenue of Berlin. It was within a -stone’s throw from the Imperial palace, and the highest aristocracy -of Berlin patronized it. He was a rough diamond, and would stand -no nonsense from any prince or count. If they found fault with his -famous Turkish cigarettes he did not hesitate to tell them to buy -them somewhere else. But he prospered, he said, because these German -aristocrats never resented straight talk from man to man. He laughed at -me, when I mentioned to him my suspicions and antipathies; and begged -me to pass with him, from time to time, an hour or so in his store, -and watch his German customers. I did, and profited much. The Prussian -aristocrats had no racial antipathy against a Serb, if their apparently -genuine affection for Nikola had any meaning. Nikola never left them in -any doubt as to his pride of being a Serb.</p> - -<p>Half-way between Nikola’s store and the Imperial palace was an old -chop-house, called Habel, dating from the time of Frederick the Great. -Frederick’s generals always stopped there for a glass of wine, when -they returned from an audience with the king. The custom persisted and -was still in existence when I was a student in Berlin. Nikola often -invited me to early luncheon at this chop-house, and there we saw the -great generals and marshals of the German Empire, sitting around a long -and separate table and taking a glass of wine after returning from the -Imperial palace, from their daily audience with old Emperor William. -It was a wonderful sight; those tall, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, -brainy, and serious-minded Teuton warriors inspired tremendous<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>253</span> -respect. Nikola assured me that he knew many of them personally, they -being his customers, and that as human beings they were as gentle -as doves. “Many a time I called them down when they joked about my -cigarettes, and they submitted without a murmur. Do you call that -arrogance?” asked Nikola, throwing out his chest and trying to look as -stern and as imposing as any of the generals present.</p> - -<p>Once he took me to an avenue where Moltke used to walk and showed -me the great field-marshal, who was then eighty-six years old, but -still as straight as an arrow. “Did you ever see a more modest and -thoughtful or a more spiritual-looking man anywhere?” asked Nikola, -and I confessed that I had not. “Then stop your talk about Prussian -pride!” exclaimed Nikola. On another occasion we walked to the park and -he showed me Bismarck, riding on horseback, a friend and an adjutant -accompanying him. Nikola saluted him and so did I, and Bismarck saluted -back graciously. “Does he look like a brute, or like a fool who would -try to convert by force all the Slavs into Germans?” asked Nikola, -poking fun at my anti-Teutonic suspicions. “No,” said I, “I do not -think he does; in fact, I think he looks very much like Helmholtz, -except that there is much less spirituality in his face than in that -of the great scientist.” “Helmholtz!” exclaimed Nikola, “even he would -lose his saintly expression, if he had to carry the load of the whole -empire upon his shoulders, the socialists on the top of his load -pushing it one way, and the clericals at the bottom pushing it the -other way.”</p> - -<p>Nikola was born in Bosnia when the Turks ruled supreme, and hence he -was not much of a scholar; but he was a careful listener, and always -thought through his own head; his judgment was remarkable, I thought. -He knew who’s who and what’s what in Berlin better than many a foreign -diplomat there. He used to joke about<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>254</span> it, saying that his knowledge -was expected of him, because he was the next-door neighbor of the -great Kaiser. The Serbs of Banat did not seriously dislike the German -colonists there, nor did the colonists dislike them, and they delighted -in speaking the Serb language. They called each other “komshiya,” -neighbor. The Serbs, in general, use this word when they refer to a -German in a friendly way. Nikola always referred to the great Kaiser as -his “komshiya”; many of his customers knew that and enjoyed it hugely. -They returned the compliment and often addressed Nikola with the -Serbian word “komshiya.” “Come and see my komshiya,” said he one day -to me, and there I stood for the first time in front of the Imperial -palace and waited for the old emperor to show himself at the window. -He did that almost every day about noontime when the guards marched by -on their daily parade. Presenting arms and looking straight at the old -emperor, they marched by like a single body animated by a single heart -and a single soul, and they spanked the ground with their vigorous -goose-step, the rhythmic strokes of which could be heard quite a -distance away through the ringing cheers of the enthusiastic crowd. “Do -you know what that means?” asked Nikola. I answered “No,” and he said: -“It means that every German looks up to his fatherland for orders, -and the perfect rhythm of that goose-step means that every German -will obey these orders and finish on time any job for the good of the -fatherland that may be assigned to him. It is the symbol of German -unity.” That was Nikola’s unique interpretation; I never heard anybody -else interpret it that way. But Nikola had a lively imagination and he -evidently wished me to get a favorable interpretation of everything the -Germans did.</p> - -<p>Between my young Scotch friend, my mother, Nikola, and my professors -in the Physical Institute, I soon forgot the unpleasant memories of -the Teutonism in Prague,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>255</span> and Berlin no longer looked to me like a -Thraenenthal, a valley of tears, as my old friend Bilharz in Cortlandt -Street would have called it. I soon found myself enjoying warm personal -friendships of German fellow students and of the professors, and it was -a very fortunate thing; it was providential. Nothing but the love of -God and the friendship of man can give that spiritual power which one -needs in moments of great sorrow. One day in the beginning of winter, -of that year, a letter arrived from my sister, telling me that my -saintly mother was no longer among the living. I vowed on that day that -her blessed memory should be perpetuated as far as an humble mortal -like myself could do it. Twenty-seven years later the Serbian Academy -of Sciences announced that the income of a foundation in memory of -Olympiada Pupin would be expended annually to assist a goodly number of -poor schoolboys in Old Serbia and Macedonia.</p> - -<p>The vanishing of a life which is an essential part of one’s own life -produces a mysterious shift of the direction of one’s mental and -spiritual vision. Instead of searching for light which will illuminate -the meaning of things in the external physical world, as the vision of -young people usually does, it begins to search for light which will -illuminate the meaning of what is going on in the internal world, the -spiritual world of our soul. The question “What is Light?” was no -longer the most important question of my thoughts after my mother’s -death. The question “What is Life?” dominated for a long time my -thoughts and feelings. I became introspective, and, being a somewhat -temperamental person, like most Slavs, I might have lost my way forever -in the labyrinth of all sorts of metaphysical structures of my own -creation. Providence came to my rescue. Two American students with -aspirations in science similar to mine joined the Physical Institute. -One of them, a Harvard graduate, the late Arthur Gordon Webster, was -the very distinguished<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>256</span> professor of physics at Clark University; the -other, a Johns Hopkins man, Joseph Sweetman Ames, is now the director -of the physical laboratory at Johns Hopkins and a worthy successor to -the famous Henry Augustus Rowland. Their truly American enthusiasm and -directness prevented me from relapsing into the drowsy indefiniteness, -sometimes called idealism, of a temperamental and sentimental Slav. -They told me many wonderful tales of the higher endeavor in science at -Harvard and at Johns Hopkins. The new Jefferson Physical Laboratory -at Harvard was a wonder, according to Webster; and Ames never grew -weary of extolling the beauties of Rowland’s wonderful researches in -solar spectra, and I never grew weary of listening to them. At times, -however, I wondered why these two men had ever come to Helmholtz when -they were so well off at home. Ames wondered, too, and he returned to -Rowland at the end of the year; but Webster stayed, although in my -presence he never admitted unreservedly that the Physical Institute -in Berlin was very much better than anything they had at Harvard. -Webster’s and Ames’s testimony convinced me that the great movement -in the United States for higher endeavor in science was making rapid -progress; and I longed to finish up my studies in Berlin and return to -the United States. After my mother’s death Europe attracted me much -less.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A new physical science was attracting much attention in Germany at -that time, the science of physical chemistry. Helmholtz was very much -interested in it. I had read his latest papers on the subject and they -reminded me of what I had seen in Maxwell’s book on heat about Willard -Gibbs of Yale. I soon discovered that the alleged German fathers of -the new science were anticipated by Gibbs by at least ten years. -Remembering the charge of De Tocqueville that the American democracy -had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>257</span> never done anything for abstract science, I made a careful note of -my find. It was a clean-cut little discovery, I thought, and Helmholtz -admitted it. He suggested even that I might find material in it for a -research leading to a doctor dissertation. I embraced the suggestion -and started an experimental research, at the same time studying the -theories of Gibbs, Helmholtz, and other authorities, mostly German, -on physical chemistry. The more one penetrates the depths of any -problem the more he yields to the belief that this problem is the -most important problem in the world. This happened to me; and the -Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory was shelved, temporarily, on -account of my interest in physical chemistry, and particularly on -account of the prospect of finding there a doctor dissertation, which I -finally did.</p> - -<p>At the end of the first semester and at Webster’s suggestion he and -I, in the spring of 1887, went to Paris for a short visit. We wished -to see what physical science was doing at the Sorbonne and at the -Collège de France, and to compare the academic world of Paris with that -of Berlin. We stayed there three weeks and learned quite a number of -novel and interesting things. The architectural beauties of Paris as -well as its art galleries and museums made a profound impression upon -me. As a record of a magnificent old civilization Paris, I thought, -was incomparably ahead of Berlin. The spirit of Laplace, La Grange, -Fourier, Ampère, Arago, Fresnel, Foucault, and Fizeau was very much -alive in the ancient halls of the Sorbonne and of the Collège de -France. The background of a former glorious period of physical science -in France was much more impressive in Paris than the corresponding -background in Berlin. But for every one of the great savants in -physical and mathematical sciences, who were active in Paris at the -time of my visit, like Poincaré, Hermite, Darboux, -<a id="Appel"></a><ins title="Original has 'Appell'">Appel</ins>, -Lippmann,one could<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>258</span> -name several in Berlin. And there was nobody in Paris who, -in my opinion, could measure up to Helmholtz, Kirchhoff, and DuBois -Reymond. There was no statesman there of Bismarck’s caliber, and no -general like Moltke. I saw no warriors who looked like the magnificent -fellows whom Nikola first exhibited to me at the long table in Habel’s. -General Boulanger was very much in the limelight. I saw him at a -great official reception, and I should have felt very sorry if the -destiny of France had been intrusted to him. The physical and chemical -laboratories were rather poorly equipped and compared unfavorably -with the corresponding laboratories in Berlin. The draped statues in -the Place de la Concorde, testifying to France’s grief for the loss -of Alsace-Lorraine, completed the picture of Paris in my mind, which -was anything but cheerful. France, I thought, had not yet recovered -completely from her wounds of 1870–1871, and I felt sorry. Two years -earlier I had passed through Paris on my way from Pornic to Idvor and -had carried away a much more cheerful picture. But at that time my -observations, covering barely two days, did not see much; and, besides, -I did not know Berlin at that time and could make no comparisons. -If Paris reflected the spirit of France and Berlin that of Germany, -then France, I thought, was a falcon with broken wings and Germany -was a young eagle that had just discovered the wonderful power of its -pinions. The wonderful intellectual and physical vigor of the new -empire impressed powerfully every foreign student at the University of -Berlin when I was a student there. This gave me much food for thought -and I searched for explanations.</p> - -<p>There was one explanation which always appealed to me much on account -of its simplicity. I heard it from a very learned German. This was his -story: The German iron always contained phosphorus, including also the -great deposits of iron which the Germans had found in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>259</span> Alsace-Lorraine. -The only good iron that Germany had prior to 1880 was that in the Iron -Chancellor. Hence, Germany could not build up a steel industry, and -without it no great industrial development is possible in any country. -A miracle happened; a young Englishman, a clerk in a London police -court, made a discovery which was destined to give Germany its great -steel industry. This was Sidney Gilchrist Thomas, who discovered the -so-called “basic Bessemer” process. It made iron containing phosphorus -easily available for the manufacture of iron and steel products. This -started the modern steel industry of Germany in the early eighties. -Many a street in the towns of the German steel districts was named in -honor of Gilchrist Thomas. “This,” said my informant, “is the power -which, as you express it, the young German eagle has discovered in its -pinions.” I suspected that the object of his story might have been to -discourage an opinion on my part that the remarkable vigor of Germany -was derived from the weakness of France. Hence I looked up the data of -his story, but I found them correct. Years ago I told this story to the -late Andrew Carnegie, and he agreed with my German informant. To-day -I am convinced that neither the great works of Krupp, nor the great -German navy, nor many other things which have happened since my Berlin -days, would have been possible without the start which was made with -the aid of Gilchrist Thomas.</p> - -<p>Another remarkable assertion from the same informant made a lasting -impression. According to him, united Germany would not have endured -very long, if it had not been for the rapid rise of the German steel -industry and of other German industries which followed in its wake. The -organization of Germany as an economic unit secured the organization of -Germany as a political unit. He summed it up by saying that Bismarck -and Moltke had raised the structure of the German Empire,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>260</span> but that -Gilchrist Thomas had built a steel ring around it which prevented it -from falling to pieces. He added then a corollary to this startling -statement, and I repeat it here in the form of a question. If the -scientific research of a young clerk in a London police court, who -studied chemistry in a London evening school, could do so much for -Germany, how much can one reasonably expect from the great research -laboratories of the German universities and technical schools? This, -according to my informant, had become a national question in Germany. -This information reminded me that the great movement in Great Britain -and in the United States for higher scientific research was also -present in Germany, but in a much more advanced form. My informant -called my attention to Werner von Siemens’s pioneer work in this German -movement.</p> - -<p>Ernst Werner von Siemens was at that time, next to Helmholtz, the most -admired scientist in the German Empire. He was the head of a great -electrical plant in the heart of Berlin, and was known everywhere -to possess a splendid combination of talents in abstract science -and engineering. Men of that type were quite rare in those days, -and they are very rare even to-day. I heard a great deal about him -in a course of lectures on electrical engineering which I attended -at the Polytechnic School of Berlin. I saw him several times, when -he called at the Physical Institute on his friend and relative by -marriage, Excellenz von Helmholtz. His remarkable appearance made a -strong impression upon me, and I longed to see his great plant, where -all kinds of electrical things were made, from the finest electrical -precision instruments to the largest types of dynamos and motors, many -of them his own inventions. As a sign of special favor Helmholtz gave -me a note of introduction to his distinguished friend, who received -me graciously and gave me to an official who took me around the great -electrical plant,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>261</span> the first that I had ever seen. The impression which -it made upon my mind was certainly wonderful, but not more wonderful -than the impression which the great personality of Siemens had made -upon me. The more I learned about him the more I became convinced that -no industrial organization ever had a presiding genius of greater -attainments than Siemens. His attitude toward abstract science and its -relation to the industries is best described by mentioning here a fact -which is of great significance in the history of physical science. He -founded in that year, 1887, the great Physical-Technical Institute, and -presented it to the German nation; Helmholtz was its first president. -The modern science of radiation rests upon a foundation first laid by -Kirchhoff and greatly strengthened by additional experimental data -obtained in this institute under the guidance of Helmholtz. Planck, the -successor of Kirchhoff at the University of Berlin, already in office -before I left Berlin, was undoubtedly inspired by these experiments -when he formulated his great law of radiation which forms to-day the -last word in the science of radiation, a great science which justly -bears the mark “made in Germany,” just as the electromagnetic theory -bears the mark “made in England.” The Physical-Technical Institute -will always stand as a memorial to the man who preached in Germany the -doctrine of the closest co-operation between abstract science and the -industries. Germany adopted it first; the United States adopted it many -years later. Helmholtz and Siemens always represented to me the highest -symbol of this co-operation.</p> - -<p>Bismarck and Moltke, Helmholtz and Siemens, were the great power which -the young German eagle had discovered in his pinions; and he flew as -he had never flown before, and his flight astonished me when I was -a student in Berlin. He who wants to know the real Germany of the -eighties should study the lives of Bismarck and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>262</span> Moltke, of Helmholtz -and Siemens. They, I firmly believed at that time, were the leaders of -the German constructive thought and action; they were the fathers of -united Germany just as Washington and Hamilton, Franklin and Jefferson, -were the fathers of this country. But would the spiritual influence -of the fathers of united Germany produce a German Lincoln? I knew the -historical background of the Declaration of Independence and also -its historical foreground too well to answer this question in the -affirmative. Extraordinary men can do extraordinary things, but the -course of a nation’s destiny will always be guided not by transient -efforts of one or even of several extraordinary men of a given period, -but by the persistent power of the nation’s traditions.</p> - -<p>My visit to Paris was to supply me with more knowledge of the academic -world of France, and also with some fresh food for thought relating -to my problem in physical chemistry, and it did in a measure. But -the current of thought which was started by some of the strongest -mental stimuli which I received in Paris had nothing to do with either -physical chemistry or with academic France; it ran into German channels -which I described above. These were the channels which ran through -the minds of most university men in Germany, and in these channels -every problem in art, science, and literature was viewed at that time -from the standpoint of German economic and political unity. My German -scientific friends, particularly those in eastern Prussia, where I -spent the summer vacation of 1887, would rather discuss those problems -than the problems in physical chemistry or in the electromagnetic -theory. It took me some time after my return from Paris to get back -completely to my research in physical chemistry. But no sooner had -I gone back to it than the irresistible power of the current of big -events, following each other in quick succession, took me away from it -again. I shall describe them in their historical<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>263</span> order, but only in so -far as they are related to the main thread of my narrative.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>One of the many sources of inspiration at the University of Berlin was -the Physical Society which met once a month at the Physical Institute. -The research students of the institute were admitted to these meetings, -and one can imagine what an inspiration it was to them to see and to -hear the scientists like Kirchhoff, the great mathematical physicist, -DuBois Reymond, the great physiologist, Hoffman, the great chemist, and -Helmholtz, the greatest of them all. I often imagined while attending -these meetings and listening to the learned remarks of these scientific -giants, that I was a lucky mortal who by some strange accident had -found himself suddenly among the great heroes in Walhalla. Helmholtz -usually presided, and his impressive physiognomy suggested a Wotan -presiding at a gathering of the Teuton gods in Walhalla. Whenever I -hear Wagner’s Walhalla motif I am reminded of those memorable scenes in -the Physical Institute in Berlin, the scenes of victory of the immortal -mind of man over mortal matter.</p> - -<p>At one of those meetings, which took place toward the end of 1887, -many scientific giants of the university were present and Helmholtz -presided. There was an atmosphere of expectancy as if something unusual -was going to happen. Helmholtz rose and looked more solemn than ever, -but I noticed a light of triumph in his eyes; he looked like a Wotan -gazing upon the completed form of heavenly Walhalla, and I felt -intuitively that he was about to disclose an unusual announcement, -and he did. Referring to Doctor Heinrich Hertz, a former pupil of his -and at that time professor of physics at the Technical High School in -Karlsruhe, Helmholtz solemnly announced that he would describe some -remarkable experimental results which Hertz had obtained by means -of very rapid<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>264</span> electrical oscillations. He then described in his -inimitable way a preliminary report which Hertz had sent him, pointing -out, in a most lucid manner, the bearing of these experiments upon -the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory, and affirming that these -experiments furnished a complete experimental verification of that -remarkable theory. Everybody present was thrilled, particularly when -Helmholtz closed with a eulogy of his beloved pupil, Hertz, and with -a congratulation to German science upon the good fortune of adding -another “beautiful leaf to its laurel wreath.” That thrill soon reached -the physicists in every physical laboratory in the world; and for a -number of years after that memorable announcement most investigators -in physics were busy repeating the beautiful Hertzian experiments. The -radio of to-day is an offshoot of those experiments.</p> - -<p>This is no place to go into a detailed description of what Hertz -did. The fundamental idea underlying his beautiful research and its -relation to the Faraday-Maxwell far-reaching electromagnetic theory -can be described in very simple terms. The wonderful achievements of -radio broadcasting alone, to say nothing of other much more important -achievements, demand this description. That idea, like the tiny seed -hidden in a beautiful flower, lay hidden in Faraday’s visions and -in Maxwell’s wonderful, but, to most ordinary mortals, enigmatic -interpretation of them. Hertz, guided by his great teacher, Helmholtz, -caught the hidden seed and out of it grew a physical embodiment of -the Faraday-Maxwell theory, represented by ideally simple apparatus, -operating in an ideally simple way. The apparatus and its operation -are now the heart and soul of a new art, the radio art, a beautiful -daughter of the beautiful mother, the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic -science. The following description of Hertz’s apparatus and of its -operation was the theme of popular lectures and of many conversations<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>265</span> -which I had with my friends who were not physicists by profession. It -represents quite closely the simple picture which I carried away in -my mind from that memorable meeting of the Berlin Physical Society -thirty-six years ago.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="oscillator"> - <img src="images/oscillator.jpg" width="700" height="454" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">THE HERTZIAN OSCILLATOR</div> - <p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/oscillator-i.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<blockquote> -<p>Two equal metal spheres <em>A</em> and <em>B</em>, each twelve inches -in diameter, and each carrying copper rods <em>C</em> and <em>D</em>, -are placed as indicated in the diagram given here. At <em>E</em> is an -opening of about three-tenths of an inch in length, the so-called -<em>air-gap</em>. By means of two wires <em>e</em> and <em>f</em>, -connected to an electrical machine, the spheres are charged, one -receiving a positive electrical charge denoted by the (+) sign, -and the other a negative one, denoted by the (-) sign. The air-gap -<em>E</em> insulates one sphere from the other, and its function is -to make it possible for the electrical machine to increase the two -charges until a very high electrical tension is reached. When the -electrical tension between the two charges, acting through the -air-gap <em>E</em>, is sufficiently high, then the insulating power of -the air-gap is overstrained and suddenly it breaks down and becomes -conductive and permits the two charges to rush toward each other. -The conductivity of the air-gap suspends the action of the charging -machine. A large current passes then between<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>266</span> the two spheres along -the rods and through the air-gap <em>E</em> which is heated by the -current to white heat. It becomes then a very good conductor and -permits the charges to pass through it easily. The collapse of the -air-gap is reported by the sharp crack of the electrical spark which -is due to the very sudden heating and expansion of the air in the -air-gap produced by the passage of the electrical current. It is -a miniature lightning. The two charges reunite, the spheres are -discharged, and after that the air-gap <em>E</em> recovers quickly -from its breakdown and becomes an insulator again. The process is -then repeated by the action of the machine and a rapid succession of -sparks can be maintained, each one of them announcing by the crack -of the spark the reunion of the charges that had been pulled apart -and forced to the surfaces <em>A</em> and <em>B</em> by the action of the -electrical generator.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>All this was known long before Hertz. The first experiment of this -kind I saw in Panchevo in my boyhood days, when my Slovenian teacher -Kos explained to me the theory of lightning according to the views of -Benjamin Franklin, a theory which clashed with the St. Elijah legend of -Idvor and nearly proved me guilty of heresy. But there was something in -these electrical discharges that Benjamin Franklin did not know, and -that knowledge was first suggested by another great American scientist, -a scientist even greater than Benjamin Franklin was in his day.</p> - -<p>As far back as 1842 our own Joseph Henry performed experiments -similar to those performed by Hertz, and he inferred, prophetically, -that the discharge was oscillatory. Nobody ever suggested this idea -before, but Henry’s experiments permitted such an inference. Its -oscillatory character was then demonstrated mathematically in 1853 by -Professor William Thomson of Glasgow, and his calculation was proved -to be correct by many experimental tests covering a period of over -twenty-five years, and thus the electrical oscillator, similar to the -one employed by Hertz, became a well-known apparatus.</p> - -<p>What, then, was the novel element in the Hertzian work? It was, -broadly speaking, his demonstration that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>267</span> the space surrounding -the oscillator (the spheres with their rods) participates in the -electrical oscillations in perfect agreement with the Faraday-Maxwell -theory; a participation which was foreign to all previous electrical -theories. In other words, he detected in the old electrical-oscillation -experiments a new action, never detected nor even dreamed of before. He -discovered the electrical waves in the space outside of the oscillator. -Remembering the impression which Helmholtz’s lecture on Faraday made -upon my mind, I was certain at that time that nobody in Continental -Europe but one of Helmholtz’s pupils like Hertz could have predicted -that there was in these well-known electrical oscillations a new -action, an action demanded by the Faraday-Maxwell theory. A simple -analogy will, I trust, help much to illustrate the new action which -Hertz expected when he started out to search for an experimental test -of the modern electromagnetic theory. No scientific expedition ever -started out in search of scientific treasures and returned with a -richer load.</p> - -<p>Here is the analogy:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>If by the force of our fingers we deflect the ends of the prongs -of a tuning-fork and then let go, the prongs will return to their -normal position after performing a number of vibrations of gradually -diminishing amplitude. The state of rest is reached when the energy -of bending, produced by the work of our fingers, has been expended, -partly in overcoming the internal friction in the tuning-fork, partly -in overcoming the reactions of the surrounding medium, the air; this -last effect results in sound-waves which are radiated off into space. -The stiffness and the mass of the prongs of the fork determine the -period of vibration, that is, the pitch of the fork.</p> - -<p>I confess that in the course of my life since my Berlin days I -afforded considerable amusement to my friends whenever I tried to -explain to them the Hertzian experiments by appealing to what I -considered a well-known action of the tuning-fork. Some of them -objected on the ground that this action is just as difficult -to understand as the action of the Hertzian oscillator. I met -this objection by describing to them the action of the reed in -Serbian bagpipes which I watched when I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>268</span> was a boy, and understood -sufficiently well to recognize later in the action of the tuning-fork -a performance similar to that of the reed in the Serbian bagpipes. I -understood the tuning-fork because I understood the reed. An educated -American, I claimed, should find no difficulty in understanding the -action of a simple mechanism which an uneducated Serbian peasant boy -understood.</p> - -<p>The Hertzian electrical oscillator, described above, acts like the -tuning-fork. The process of pulling apart the two charges, the -positive from the negative, and of forcing them to the surface of -the spheres by the action of the electrical machine, is a parallel -to the process of deflecting by the pressure of our fingers the -prongs of the tuning-fork from their normal position. In one case -the tuning-fork by its elastic stiffness reacts against the bending -of the prongs. In the electrical case the electrical lines of force -in the space surrounding the oscillator react against the action -of the machine which crowds them into this space by stretching and -compressing them. This is the picture of the action of the lines of -force which Faraday gave me on the island of Arran, but I did not -understand it. In the picture the dotted curves are the Faraday lines -of force and the arrow-heads indicate the direction of the electrical -force. The Hertzian oscillator, and what Helmholtz had told me -before, made Faraday’s language and thoughts much more intelligible. -The work done by the machine is all expended upon the stretching -and compressing of the lines of force into the space outside of the -spheres, that is, upon the <em>electrification of that space</em>.</p> - -<p>Compare now the motion of the tuning-fork, after the pressure of -the fingers has been removed, to the electrical motion when the -air-gap has broken down and the action of the electrical generator -suspended. The prongs are driven back to their normal position by -the elastic reaction due to the bending; but when they reach that -position they are moving with a certain velocity, and their momentum -carries them beyond that position; they move on until the energy of -the moving mass has been expended in the work of bending the prongs -in the direction opposite to that of the original bending. The -prongs begin then to move back in the opposite direction, starting -the second cycle of motion. The same line of reasoning will carry -us into the third and fourth and every succeeding cycle of motion. -It is obvious that these cycles will follow each other during equal -intervals of time, which gives a definite pitch to the tuning-fork. A -periodic motion of this type is called an oscillation or vibration; -and it is clear that it is a periodic transformation of the energy -of elastic bending into energy of motion of the mass of the prongs -including the surrounding air, and vice versa. The motion is finally -reduced to rest when the energy of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>269</span> bending, produced at the start -by the work of the fingers, has been used up. The question, what -has become of that energy? is very important in this connection. -The answer is: It is used up partly in overcoming internal friction -and <em>partly in overcoming the reactions of the surrounding air, -which result in sound-waves</em>. A sound-wave is a short name -describing the physical fact that in the air here are compressions -and dilatations alternating at periodically recurring intervals. The -production of sound-waves in the air is a proof that the air in the -space surrounding the tuning-fork participates in the motions of the -tuning-fork.</p> - -<p>A perfectly analogous experiment was performed by Hertz with his -electrical oscillator, and his principal object was to find whether -the electrical field, that is, the electrified space surrounding -the oscillator, reacted as did the air driven by the vibrating -tuning-fork; if it did it would develop electrical waves. If these -electrical waves actually existed, what did Hertz expect them to -be? In the description of the oscillator and of its action, given -above, two things only were mentioned: the action of the electrical -machine which charges the oscillator and the reaction of the lines of -force against the tensions and pressures which crowd them into the -surrounding space. The electrical waves can, therefore, be nothing -else than periodic variations of the tensions and pressures in the -lines of force, that is to say, periodic variations in the destiny of -the lines of force in the space surrounding the oscillator. This was -what Hertz had found.</p> - -<p>The breakdown of the air-gap in the electrical oscillator and the -consequent suspension of the action of the electrical generator is -analogous to the removing of the pressure of the fingers from the -prongs of the tuning-fork. The electrical charges on the spheres -with the lines of force attached to them, strained by tensions and -compressions, are released, and they move toward each other through -the conducting air-gap. Just as the prongs of the tuning-fork, after -the pressure of the fingers has been removed, cannot remain in the -strained position in which they have been bent, so the electrical -lines of force, after the insulating air-gap has broken down and the -action of the machine been suspended, cannot remain in the position -to which they are stretched; they contract, and hence their positive -terminals on one sphere and the negative on the other move toward -each other. The motion of the strained lines of force with their -terminals, the charges on the spheres, has a momentum. Maxwell was -the first to show that the momentum of the moving electrical lines -of force is equal to the number of magnetic lines of force which, -according to Oerstedt’s discovery, are produced by the motion of the -electrical lines of force.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>270</span> -The motion of the electrical lines of force has not only momentum -but also energy. Employing Faraday’s mode of expression we can say -that the electrical energy of the stretched electrical lines of force -is thus transformed into energy of the electrical motions. This is -perfectly analogous to the passage of the elastic energy of the bent -prongs of the tuning-fork into the energy of motion of the moving -mass of these prongs. Again, just as the momentum of the moving -mass of the tuning-fork bends the prongs in the opposite direction -and continues this bending until that motion has disappeared, so -the momentum of the moving electrical lines of force will stretch -again the electrical lines of force and continue this stretching -until the energy of motion has disappeared, when the two spheres are -charged again, but in the direction which is opposite to that in the -beginning. A new cycle of electrical motion is then started again -by the stretched electrical lines of force, repeating itself in an -oscillatory fashion until the original electrical energy, produced by -the charging electrical machine, has disappeared.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>But where has the energy gone? This question is just as important in -this case as it was in the case of the tuning-fork. The old electrical -theories answered this question one way, and Maxwell, inspired by -Faraday, answered it in another. The old theories maintained that -there is no other electrical motion except the motion of the charges -along the conducting surface of the spheres and the rods. They paid -no attention to the motion of the lines of force, because they knew -nothing about them. Their vision did not see the lines themselves -but only their terminals, the charges. Hence, according to the old -theories, all of the energy imparted by the machine is transformed into -heat in the conducting parts of the oscillator.</p> - -<p>Hertz was the first to prove that a part of the energy is radiated -off into space, in a similar manner as the energy of a tuning-fork -is radiated off in the form of sound waves. He detected in the space -surrounding the oscillator the presence of electrical waves, that is, -periodically recurring variations of the density of the electrical -lines of force; he measured their length, and, having calculated -the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>271</span> period of his oscillator, he divided the wave-length by the -period and obtained the velocity of propagation. It came out, in his -earliest experiments, roughly equal to the velocity of light, as -the Faraday-Maxwell theory had predicted. The waves were reflected -and refracted by insulators denser than air, and all these and -other effects Hertz demonstrated to follow the laws which hold good -for light, supporting admirably Maxwell’s theory that light is an -electromagnetic disturbance. Even this preliminary report which Hertz -had sent to Helmholtz convinced everybody that the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory had triumphed, and that our knowledge of -electromagnetic phenomena had been wonderfully extended. Subsequent -experiments by Hertz and others added more and more laurels to this -first victory.</p> - -<p>That meeting of the Physical Society in Berlin was what I always -considered the inauguration day of the electromagnetic theory. Prior -to that day the theory existed in all its beautiful completeness, but -it dwelt on high in the celestial heights of Faraday and Maxwell. -Continental physicists needed the guidance of a Helmholtz to reach -these heights. After that day it came down to earth and lived among -mortal men and became part of their mode of thought. It was a heavenly -gift which Hertz brought down to earth. Everybody was convinced that -the science of light had become a part of the science of electricity.</p> - -<p><em>This new knowledge was the second great revelation of the nineteenth -century. The wonderful things which followed in its wake, even before -the nineteenth century had closed, testify to the greatness of that -revelation.</em></p> - -<p>I have often asked myself the question, Why did not our Joseph Henry, -who discovered the oscillatory electrical motions and operated with -apparatus similar to that employed by Hertz, pursue his studies -further than he did in 1842? and why did not Maxwell, the formulator<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>272</span> -of the modern electromagnetic science, perform those ideally simple -experiments which Hertz performed? The knowledge of the electrical -oscillator was the same in 1865 as in 1887, and Maxwell undoubtedly had -that knowledge. History offers an answer to these questions and this -answer throws a splendid light upon the character of these two great -scientists.</p> - -<p>Soon after 1842 Joseph Henry resigned his professorship at Princeton -College, and bade good-by to his laboratory where he had made several -of his splendid discoveries, and where in 1832 he had constructed and -operated the first electromagnetic telegraph, one of the practical -results of his great discoveries. This happened long before Morse had -ever been heard of. Henry’s fame among men of science was very great -and promised to grow even greater if he continued his scientific -researches. He was still in his prime, only a few years over forty. -But a patriotic duty called him to Washington, where the Smithsonian -Institution waited for his skilled hand to organize it and to defend -it against the scheming politician. This duty tore him away from his -beloved laboratory, and he spent the rest of his life, over thirty -years, in Washington as secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, -as originator of most of the national scientific bureaus of which -this country is proud to-day. He was also the first president of -the National Academy of Sciences, chartered by Congress in 1863, -thanks to his efforts. Physical science under his leadership had -rendered valuable service to the country during the Civil War, and -the congressional charter to the National Academy of Sciences was a -graceful recognition of this service. I have already pointed out Joseph -Henry’s splendid efforts for the advancement of scientific research in -this country and shall return to it later. He was a great scientist, -but he was also a great patriot; his country stood first and his own -scientific achievements and fame stood second in his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>273</span> heart. That, -I am sure, was the reason why he did not pursue any further than he -did his researches of electrical oscillations. I will mention here -that one of the most gratifying results of my humble efforts was the -naming of an electrical unit after his name. My colleague, the late -Professor Francis Bacon Crocker of Columbia University, joined me most -enthusiastically in these efforts; and the Electrical Congress in -Chicago in 1893, at which Helmholtz presided, adopted the name Henry as -the unit of electrical inductance; the unit Farad was named in honor -of Faraday. No other electrical units are in more frequent use than -the Farad and the Henry, particularly in the radio art. No other men -contributed to this art as much as Faraday and Henry did.</p> - -<p>Maxwell resigned his professorship at King’s College, London, at the -end of 1865, soon after he had communicated to the Royal Society his -great <em>memoir</em> on the electromagnetic theory. The electromagnetic -theory of light which, as I pointed out before, he had called “great -guns” in a letter addressed to a friend, was the climax of it. He -retired to his country place, Glenlair, in Scotland, and for five years -he was free to devote his entire time to study and meditation. That -was the highest joy of his life. But the Duke of Devonshire, a loyal -Cambridge man, had presented the university with a goodly sum of money -for the building and equipment of a physical laboratory. It was to -be named the Cavendish laboratory, after Lord Cavendish, the Duke’s -illustrious ancestor, who had devoted his life to electrical science. -This gift was the Duke’s response to the Cambridge movement in favor -of scientific research. Maxwell was called to Cambridge to become the -director of the new laboratory, and he responded, knowing well that, -from that moment on, most of his time would be devoted to organization -and administration. Duty to his university, and to the cause of -scientific research in Great Britain, stood higher<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>274</span> in his heart than -the experimental demonstration of his great theory; that was certainly -one of the reasons why Maxwell did not perform those ideally simple -experiments which Hertz performed. But as director of the Cavendish -laboratory he had trained a number of men, in order to prepare them to -push on the line of advance where he had left it; and one of them, in -particular, was soon to take the leadership in the rapid development of -the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory.</p> - -<p>The examples of Henry and of Maxwell must have been in Andrew White’s -mind when in 1873 he spoke those memorable words which I quoted before -and will quote here again:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>I will confine myself to the value, in our political progress, of -the spirit and example of some of the scientific workers of our -day and generation. What is the example which reveals that spirit? -It is an example of <em>zeal</em>, ... of <em>thoroughness</em>, of -<em>bravery</em>, ... of <em>devotion to duty</em> without which no -scientific work can be accomplished, ... of <em>faith</em> that truth -and goodness are inseparable.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>The Hertzian experiments created quite an upheaval in the research -programme of the Physical Institute; everybody seemed anxious to drop -his particular subject of research and try his hand at the Hertzian -waves. Several candidates for the doctor’s degree yielded, but I -resisted and returned to my problem in physical chemistry, and plodded -along as if nothing had happened. I was very anxious to finish my -research, get my doctor’s degree, and return to the United States. -But I soon found out that there are currents in human life which can -influence the course of life of a young scientist much more powerfully -than even a new and powerful current of thought in physical sciences.</p> - -<p>During the first two months of 1888, Nikola, the Bosnian Serb, began to -look worried. He informed me confidentially that he had received bad -news about the health<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>275</span> of his great “komshiya,” the aged Kaiser. The -audiences at the palace were separated by longer and longer intervals, -and Habel’s long table began to look deserted; the old generals with -their splendid uniforms were conspicuously absent and the historic -chop-house began to look commonplace. The daily parades of the guards -were finally suspended, and there were no expectant crowds in front of -the Imperial palace. The gay life of Unter den Linden became very much -subdued. Finally the historic event occurred: the great emperor died -on March 9, 1888. Berlin went into mourning and prepared for a funeral -such as Germany had never seen before. “I have secured a balcony for -you and your friends right over my store,” said Nikola; “I want you and -your friends to see the funeral procession as my guests.” His grief -over the death of the old emperor was really pathetic. He wanted me -and my American friends to see the great procession which, according -to his gloomy forebodings, was to mark the first step downward in the -wonderful development of the German Empire. When, consoling him, I -pointed out the well-known virtues of Crown Prince Frederick, he took -hold of his larynx and his gesture indicated that he expected the -death of the Crown Prince from his incurable malady. “What then?” I -asked him. He answered: “Ask your Bismarck and Moltke, Helmholtz and -Siemens; they are your oracles, perhaps they can answer your question; -no ordinary mortal can.”</p> - -<p>Nikola had never met my American friends whom he mentioned in his -invitation, but he had heard a great deal about them. My classmate at -Columbia, A. V. Williams Jackson, now the distinguished Orientalist and -professor at Columbia University, was at that time at the University of -Halle, studying with the great Orientalist, Professor Geltner. He had -visited me in Berlin and I returned his visit by spending with him a -week-end at Halle. This was shortly before the great Kaiser’s death.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>276</span> -Jackson’s mother and two sisters were there on a longer visit, and for -two days I felt that I was back in New York again, and I was supremely -happy. On the way back to Berlin I could not dismiss from my mind the -memory of my mother’s words: “You must marry an American girl if you -wish to remain an American, which I know you do.” Ever since my return -from Halle, I could hear these words ringing in my ear no matter where -I was, in my lodgings, in the laboratory, in the lecture-rooms, or even -in Nikola’s store. Nikola had read my thoughts, and when he mentioned -my American friends he meant Jackson and his mother and sisters at -Halle. Well, they came, they saw, and they conquered. One of Jackson’s -sisters went to Italy during that spring and I followed; she returned -to Berlin to join her mother and I followed; she went to the island of -Norderney, in the North Sea, to spend a part of the summer season, and -I followed. The Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory and the Hertzian -experiments, my research in physical chemistry, and the learned essays -of Helmholtz and Willard Gibbs, and of all the other fathers of -physical chemistry, disappeared from my mind as if they had never been -there. The only problem that could find a place there was the question: -Will she accept me? She finally did, and I made a bee-line for New -York, in order to find out how soon I could get a job there.</p> - -<p>The Columbia authorities were organizing at that time a new department -in the School of Mines, the Department of Electrical Engineering, and -they were glad to see me and consult me about it. It was to start its -work a year from that time, that is, the end of September, 1889. I -was offered a position in it as “Teacher of Mathematical Physics in -the Department of Electrical Engineering.” A very long title, indeed, -but such it was and an interesting bit of history is attached to it. -I accepted gladly and hurried back to Europe proud as a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>277</span> peacock. My -fiancée and her family met me in London and I was married in the Greek -church, according to the rites of the Orthodox faith, the faith of my -mother and of all my ancestors.</p> - -<p>“Marriage gives that fulness to life which nothing else can give,” -said Helmholtz when I saw him again in Berlin and informed him that -I was married and that I had been promised an academic position at -Columbia College. He approved my dropping the experimental research -and substituting in its place a mathematical research in physical -chemistry. This research was finished in the early spring and I sent -it to Helmholtz who was then in Baden-Baden. He telegraphed: “Your -successful effort approved and accepted.” Never before nor since did -I ever receive a telegram which made me more happy. The examinations -gave me no serious trouble, and in the late spring of that year I had -my doctor’s degree and became a citizen in the world of science. The -three theses which, according to old German custom, every candidate -seeking promotion to the dignity of a doctor of philosophy must frame -and defend publicly are given here, in order to show my final mental -attitude which was formulated by my scientific studies in Europe.</p> - -<p>I. Instruction in Physics in the preparatory schools should be as much -as possible a practical one.</p> - -<p>II. The Thermodynamic methods of Gibbs, von Helmholtz, and Planck form -the most reliable foundation for the study of those physical processes -which we cannot analyze by ordinary dynamics.</p> - -<p>III. The Electromagnetic Theory of Light deserves more attention than -it has received so far in university lectures.</p> - -<p>Usually these theses, appended to German doctor dissertations, are not -taken very seriously either by the candidate, who is to be promoted, or -by anybody else. But I took my theses very seriously. The first summed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>278</span> -up President Barnard’s doctrine relating to scientific instruction, -which I described before in connection with my description of the -American movement favoring scientific research in American colleges and -universities; the second summed up my admiration for the new science -of physical chemistry first started by our own Josiah Willard Gibbs; -and the third summed up my love for the Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic -science. On these three questions in physical science I had, I thought, -quite clear and definite ideas; and that gave me much confidence that -I was about to return to the United States sufficiently equipped to -render service in return for some of the many favors which I had -received.</p> - -<p>As the ship which carried me back to the United States entered New -York Harbor I saw on my right Castle Garden; it looked the same as it -did fifteen years before, when I first entered on the immigrant ship, -and it reminded me of that earlier day. I said to my bride, who was -standing by my side, that I did not carry much more money into New -York Harbor than I did fifteen years before, when I first looked upon -Castle Garden, and yet I felt as rich as a Crœsus. I felt, I told -her, that I owned the whole of the United States, because I was sure -that the United States owned me; that I had an ideal American bride, -who had assured me that I had lived up to the standards of an ideal -American bridegroom; and that I had a fine position in a great American -institution and strong hopes of filling it to everybody’s satisfaction. -I enumerated all these and other things to my bride and wound up by -saying, jokingly: “I have also some prospects which modesty prevents me -from mentioning,” and then I added: “These are the only worldly goods -with which I thee endow.”</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>279</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="x">X<br /> -<span>THE FIRST PERIOD OF MY ACADEMIC CAREER AT COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> new “Department of Electrical Engineering in the School of Mines -of Columbia College” had announced its courses of instruction quite a -number of months before I arrived in New York. The late Francis Bacon -Crocker, at that time the newly appointed instructor in electrical -engineering and my future colleague and life-long friend, had been -consulted with regard to these courses, and he was most liberal to -the theoretical side, which was to be my share of the instruction. -He attached much importance to the fundamental theory, although he -was a practical engineer. The new department was to be independent of -the other scientific departments. We had some difficulty, however, in -maintaining that independence; the older departments of engineering -showed a disposition to claim some right of guardianship over the new -infant department. For instance, many chemists thought that electrical -engineering was largely chemistry on account of the storage batteries, -the galvanic cells, and the electrochemical processes which formed an -important part of the electrical operations in the early history of -applied electricity. Others asserted that, since mechanical engineering -attended to the design and the construction of electromagnetic -generators and to the power plant which furnished the driving power, -electrical engineering was, therefore, largely mechanical engineering.</p> - -<p>Crocker and I maintained that there is an electrical science which -is the real soul of electrical engineering,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>280</span> and that every other -abstract science or its application was an incident only in electrical -engineering. We won out in spite of the fact that at other institutions -of higher learning in the United States electrical engineering was -taught in the departments of physics or of mechanical engineering. -But it was not an easy matter in those days to persuade people that -the electrical science with its applications was then, or that it -ever would be, big enough to need a department of its own, like, for -instance, civil engineering.</p> - -<p>A small brick shed, a temporary structure, had been built at Columbia -College to accommodate the new department. The students called it the -“cowshed,” and the boy who invented the name did not indulge in any -stretching of his imagination. It certainly looked like a cowshed. The -laboratory equipment consisted of a dynamo, a motor, and an alternator, -with some so-called practical measuring instruments. When I compared -the facilities of the new “Department of Electrical Engineering at -Columbia College” with that of the Polytechnic School in Berlin, I -felt somewhat humbled, but not discouraged. I said to Crocker: “Our -guns are small and few in number; the men behind the guns will have to -expand much beyond their present size if this department is to make any -impression upon the electrical art.” “Pupin,” said Crocker, “you have -no idea how rapidly a young fellow grows when he tries to teach a new -subject to poorly prepared beginners.”</p> - -<p>Crocker and I were given to understand that any additional equipment -during the first year would have to be bought from contributions -outside of the university. We raised some money by giving a course of -twelve popular lectures for which we charged ten dollars per person. -Each lecture lasted two hours; we were somewhat dubious about their -quality, and so we provided a generous quantity. We raised in this -manner three hundred dollars<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>281</span> and bought additional equipment, but no -two young scientists ever worked harder to earn three hundred dollars. -The experience, however, was worth many times that amount. Our audience -consisted of business men and lawyers, who were either interested in -the electrical industries, or expected to become interested. They had -hardly any previous scientific training. It took much judgment and -skill to talk science to these people without shooting much above their -heads. Every one of them believed that the electrical science was in -its infancy, and that most of its useful applications were obtained -empirically by a rule of thumb. When we told them that the electrical -science was one of the most exact of all physical sciences, some shook -their heads and exhibited considerable scepticism. One of them asked -me: “Doctor, do you know what electricity is?” “No,” said I, and he -added another question: “Then how can you have an exact science of -electricity when you do not even know what electricity is?” To this -I retorted: “Do you know what matter is? Of course you do not, nor -does anybody else know it, and yet who will deny that there are exact -sciences relating to material things? Do you deny that astronomy is an -exact science?” It is a difficult thing to make unscientific people -understand that science studies first and foremost the <em>activities of -things and not their ultimate nature</em>.</p> - -<p>In that first course of public lectures I found it necessary to devote -much of my exposition to the correction of erroneous notions lodged in -the minds of my audience. When I told that audience that no electrical -generator generates electricity, because electricity was made by God -and, according to Faraday, its quantity in the universe is constant, -and that for every positive charge there is an equal negative one, -most members of my audience were inclined to think that I was talking -metaphysics. “Then what does it generate?” asked one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>282</span> my hearers. -I answered: “It generates motion of electricity, and by that motion -it furnishes us with means of doing useful work like telegraphy, -telephony, and electrical lighting.” Then I added: “The electrical -science studies the forces which make electricity move against the -reactions of the bodies through which it moves; in the overcoming of -these reactions the moving electricity does useful work.” Illustrations -from dynamics of material bodies did not help very much, because my -audience had hardly any knowledge of even the elements of Newton’s -great work, although Newton considered these elements obvious truths. -All they knew about Newton was that he had “discovered gravitation.” -When I told them that Newton had discovered the law of gravitational -action and not gravitation itself, they thought that I was splitting -hairs. I was never quite sure that those good people had carried away -much knowledge from my lectures, but I was quite sure that they had -left much knowledge with me. In trying to straighten out their notions -I straightened out my own very considerably. Crocker was right when he -said: “You have no idea how rapidly a young fellow grows when he tries -to teach a new subject to poorly prepared beginners.” That was the real -profit from our first course of public lectures.</p> - -<p>Every cultured person is expected to have an intelligent view of -literature, of the fine arts, and of the social sciences, which is -as it should be. But who has ever thought of suggesting that culture -demands an intelligent view of the primary concepts in fundamental -sciences? If cultured people had it, there would be no need to renew -periodically the tiresome topic of the alleged clash between science -and religion, and there would be much more straight thinking about -things in general. Every child in the public schools should be made -perfectly familiar with the simple experiments which illustrate the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>283</span> -fundamental elements of Newton’s divine philosophy, as Milton calls -science. Barnard, Joseph Henry, Andrew White, and the other leaders -of scientific thought in the United States, who started the great -movement in favor of higher scientific research and of a better -scientific education, had a difficult up-hill pull, because people in -high places lacked an intelligent view of science. A famous lawyer, a -trustee of a great educational institution, looked surprised when I -told him, over thirty years ago, that one cannot teach science without -laboratories both for the elementary and for the advanced instruction. -He actually believed that graduate schools in science needed only a lot -of blackboards, chalk, and sponges, and a lecturer who could prepare -his lectures by reading books. He believed what he thought would suit -him best, namely, that a university should be built on the top of a -heap of chalk, sponges, and books. These instrumentalities are cheaper -than laboratories, and that appeals to many university trustees. The -teacher who can lecture from books and not from his experience in the -laboratory is also much cheaper. But heaven help the country which -trusts its destiny to cheap men operating with cheap instrumentalities. -I gave that trustee a lecture by reciting the sermon which Tyndall -preached in the “Summary and Conclusions” of his famous lectures of -1872–1873. I was bold enough to deliver several of these lectures to -men in high places. Some liked them and some did not, but they all -agreed that I had my own opinions upon the subject and was not afraid -to express them.</p> - -<p>The American Institute of Electrical Engineers had heard of my somewhat -novel opinions regarding the teaching of the electrical science in -its bearing upon electrical engineering, and it invited me to give -an address upon the subject at its annual meeting in Boston, in the -summer of 1890. The address was entitled “Practical Aspects of the -Alternating Current Theory.” It was a eulogy<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>284</span> of the electrical -science, and particularly of Faraday, Maxwell, and Joseph Henry on the -purely scientific side, and of the technical men who were developing -the system of electrical power distribution by alternating electrical -forces. I noticed that my audience was divided into two distinct -groups; one group was cordial and appreciative, but the other was -as cold as ice. The famous electrical engineer and inventor, Elihu -Thomson, was in the friendly group, and he looked me up after the -address and congratulated me cordially. That was a great encouragement -and I felt happy. Another man, a well-known physicist and engineer, -also looked me up, and asked me whether I really expected that students -of electrical engineering could ever be trusted to swallow and digest -all the mathematical stuff which I had presented in my address. The -“mathematical stuff” to which he referred was a very elementary -theoretical illustration. I thought of my chums, the tripos youngsters -at Cambridge, and of their wonderful capacity for swallowing and -digesting “mathematical stuff,” but said nothing; the man who was -addressing me was one of those people who had a small opinion of the -capacity and willingness of our American boys to “swallow and digest” -just as much “mathematical stuff” as their English cousins do.</p> - -<p>A short time prior to my return to Columbia College, in 1889, a bitter -polemic had been carried on in the New York newspapers concerning the -two methods of electrical power distribution, the <em>direct</em> and -the <em>alternating</em> current method. The New York interests favored -the first, and another group, including the Westinghouse Company, -supported the alternating current method. The opponents of the latter -method called it the “deadly alternating current,” and did their best -to discredit it. They actually succeeded, I was told, in persuading the -State authorities to install an alternating current machine at the Sing -Sing prison, to be used in electrocution.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>285</span> When in my address at Boston -I recited my eulogy of the alternating current system I did not know of -this bitter polemic, but when I heard of it I understood the chilliness -among a part of my audience.</p> - -<p>In the following autumn I was made to understand that my address -in Boston had made a bad impression, and that it had offended the -feelings of some <em>big</em> men who were interested in the electrical -industries. I could not help seeing the glaring hint that the new -“Department of Electrical Engineering at Columbia College” was to -suffer from the fact that one of its two instructors was accused of -an unpardonable “electrical heresy.” The great and mighty person who -broached this matter to me suggested that perhaps the easiest way out -of this difficulty was my resignation. “Very well,” said I, “I will -certainly resign if the trustees of Columbia College, who appointed -me, find me guilty of a scientific heresy.” The trustees never heard -of this incident, but my colleague Crocker did, and he said in his -characteristic manner: “There are many persons to-day who would not -hesitate to burn the witch of Salem, but no persons of that kind are on -the board of trustees of Columbia College.” Crocker was a Cape Cod man -and he had a very soft spot for the witch of Salem.</p> - -<p>The notion among many captains of industry that the electrical science -was in its infancy, and that it worked by the rule of thumb, made it -possible to launch an opposition of that kind against the introduction -of the alternating current system of electrical distribution of power. -Tesla’s alternating current motor and Bradley’s rotary transformer -for changing alternating currents into direct were available at that -time. The electrical art was ready then to do many of the things which -it is doing to-day so well, if it had not been for the opposition of -people who were afraid that they would have to scrap some of their -direct current apparatus and the plants for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>286</span> manufacturing it, if the -alternating current system received any support. A most un-American -mental attitude! It was clear to every impartial and intelligent expert -that the two systems supplemented each other in a most admirable -manner, and that the advancement of one would also advance the other. -Men like Elihu Thomson and my colleague Crocker knew that, but -ignorance and false notions prevailed in the early nineties, because -the captains of electrical industries paid small attention to highly -trained electrical scientists. That explains why in those days the -barbarous steel cables were still employed to drag cars along Third -Avenue, New York, and why in 1893 I saw the preparatory work on -Columbus Avenue, New York, for installing additional barbarous steel -ropes to drag street-cars. But, fortunately, electrical traction came -to the rescue of Columbus Avenue.</p> - -<p>During the summer of 1893 I had the good fortune to meet, quite often, -William Barclay Parsons, the distinguished engineer, the future builder -of the first New York subway, and to-day the distinguished chairman -of the Board of Trustees of Columbia University. He passed the summer -vacation at Atlantic Highlands, and I at Monmouth Beach, and we used -the same steamboat in our occasional trips to New York. His head was -full of schemes for the solution of the New York rapid-transit problem, -but I observed that his ideas were not quite clear on the question of -the electrical power transmission to be employed. A very few years -later his ideas had cleared wonderfully. He had visited Budapest in -1894 and had seen there surface cars operated electrically and most -satisfactorily by an underground trolley. It was a most instructive -object-lesson, but how humiliating it was to the engineering pride -of the great United States to consult little Hungary in electrical -engineering! The electrical power transmission system employed to-day -in the New York subways is practically the same which had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>287</span> been -proposed to and accepted by Parsons, the chief engineer, not so many -years after our trips to New York, in 1893; it is the electrical -power transmission consisting of a combination of the alternating and -direct current systems. No fundamentally novel methods were employed -which did not exist at the time when the alternating current machine -was installed at Sing Sing for the purpose of electrocuting people by -the “deadly alternating current.” In less than five years a radical -change in popular notions had taken place about a matter which was well -understood from the very first by men of higher scientific training, -like Stillwell, the chief engineer of the Niagara Power Company, and -Sprague, the well-known pioneer in electrical traction, the inventor of -the multiple unit system, without which our subway would be practicably -impossible.</p> - -<p>Four historical events, very important in the annals of the electrical -science in the United States, had happened in rapid succession between -1890 and 1894. The first was the successful electrical transmission of -power between Lauffen and Frankfurt, in Germany, in 1891; it employed -the alternating current system. The second was the decision of the -Niagara Falls Power and Construction Company to employ the alternating -current system for the transmission of its electrical power; Professor -Henry Augustus Rowland, of Johns Hopkins University, as consulting -expert of the company, favored this system; another consulting -scientific expert, the famous Lord Kelvin, favored the direct current -system. The third historical event was the consolidation of the Edison -General Electric Company with the Thomson-Houston Company of Lynn, -Massachusetts. This consolidation meant the end of the opposition to -the alternating current system on the part of people who were most -influential in the electrical industries. No such opposition could -exist in an electrical corporation where Elihu Thomson’s expert<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>288</span> -opinion had any weight. The fourth historical event was the Electrical -Congress at the World Exposition in Chicago, in 1893. Helmholtz came -over as an official delegate of the German Empire, and was elected -honorary president of the congress. The subjects discussed at that -congress, and the men who discussed them, showed that the electrical -science was not in its infancy, and that electrical things were not -done by the rule of thumb.</p> - -<p>Once I asked Professor Rowland whether anybody had ever suggested to -him resigning from Johns Hopkins University on the ground that in -favoring the alternating current system for the Niagara Falls Power -Transmission plant he had made himself liable to a charge of heresy. -“Heresy?” said he; “I thought that my heresy was worth a big fee, and -when the company attempted to cut it down the courts sustained my -claim.” An interesting bit of history is attached to this. When the -Niagara Power and Construction Company objected to the size of the fee -which Rowland charged for his services as scientific adviser, and asked -for a reduction, the matter was referred to the court. During Rowland’s -cross-examination the defendant’s lawyer, the late Joseph Choate, asked -him the question: “Who, in your opinion, is the greatest physicist in -the United States?” Rowland answered without a moment’s hesitation: “I -am.” The judge smiled, but agreed with the witness, and his agreement -was in harmony with the opinion of all scientific men. Rowland -justified his apparently egotistical answer by the fact that as a -witness on the stand he was under oath to speak the truth; he certainly -spoke the truth when he testified that he was the leading physicist in -the United States.</p> - -<p>Rowland’s interest in the electrical science and its technical -applications helped much to dissipate the notion, entertained by -many, that it was empirical and still in its infancy. Bogus inventors -always encouraged this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>289</span> superstition. The attention which Rowland and -his former pupil, the late Doctor Louis Duncan, devoted to electrical -engineering at Johns Hopkins University helped much to raise the -status of electrical engineering. When the new General Electric -Company was organized by the consolidation of the Edison General -Electric Company and the Thomson-Houston Company, Elihu Thomson -became the chief scientific adviser of the new corporation, and its -highest court of appeals in scientific matters. I remember telling my -colleague, Crocker, that if the Thomson-Houston Company had contributed -nothing else than Elihu Thomson to the new corporation it would have -contributed more than enough. Thomson, in my opinion, was the American -Siemens, and Rowland was the American Helmholtz, of the new era in -the history of American industries—the era of close co-operation -between abstract science and engineering. With these two men among the -leaders of the electrical science and the electrical industry in the -United States, the senseless opposition to the alternating current -system of power distribution began to wane. It vanished quickly after -the Electrical Congress of 1893. The first visible result of the -co-operation between abstract science and the technical arts was the -splendid power plant at Niagara Falls, and later the electrical power -distribution system in the New York subways, in which the alternating -and the direct current systems supplemented each other most admirably.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="henry"> - <img src="images/facing290a-i.jpg" width="500" height="642" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">HENRY AUGUSTUS ROWLAND (1848–1901)</div> - <div class="caption">First Director of the Physics Laboratory of Johns -Hopkins University</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing290a.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>The scientific spirit of Rowland’s laboratory and lecture-room was -felt everywhere in the electrical industries; it was felt also in our -educational institutions. His and his students’ researches in solar -spectra and in other problems of higher physics made that spirit the -dominating influence among the rising generation of physical science in -America. It was universally acknowledged that Johns Hopkins was a real -university. The intellectual movement in favor of higher scientific -research, first inaugurated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>290</span> by Joseph Henry, President Barnard -of Columbia College, and Doctor John William Draper, in the early -seventies, was marching on steadily under the leadership of Rowland -when I started my academic career at Columbia, thirty-four years ago, -and he led on like a “doughty knight of Troy,” as Maxwell used to call -him. It was the spirit of Johns Hopkins which inspired the generation -of the early nineties in its encouragement of the movement for the -development of the American university. Some enthusiasts at Columbia -College went even so far as to advocate the abolition of the college -curriculum and the substitution of a Columbia University for Columbia -College; I was not among these enthusiasts, because I knew only too -well the historical value of Columbia College and of other American -colleges. What would the University of Cambridge be without its ancient -colleges? College lays the foundation for higher citizenship; the -university lays the foundation for higher learning.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="james"> - <img src="images/facing290b-alt-i.jpg" width="500" height="642" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"><i>By courtesy of the Columbia University Library</i></div> - <div class="caption">JAMES CLERK MAXWELL (1831–1879)</div> - <div class="caption">First Director of the Cavendish Laboratory at - Cambridge University</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing290b-alt.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Speaking for physical sciences I can say that in those days there was -no lack of trained scientists who could easily have extended the work -of the American college, and added to it a field of advanced work -resembling closely the activity of the European universities. Most -of these men had received their higher academic training in European -universities, and quite a number of them came from Johns Hopkins. -But there were two obstacles: first, lack of experimental-research -facilities; second, lack of leisure for scientific research. Rowland -and his followers recognized the existence of these obstacles, and -demanded reform. Most of the energy of the teachers of physical -sciences was consumed in the lecture-room; they were pedagogues, -“pouring information into passive recipients,” as Barnard described it. -My own case was a typical one. How could I do any research as long as -I had at my disposal a dynamo, a motor, an alternator, and a few crude -measuring instruments only, all intended<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>291</span> to be used every day for the -instruction of electrical-engineering students? When the professor of -engineering died, in the summer of 1891, a part of his work, theory -of heat and hydraulics, was assigned to me. The professor of dynamics -died a little later, and his work also was transferred to me. I was to -carry the additional load of lecture-room work temporarily, but was -relieved from it, in part only, after several years. As a reward my -title was advanced to adjunct professor, with an advance of salary to -two thousand five hundred dollars per annum. But in return for this -<em>royal</em> salary I had to lecture three to four hours each forenoon, -and help in the electrical laboratory instruction in the afternoons. -While this pedagogic load was on my back scientific research could -not be seriously thought of. My young colleagues in other colleges -were similarly situated. This overloading of young scientists with -pedagogic work threatened to stunt, and often did stunt, their growth -and also the growth of the rising American university. “Let chairs be -founded, sufficiently but not luxuriously endowed, which shall have -original research for their main object and ambition,” was the historic -warning which Tyndall addressed to the American people in 1873, but -in 1893 there was little evidence that it was heeded anywhere outside -of Johns Hopkins University. But there they had Rowland and a number -of other stars of the first magnitude who had succeeded Joseph Henry, -Barnard, and Draper as leaders of the great movement in favor of higher -scientific research. In 1883 Rowland delivered a memorable address as -vice-president of one of the sections of the American Association for -the Advancement of Science. It was entitled, “A Plea for Pure Science,” -and described the spirit not only of Johns Hopkins of those days but -also of all friends of higher learning in science. That spirit was -advocated here by Tyndall in 1872–1873, and under Rowland’s leadership -it was bound<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>292</span> to win our battle for higher ideals in science. The -people of the United States owe a great debt of gratitude to Johns -Hopkins for the leadership in that great movement which, as we see -to-day, has produced a most remarkable intellectual advancement in -this country. Nearly thirty years ago I heard Rowland say in a public -address: “They always say in Baltimore that no man in that city should -die without leaving something to Johns Hopkins.” When he said it -he knew that Johns Hopkins was very poor. It is poorer to-day than -ever, and no rich man in the United States should die without leaving -something to Johns Hopkins, the pioneer university of the United States.</p> - -<p>Rowland said once that lack of experimental facilities and of time -was not a valid excuse for neglecting entirely scientific research. I -agreed with that opinion; neglect breeds indifference, and indifference -degenerates into atrophy of the spirit of inquiry. The alternating -current machine of the electrical engineering laboratory at Columbia -was free in the evenings, and so was my time; that is, if my wife -should not object, and, being a noble and unselfish woman, she did not -object. With the assistance of several enthusiastic students, among -them Gano Dunn, to-day one of the most distinguished engineers in the -United States, I started investigating the passage of electricity -through various gases at low pressures, and published two papers in the -<cite>American Journal of Science</cite>. I soon discovered that most of my -results had been anticipated by Professor J. J. Thomson, of Cambridge, -who, in all probability, had received his inspiration from the same -source from which I had received mine. He not only had anticipated me -but, moreover, he showed a much better grasp of the subject than I had, -and had much better experimental facilities. I decided to leave the -field to him, and to watch his beautiful work from the outside. It was -a wise decision, because it prepared me<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>293</span> to understand the epoch-making -discoveries in this field which were soon to be announced, one in -Germany and one in France. I turned my attention to another field.</p> - -<p>I must mention, however, one of the results which Thomson had not -anticipated and which created quite an impression among astronomers. I -noticed a peculiar appearance in the electrical discharge proceeding -from a small metal sphere which was located in the centre of a large -glass sphere containing air at low pressure. The discharges looked very -much like the luminous corona of the sun which astronomers observe -during eclipses, and which was always a mysterious puzzle in solar -physics. Pasting a tin-foil disk on the glass sphere, so as to hide -the metal sphere and see only the discharge proceeding from it, I -photographed the appearance of the discharge and obtained the pictures -given opposite page 294. The resemblance of these photographs to those -of the two types of the solar corona is most striking. This is what I -said about it at that time:</p> - -<p>“The bearing which these experimental results may have upon the theory -of the solar corona I prefer to leave to others to decide. That they -may prove a suggestive guide in the study of solar phenomena seems not -unreasonable to expect.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="electrical"> - <img src="images/facing294a-i.jpg" width="500" height="255" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">ELECTRICAL DISCHARGES REPRESENTING TWO TYPES OF SOLAR - CORONÆ</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing294a.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="solar"> - <img src="images/facing294b-i.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">SOLAR CORONA OF 1922</div> - <div class="caption">Photographed by the Lick Observatory Expedition to Australia</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing294b.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>In a communication read later before the New York Academy of Sciences -I was much bolder, having previously discussed the subject with my -friends at Johns Hopkins and with the late Professor Young, the famous -astronomer at Princeton. I soon found myself advocating strongly the -electromagnetic theory of solar phenomena. A German professor, Ebert by -name, a well-known authority on electrical discharges in gases, took -me very seriously indeed, which was very flattering, but he claimed -priority. I had no difficulty in establishing my priority through the -columns of <cite>Astronomy and Astro-Physics</cite>, one of whose editors was -George Ellery Hale,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>294</span> to-day the distinguished director of Mount Wilson -Observatory. I was indeed fortunate to make his acquaintance during -that period when both he and I were very young men. His influence -prevented me from running wild with my electromagnetic theory of -solar phenomena. Thanks to the splendid astro-physical researches -at the Mount Wilson Observatory in California under Doctor Hale’s -direction, we know to-day that enormous electrical currents circulate -on the surface of the sun, and we know also from other researches that -negative electricity is shot out from all hot bodies, even from those -not nearly as hot as the sun, and that the solar corona is, in all -probability, closely related to this electrical activity on the sun.</p> - -<p>After giving up the subject of electrical discharges in gases I -looked around for another problem of research which I could manage -with my meagre laboratory facilities. Rowland had found distortions -in an alternating current when that current was magnetizing iron in -electrical power apparatus. This distortion consisted of the addition -of higher harmonics to the normal harmonic changes in the current. -This reminded me of harmonics in musical instruments and in the human -voice. Helmholtz was the first to analyze the vowels in human speech by -studying the harmonics which they contained. The vowel o, for instance, -sung at a given pitch, contains in addition to its fundamental -pitch—say one hundred vibrations per second—other vibrations the -frequencies of which are integral multiples of one hundred, that is -two, three, four, ... hundred vibrations per second. These higher -vibrations are called harmonics of the fundamental. Helmholtz detected -these harmonics by the employment of acoustical resonators; it was an -epoch-making research. I proceeded to search for a similar procedure -for the analysis of Rowland’s distorted alternating currents, and I -found it. I constructed electrical<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>295</span> resonators based upon dynamical -principles similar to those in the acoustical resonators employed by -Helmholtz. These electrical resonators play a most important part in -the radio art of to-day, and a few words regarding their operation -seem desirable. In fact, there is to-day a cry from the Atlantic -to the Pacific on the part of millions of people who wish to know -what they are really doing when they are turning a knob on their -radio-receiving sets in order to find the correct wave length for a -certain broadcasting station. I am responsible for the operation, and I -owe them an explanation of it.</p> - -<p>The mass and form of an elastic body, say a tuning-fork, and its -stiffness determine the pitch, the so-called <em>frequency</em> of -vibration. When a periodically varying force, say a wave of sound, -acts upon the tuning-fork, the maximum motion of the prongs will be -produced when the pitch or frequency of the moving force is equal -to the frequency of the tuning-fork. The two are said then to be in -resonance, that is, the motion of the fork resonates to or synchronizes -with the action of the force. Every elastic structure has a frequency -of its own. The column of air in an organ-pipe has a frequency of its -own; so has the string of a piano. One can excite the motion of each -by singing a note of the same frequency; a note of a considerably -different frequency excites practically no motion at all. Acoustical -resonance phenomena are too well known to need here any further -comment. There are also electrical resonance phenomena very similar to -those of acoustical resonance. If you understand one of them there is -no difficulty in understanding the other.</p> - -<p>If an electrical conductor, say a copper wire, is coiled up so as -to form a coil of many turns, and its terminals are connected to a -condenser, that is to conducting plates which are separated from each -other by insulating material, then the motion of electricity in that -conducting circuit is subject to the same laws as the motion of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"></a>296</span> -prongs of a tuning-fork. Every motion, whether of electricity or of -matter, is determined completely by the force which produces the -motion, and by the forces with which the moving object reacts against -the motion. If the law of action of these several forces is the same in -the case of moving matter as in the case of moving electricity, then -their motions also will be the same. The moving forces are called the -<em>action</em> and the opposing forces are called the <em>reaction</em>, -and Newton’s third law of motion says: <em>Action is equal to the -opposing reaction</em>. I always considered this the most fundamental -law in all physical sciences. It is applicable to all motions no -matter what the thing is which moves, whether ponderable matter or -imponderable electricity. Twenty-six years ago a student of mine, -Albert R. Gallatin, brother of the present park commissioner of New -York, presented a large induction coil to the electrical laboratory -at Columbia College in recognition of my services to him, because, -he said, this formulation of the fundamental law in the electrical -science, which I have just given, made everything very clear to him. -This was most encouraging to a young professor, and it goes without -saying that ever since that time he and I have been warm friends. -He is a banker and I am still a professor, but the interest in the -fundamental principles in physical sciences are a strong bond of union -between us.</p> - -<p>The electrical force which moves the electricity in the circuit, just -described, experiences two principal reactions. One reaction is due -to the lines of electrical force which, attached to the electrical -charge on the condenser plates, are crowded into the insulating space -between these plates. This reaction corresponds to the elastic reaction -of the prongs of the tuning-fork, and follows the same law. In the -case of the tuning-fork the <em>elastic reaction is proportional to -the displacement</em> of the prongs from their normal position; in the -electrical case the reacting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"></a>297</span> force is proportional to the electrical -charges which have been pulled apart, the negative from the positive, -and driven to the plates of the condenser. Call this separation -<em>electrical displacement</em>, and the law can be given the same -form as above, namely: <em>The reacting force is proportional to the -electrical displacement</em>. The greater the distance between the -plates, and the smaller their surface, the greater is the reaction for -a given electrical displacement. By varying these two quantities we can -vary the electrical yielding, the so-called capacity, of the electrical -condenser. This is what you do when you turn the knob and vary the -capacity of the condenser in your receiving set.</p> - -<p>The moving prongs have a momentum, and a change in the momentum opposes -a reacting force, the so-called inertia reaction, which is equal to the -rate of this change. This was discovered by Galileo over three hundred -years ago. We experience the operation of this law every time we bump -against a moving object. The Irish sailor who, after describing the -accident which made him fall from the mast, assured his friends that -it was not the fall which hurt him but the sudden stop, appreciated -fully the reacting force due to a rapid change of momentum. Every boy -and girl in the public schools should know Galileo’s fundamental law, -and they would know it if by a few simple experiments it were taught -to them. But how many teachers really teach it? How many of my readers -really know that law? Just think of it, what an impeachment it is of -our modern system of education to have so many intelligent men and -women, boys and girls, ignorant of so fundamental a law as that which -Galileo discovered so long ago!</p> - -<p>The moving electricity has a momentum. The magnetic lines of force -produced by this motion are a measure of this momentum. Their change -is opposed by a reacting force equal to the rate of this change. This -was discovered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"></a>298</span> by Faraday nearly a hundred years ago. The larger the -number of turns in the coil of wire the larger will be the momentum for -a given electrical motion, that is, for a given electrical current. But -how can anybody understand very clearly this beautiful law, discovered -by Faraday, who does not understand Galileo’s simpler discovery? The -fact that electricity, just like matter, has inertia, and that both -obey the same law of inertia, is one of the most beautiful discoveries -in science. Whenever I thought that so many intelligent and cultured -people knew nothing about it I rebelled against the educational system -of modern civilization.</p> - -<p>The motion of electricity in the conductor described above overcomes -reacting forces which follow the same laws as the motion of the elastic -prongs of the tuning-fork. The motion of one has, therefore, an analogy -in the motion of the other. In an electrical circuit having a coil -and a condenser the moving electricity has a definite inertia and a -definite electrical stiffness; hence it will have a definite pitch -or frequency for its vibratory motion, just like a tuning-fork; it -will act as a resonator. It is obvious, therefore, that an electrical -resonator, the pitch of which can be adjusted by adjusting its coil -or its condenser or both, is a perfect parallel to the acoustical -resonator. By means of an electrical resonator of this kind, having an -adjustable coil and an adjustable condenser, I succeeded in detecting -every one of the harmonics in Rowland’s distorted alternating currents, -in the same manner in which Helmholtz detected the harmonics in the -vowel sounds, but with much greater ease, because the pitch of an -electrical resonator can be very easily and accurately changed by -adjusting its coil and condenser. There are millions of people to-day -who are doing that very thing when they are turning the knobs on -their radio receiving sets, adjusting them to the wave-length of the -transmitting station. The expression, “adjusting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"></a>299</span> them to the pitch -or frequency of the transmitting station,” is much better, because -it reminds the operator of the analogy existing between acoustical -and electrical resonance. The procedure was inaugurated thirty years -ago in the “cowshed” of old Columbia College. I called it “electrical -tuning” and the name has stuck to it down to the present time. The -word “tuning” was suggested by the operation which the Serbian -bagpiper performs when he tunes up his bagpipes, which I watched with -a lively interest in my boyhood days. Those early impressions had made -acoustical and electrical resonance appear to me later as obvious -things.</p> - -<p>The results of this research were published in the <cite>American Journal -of Science</cite> and also in the <cite>Transactions of the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers for 1894</cite>. They, I was told, -had never been anticipated; and they confirmed fully Rowland’s views -concerning the magnetic reaction of iron when subjected to the magnetic -action of an alternating current. When Helmholtz visited this country -in 1893, I showed him my electrical resonators and the research which -I was conducting with their assistance. He was quite impressed by the -striking similarity between his acoustical resonance analysis and -my electrical resonance analysis, and urged me to push on the work -and repeat his early experiments in acoustical resonance, because my -electrical method was much more convenient than his acoustical method.</p> - -<p>Helmholtz was always interested in the analysis as well as in the -synthesis of vibrations corresponding to articulate speech. The -telephone and the phonograph were two inventions which always enjoyed -his admiring attention. During his visit in America he looked forward -with much pleasure to meeting Graham Bell and Edison. The simplicity of -their inventions astonished him, because one would hardly have expected -that a simple disk could vibrate so as to reproduce faithfully all the -complex vibrations<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"></a>300</span> which are necessary for articulation. He spent a -Sunday afternoon as my guest at Monmouth Beach and in the course of -conversation I told him what impression the telephone had made upon me -when I first listened through it. It happened during the period when I -was serving my apprenticeship as greenhorn, and when I was trying hard -to master the articulation of the English language. The telephone plate -repeated perfectly everything spoken at the other end, and I said to -myself: “These Americans are too clever for me; they can make a plain -steel plate articulate much better than I can ever expect to do it -with all my speaking organs. I had better return to Idvor and become -a herdsman again.” Helmholtz laughed heartily and assured me that the -articulating telephone plate had made a similar impression upon him, -although he had spent several years of his life studying the theory of -articulation. “The phonograph disk is just as clever as the telephone -disk,” said Helmholtz, “perhaps even more so, because it has to dig -hard while it is busily talking.”</p> - -<p>My scientific friends in New York saw in the construction of my -electrical resonator and in its employment for selective detection -of alternating currents of definite frequency a very suitable means -for practising harmonic telegraphy, first suggested by Graham Bell, -the inventor of the telephone. They finally persuaded me to apply for -a patent and I did so. I often regretted it, because it involved me -in a most expensive and otherwise annoying legal contest. Two other -inventors had applied for a patent on the same invention. One of them -was an American, and the other a French inventor, and each of them was -backed by a powerful industrial corporation. A college professor with -a salary of two thousand five hundred dollars per annum cannot stand a -long legal contest when opposed by two powerful corporations; but it -is a curious psychological fact that when one’s claim<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"></a>301</span> to an invention -is disputed he will fight for it just as a tigress would fight for her -cub. The fight lasted nearly eight years and I won it. I was declared -to be the inventor, and the patent was granted to me. But a patent is -a piece of paper worth nothing until somebody needs the invention. -I waited a long time before that somebody came, and when he finally -showed up I had almost forgotten that I had made the invention. In the -meantime I had nothing but a piece of paper for all my pains, which -nearly wrecked me financially.</p> - -<p>Just about that time the newspapers reported that a young Italian -student by the name of Marconi, while experimenting with Hertzian -waves, had demonstrated that a Hertzian oscillator will send out -electrical waves which will penetrate much longer distances when one -of its sides is connected to earth. “Of course it will,” said I, “the -grounded oscillator takes the earth into closer partnership.” When as -a herdsman’s assistant on the pasturelands of my native Idvor I stuck -my knife into the ground and struck its wooden handle, I knew perfectly -well that the ground was a part of the vibrating system, and that the -sound-producing stroke was taken up by the ground much better than when -I struck the knife-handle without sticking the knife into the ground. -But I also knew that unless the boy who was listening pressed his ear -against the ground he would not hear very much. It was, therefore, -quite obvious to me that the best detector for a Hertzian oscillator -which is grounded must be another Hertzian oscillator which is also -connected to the ground. Grounding of the sending and of the receiving -Hertzian oscillators was in fact the fundamental claim of the Marconi -invention. Marconi, in my opinion, was unwittingly imitating the young -herdsmen of Idvor when, figuratively speaking, he stuck his electrical -knives into the ground for the purpose of transmitting and receiving -electrical vibrations, but the imitation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"></a>302</span> was a very clever one; very -obvious indeed as soon as it was pointed out, like all clever things.</p> - -<p>Every now and then we are told that wireless signals might be sent -some day to the planet Mars. The judgment of a former herdsman of -Idvor considers these suggestions unscientific for the simple reason -that we cannot get a ground on the planet Mars and, therefore, cannot -take it into close partnership with our Hertzian oscillators. Without -that partnership there is no prospect of covering great distances. A -very simple experiment will illustrate this. Scratch the wood of a -pencil and ask your friends who are sitting around a table whether -they hear the scratching. They will say “No.” Put the pencil on the -table and scratch it again; your friends will tell you that they can -hear it faintly. Ask them to press their ears against the table and -they will tell you that the scratching sound is very loud. In the -third case the pencil, the table, and the ears of your friends are all -one closely interconnected vibratory system. Every herdsman of Idvor -would interpret correctly the physical meaning of this experiment. “If -Marconi had waited just a little longer I should have done his trick -myself,” I said jokingly to Crocker, and then I temporarily dismissed -the matter from my mind as if nothing had happened. But I was fairly -confident that my electrical resonators would some day find a useful -application in this new method of signalling, and Crocker was even more -hopeful than I was. I turned my attention to another problem and would -have completed its solution, if my work had not been interrupted by the -announcement of a most remarkable discovery made in Germany, I mean the -discovery of the Roentgen rays.</p> - -<p>I cannot describe the effects of this epoch-making discovery without -referring again to great Helmholtz. It was due to his initiative -that Hertz took up the research of electrical oscillations, which -suggested to Marconi<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"></a>303</span> their technical application. This started a new -technical art, wireless telegraphy, which developed into the radio -art. Without Helmholtz, not only the experimental verification of the -Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory but also the radio art might -have been delayed quite a long time. I shall point out now that the -great discovery of the Roentgen rays also was due in a great measure to -the initiative of Helmholtz.</p> - -<p>While in Berlin I was conducting a research upon vapor pressures of -salt solutions. For this purpose I needed the assistance of a clever -glass-blower. A Herr Mueller was recommended to me by the people of the -Physical Institute. I paid frequent visits to him, not only because I -liked to watch his wonderful skill in glass-blowing, but also because -he knew and entertained me often with the history of a remarkable -physical research which had been carried out by Doctor Goldstein, a -Berlin physicist, under the auspices of the German Academy of Sciences, -Herr Mueller, the glass-blowing artist, assisting.</p> - -<p>The motion of electricity through rarefied gases was first extensively -studied in Germany in the fifties and sixties by several investigators. -Hittorf was one of them, and I mention him here for reasons given -later. The English physicists took up the subject a little later, -and among them Crookes did the most distinguished work. His tubes -with a very high vacuum gave brilliant cathode rays, first discovered -by Hittorf, which produced among other things the well-known -phosphorescence in vacuum tubes made of uranium glass. In spite of -the surpassing beauty of the electrical phenomena in vacuum tubes -revealed by Crookes’s experiments, no final and definite conclusions -could be drawn from them toward the end of the seventies. But he was -undoubtedly the first who correctly inferred that the cathode rays -were small electrified particles moving with very high velocity. This -inference proved to be of very great importance. In 1893<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"></a>304</span> Lord Kelvin -said: “If the first step toward understanding the relations between -ether and ponderable matter is to be made, it seems to me that the -most hopeful foundation for it is knowledge derived from experiment on -electricity in high vacuum.” This was the very opinion which Helmholtz -had formulated fifteen years earlier, and he persuaded the German -Academy of Sciences to make a special grant for a thorough experimental -review of the whole field of research relating to electrical motions -in high vacua. Doctor Goldstein was selected to carry out this work. -Mueller was his glass-blower. The most important result of this work -was the discovery of the so-called <em>Canal Rays</em>, that is, motion -of positive electricity in the direction opposite to the motion of -negative electricity, the latter being the cause of the <em>cathode -rays</em>. To get that result Mueller had to make innumerable vacuum -tubes of all sorts of shapes. He told me that if all these tubes could -be resurrected they would fill the house in which his shop was located. -“But the grand result was worth all the trouble, and I am proud that -I did all the glass-blowing,” said Mueller, with a triumphant light -in his eyes, and his beaming countenance testified that he felt what -he said. He was an artisan who loved his craft; and, judging from his -remarkable knowledge of all the vacuum-tube researches which had been -conducted up to the time of his co-operation with Doctor Goldstein, I -inferred that he was a unique combination of the science and the art -involved in the job which he was doing for Doctor Goldstein. Mueller -was the first to arouse my interest in the results of vacuum-tube -researches, and I always considered him one of my distinguished -teachers in Berlin. New knowledge is not confined to the lecture-rooms -of a great university; it can often be found in most humble shops, -treasured by humble people who are quite unconscious that they are -the guardians of a precious treasure. Mueller was one of these humble -guardians.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"></a>305</span> -The importance of Goldstein’s work was due principally to the fact -that it brought into the field three other German physicists of -great acumen. The first one was Hertz. Several years after he had -completed his splendid experimental verification of the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory, he showed that the cathode rays penetrated -easily through thin films of metal, like gold and aluminum foil, -although these films were perfectly opaque to ordinary light. It was -a novel and most important contribution to our knowledge of cathode -rays, and would have been followed up by more additional knowledge -if Hertz had not died on January 1, 1894, at the age of thirty-six. -Helmholtz died several months later. Science never suffered a greater -loss in so short an interval of time. Helmholtz met with an accident -on the ship on his return trip from the United States in 1893. He -never completely recovered, although he lectured at the University of -Berlin until a few days before his sudden death in the mid-summer of -1894. Autopsy revealed that one side of his brain was and had been in a -pathological state for a long time, but nobody had ever observed that -his intellectual power had shown any signs of decay. It is a pity that -he did not live another two years; he would have seen what he told me -during his visit here he longed to see, and that is an electrified body -moving at a very high velocity suddenly reversing its motion. That, he -thought, might furnish a direct experimental test of the mobility of -ether. The discovery described below furnished such a body.</p> - -<p>Hertz’s work was continued and greatly extended by Professor Lenard -of the University of Kiel. He would have undoubtedly reached the -final goal if Roentgen had not announced, in December, 1895, that he, -experimenting with Lenard vacuum tubes, had discovered the X-rays. -This discovery marked the last step in the survey which Goldstein, -under the initiative of Helmholtz, had undertaken some fifteen years -before Roentgen had entered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"></a>306</span> the field of electrical discharges in -high vacua. It was a great triumph for German science. The science of -electrical discharges in rarefied gases was started in Germany and in -less than forty years it had reached there its highest point. It is a -science which may justly be said to have been “made in Germany,” just -as the science of radiation. It started a new and most remarkable era -in physical sciences by extending the meaning of the Faraday-Maxwell -electromagnetic theory.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="sirjj"> - <img src="images/facing306a-i.jpg" width="500" height="649" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">SIR J. J. THOMSON (1856——)</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing306a.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>No other discovery within my lifetime had ever aroused the interest -of the world as did the discovery of the X-rays. Every physicist -dropped his own research problems and rushed headlong into the -research of the X-rays. The physicists of the United States had paid -only small attention to vacuum-tube discharges. To the best of my -knowledge and belief I was at that time the only physicist here who -had had any laboratory experience with vacuum-tube research, and I -got it by overtime work in the electrical-engineering laboratory of -Columbia College. I undertook it because my intercourse with Mueller, -the glass-blower of Berlin, directed my attention to this field -of research, and particularly because I did not see that with the -equipment of that laboratory I could do anything else. I decided, as -mentioned above, to leave the field to Professor J. J. Thomson, of -Cambridge, and to watch his work. When, therefore, Roentgen’s discovery -was first announced I was, it seems, better prepared than anybody else -in this country to repeat his experiments and succeeded, therefore, -sooner than anybody else on this side of the Atlantic. I obtained the -first X-ray photograph in America on January 2, 1896, two weeks after -the discovery was announced in Germany.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="wilhelm"> - <img src="images/facing306b-i.jpg" width="500" height="660" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">WILHELM KONRAD RŒNTGEN (1845–1923)</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing306b.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Many interesting stories have been told about the rush to the West -during the gold-fever period, caused by the discovery of gold in the -far West. The rush into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307"></a>307</span> X-ray experimentation was very similar, and -I also caught the fever badly. Newspaper reporters and physicians -heard of it, and I had to lock myself up in my laboratory, which -was in the cellar of President Low’s official residence at Columbia -College, in order to protect myself from continuous interruptions. The -physicians brought all kinds of cripples for the purpose of having -their bones photographed or examined by means of the fluorescent -screen. The famous surgeon, the late Doctor Bull of New York, sent -me a patient with nearly a hundred small shot in his left hand. His -name was Prescott Hall Butler, a well-known lawyer of New York, who -had met with an accident and received in his hand the full charge of -a shotgun. He was in agony; he and I had mutual friends who begged me -to make an X-ray photograph of his hand and thus enable Doctor Bull -to locate the numerous shot and extract them. The first attempts were -unsuccessful, because the patient was too weak and too nervous to stand -a photographic exposure of nearly an hour. My good friend, Thomas -Edison, had sent me several most excellent fluorescent screens, and by -their fluorescence I could see the numerous little shot and so could -my patient. The combination of the screen and the eyes was evidently -much more sensitive than the photographic plate. I decided to try a -combination of Edison’s fluorescent screen and the photographic plate. -The fluorescent screen was placed on the photographic plate and the -patient’s hand was placed upon the screen. The X-rays acted upon the -screen first and the screen by its fluorescent light acted upon the -plate. The combination succeeded, even better than I had expected. A -beautiful photograph was obtained with an exposure of a few seconds. -The photographic plate showed the numerous shot as if they had been -drawn with pen and ink. Doctor Bull operated and extracted every -one of them in the course of a short and easy surgical operation.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308"></a>308</span> -Prescott Hall Butler was well again. That was the first X-ray picture -obtained by that process during the first part of February, 1896, -and it was also the first surgical operation performed in America -under the guidance of an X-ray picture. This process of shortening -the time of exposure is now universally used, but nobody gives me -any credit for the discovery, although I described it in the journal -<cite>Electricity</cite>, of February 12, 1896, before anybody else had even -thought of it. Prescott Hall Butler was much more appreciative and he -actually proposed, when other offers to reward me for my efforts were -refused, to establish a fellowship for me at the Century Club, the -fellowship to entitle me to two toddies daily for the rest of my life. -This offer also was refused.</p> - -<p>On March 2, 1896, the late Professor Arthur Gordon Webster, of Clark -University, Worcester, Massachusetts, -<a id="addressed"></a><ins title="Original has 'adressed'">addressed</ins> -a letter to the <cite>Worcester Gazette</cite>, from which I quote:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Sunday morning I went with Professor Pupin to his laboratory to -try the effect of a fluorescent screen in front of the plate. I -placed my hand under the bulb and in five minutes the current was -stopped.... The result was the best plate that I had yet seen.... One -who has tried the experiments and seen how long it takes to obtain a -good result can judge of an improvement. I think that Doctor Pupin -should enjoy the credit of having actually ... shortened the time of -exposure ten and twenty times.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="noi">A description of the improvement, which I published in final -form in <cite>Electricity</cite>, of April 15, 1896, ends with the following -sentence:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>My only object in working on the improvement of the Roentgen ray -photography was for the purpose of widening its scope of application -to surgical diagnosis. I think that I have succeeded completely and I -wish full credit for the work done.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>My friends suggested that I apply for a patent on the procedure and -enforce recognition that way, but I was having one expensive experience -in the patent office with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309"></a>309</span> my electrical resonators and did not care to -add another.</p> - -<p>The question of reflection and refraction of the X-rays had to -be answered, and several strange claims were brought forward by -investigators. My investigations of this matter, aided by Thomas -Edison’s most efficient fluorescent screen, resulted in a discovery, -which, in a communication to the New York Academy of Sciences, on April -6, 1896, I summed up as follows: “<em>Every substance when subjected -to the action of X-rays becomes a radiator of these rays</em>.” The -communication was published in several scientific journals, like -<cite>Science</cite> and <cite>Electricity</cite>, and no statement can claim the -discovery of the now well-known secondary X-ray radiation more clearly -than the one given above. But of this matter I shall speak a little -later.</p> - -<p>Looking up some data lately I found that I had finished writing out -these communications relating to my X-ray research on April 14, 1896. -I also found a reprint of an address delivered before the New York -Academy of Sciences in April, 1895, and published in <cite>Science</cite> -of December 28, 1895, at the very time when the X-ray fever broke -out. It was entitled: “Tendencies of Modern Electrical Research.” But -the X-ray fever prevented me from reading it when it was published. -I saw it three months later, but never again since that time, and -I had forgotten that I had ever composed it. I find now that the -picture which I had drawn then of the growth of the electromagnetic -theory is in every detail the same as that which I have given in this -narrative. Both of them are due to the lasting impressions received in -Cambridge and in Berlin. Evidently these impressions are just as strong -to-day as they were twenty-eight years ago, proving that the tablets -of memory have a mysterious process of preserving their records. I -remember that on April 14, 1896, I did not go to the laboratory, but -stayed at home and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310"></a>310</span> reflected, and read my address mentioned above. I -took an inventory of what I had done during my six years’ activity at -Columbia and I closed the books satisfied with the results. My wife, -who had helped me, writing out my reports, lectures, and scientific -communications, and who knew and watched every bit of the work which -I was doing, also was satisfied, and congratulated me. My colleague -Crocker, I knew, was satisfied, and so were all my scientific friends, -and that was a source of much satisfaction. But nothing makes one as -happy as his own honest belief that he has done his best.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311"></a>311</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<h2 id="xi">XI<br /> -<span>THE RISE OF IDEALISM IN AMERICAN SCIENCE</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">I must</span> make a digression now, to arrange suitable contacts between the -preceding parts of my narrative and its concluding chapters. The main -object of my narrative has been to describe the rise of idealism in -American science, and particularly in physical sciences and the related -industries. I witnessed this gradual development; everything I have -written so far is an attempt to qualify as a witness whose testimony -has competence and weight. But there are many other American scientists -whose opinions in this matter have more competence and weight than -my opinion has. Why, then, should a scientist who started his career -as a Serbian immigrant speak of the idealism in American science, -when there are so many native-born American scientists who know more -about this subject than I do? Those who have read my narrative so far -may answer this question. I shall only point out now that there are -certain psychological elements in this question which justify me in the -belief that occasionally an immigrant can see things which escape the -attention of the native. Seeing is believing; let him speak who has the -faith, provided he has a message to deliver.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A foreign-born citizen of the United States has many occasions to -sing praises of the virtues of this country which the native-born -citizen has not. Such occasions arise whenever the foreign-born citizen -revisits his native land and hears opinions about America which are -based upon European prejudice born of ignorance. On<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312"></a>312</span> these occasions he -can, if the spirit moves him, say many things with much more grace than -a native American could. The spirit will move him if his naturalization -means that he knows America’s traditions and embraces their precepts -with sincere enthusiasm. Statements which, coming from a native -American, might sound as boasts and bragging, may and often do sound -different when they are made by a naturalized American citizen. I have -had quite a number of experiences of this kind; one of them deserves -mention here.</p> - -<p>Four years ago, while visiting my native land, I was invited to attend -a festive public meeting in a town not far from my native village. It -was the town of Panchevo, where in my boyhood days I went to school, -and where from my Slovenian teacher, Kos, I had heard for the first -time of Benjamin Franklin and of his kite. The earliest parts of this -narrative show that many memories of my boyhood days had nourished -in my heart an affectionate regard for this historic town. Panchevo -reciprocated, and hence the invitation. There was another reason. In -March of 1919, the chairman of the Yugoslav delegation at the Paris -peace conference invited me to go to Paris, expecting that with my -knowledge of the English language and of the Anglo-Saxon mentality I -could probably assist the delegation in its work. I spent seven weeks -in Paris. The result, I was assured by Premier Pashitch of Serbia, -was very satisfactory; and he invited me to go to Belgrade as guest -of the government, for the purpose of studying the condition of the -war orphans in Serbia. This study resulted in the organization of the -Serbian Child Welfare Association of America, whose splendid work -is known and appreciated in every part of the Serbian nation. When -Panchevo heard that I was in Belgrade it sent me the invitation.</p> - -<p>The literary society of Panchevo, called the Academy, had arranged a -gala public session, and the occasion was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313"></a>313</span> the “Wilson Day,” which -the town was celebrating. The orator of the day was a young Slovene, -a learned lawyer and man of letters. The subject of his oration was: -“President Wilson and his fourteen points.” He wound up his splendid -eulogy of President Wilson by exclaiming: “<em>President Wilson is an -oasis of idealism in the endless desert of materialism</em>.” The image -of my old friend Bilharz, the hermit of Cortlandt Street, suddenly -appeared before me, and his favorite phrase “American materialism” rang -violently in my ears. I was afraid that the United States of America -would be understood to be a part of the endless desert mentioned by the -speaker, and the possibility of such an inference I did not like. A -most enthusiastic and long-continued applause greeted this oratorical -climax, and before the applause was over the chairman, who was the -mayor of the town, approached me and asked whether I should like to -address a few words to the great assembly of the intellectuals of the -town. “I not only like to do it,” said I, “but I insist upon it.” The -chairman looked pleased, because he could not help observing that the -orator’s concluding figure of speech had stirred me up considerably, -and that my response to it might add a few lively notes to the rather -monotonous programme of the Academy session.</p> - -<p>I repeat here some of the sentiments which I expressed on that occasion:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>President Wilson is an idealist, and his idealism commands my deepest -respect and admiration. I deny, however, that he represents an “oasis -of idealism in an endless desert of materialism,” that is, if the -United States of America are understood to be a part of this endless -desert. I am sure that in this town, liberated only a few months ago -from the Austrian yoke, the expression “materialism” cannot refer -to the United States of America. Two million American soldiers were -fighting on the Western front when, a few months ago, the armistice -was signed; several million more were waiting in America for their -turn to join the ranks of the allied armies in France. American -industries and American savings made a supreme effort to brace up -the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314"></a>314</span> allied cause, and the war was won. Go to Paris now and watch the -proceedings at the peace conference, as I was doing during the last -seven weeks, and you will find that America asks for no territories, -for no mandates, and for no onerous compensations. It is the only -great power there which preaches moderation, and demands unreservedly -full justice for the little nations. Yugoslav Dalmatia, Istria, -Goricia, and Fiume had been, in a period of stress, bartered away by -some of our allies; America is to-day the only fearless champion of -your claims to these Yugoslav lands. American men and women hastened -to every front, and there, amid many perils and discomforts, they -nursed the sick and the wounded. They fed the hungry and clothed -the naked and the destitute. This they did even before America had -entered the world war. Need I remind you that it was an American -mission which, in 1915, saved Serbia from the destructive ravages of -typhus, and that several Americans, victims of these very ravages, -are now buried in Serbia’s soil? To-day you will find Americans even -in the countries of our former enemies, in Germany, Austria, and -Hungary, doing the work of mercy and of charity. The name of Hoover -is just as well known and beloved in Vienna and Budapest as it is in -Belgium. A country of materialism cannot display that spirit which -America has displayed during this war. Let the idealism of President -Wilson remind you of American idealism.</p> - -<p>The phrase “American materialism” is an invention of ill-informed -Europe; but the European who has lived in the United States, and has -had the good fortune to catch the spirit of America, revolts whenever -he hears the untutored European mind utter that phrase. Read the -history of the United States from its earliest beginnings, when the -Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth Rock, three hundred years ago, -and you will find that idealism runs through it from beginning to -end. The Pilgrim fathers themselves were idealists, who undertook -the perilous voyage “for the glory of God and the advancement of the -Christian faith.”</p> - -<p>A hundred and fifty years later the Continental Congress of the -colonies issued, at Philadelphia, the “Declaration of Colonial -Rights,” and this declaration, as well as the documents accompanying -it and addressed to the people of the United Kingdom and of British -America, breathes the spirit of lofty idealism. The same Congress in -1775 issued another declaration, setting forth causes which forced -the American colonies to take up arms; and in 1776 it issued the -Declaration of Independence, which announced to the world the ideals -for the attainment of which the colonists were ready to sacrifice -their lives. No other human documents ever stated so clearly and -so definitely the “divine right of man” as these documents did. -The men who composed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315"></a>315</span> these documents were not ordinary men; they -were idealists of the highest type. Read the lives of Washington, -Hamilton, Franklin, Jay, Jefferson, and of other leaders of the -American Revolutionary period, and you will find what a wonderful -power idealism has when the destiny of a young nation hangs in the -balance. But when the struggle was over, after the victory had been -won, the leader of the new nation, immortal Washington, assumed the -supreme executive office of the land and retired from it after two -terms of service with a spirit of dignity and of humility which has -no equal in human history. His Farewell Address to the American -people, advocating the practice of idealism by the cultivation of -religion, morality, patriotism, good faith, and justice toward all -nations, is an echo of the voice of idealism which was the driving -power of the American Revolution.</p> - -<p>The idealism of the Revolutionary period was the guiding star of the -American patriots of the stormy period preceding the Civil War. One -of them, Daniel Webster, was a youth of seventeen when Washington -died, and he knew personally some of the great leaders of the -Revolutionary period, like Jefferson and Adams. He certainly caught -by direct contact the idealism of this period. Read his speeches, -as I have read them during my apprenticeship days in America, and -you will understand what I mean by American idealism, if this war -has not shown it to you better than any words of mine can do it. -Webster’s idealism was in the hearts of men of his generation, -who, under the great leadership of Lincoln, one of the greatest -among American idealists, conducted the Civil War and preserved -the American Union. Lincoln’s immortal words: “With malice toward -none, with charity for all,” will forever remind the world of the -idealism which was in the hearts of the American people who fought -for the preservation of the American Union. President Wilson is one -of the best biographers of George Washington, and he also published a -splendid study of the constitutional government of the United States. -No profound student of these themes can escape becoming an exalted -idealist. His speeches, which during the World War he addressed to -the American people and to the whole world, are sermons on American -idealism, which have guided the people of the United States from the -very beginning of their history; but some of you in Europe never -understood it. The world war has made you eager to listen to every -word which inspires your anxious hearts with new hopes. President -Wilson’s words and his acts at the Paris peace conference inspire you -with these new hopes, and hence this Wilson Day, an honor to him and -a credit to you. In honoring him you are honoring the idealism of the -American people, for which act I am most grateful to you.</p> - -<p>It was here in Panchevo that I first heard of Benjamin Franklin,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316"></a>316</span> -nearly fifty years ago; to-day I deliver to you, people of Panchevo, -a greeting from Franklin’s native land and a message that the -cultivation of American idealism is the most powerful arm for the -defense of the destiny of your young nation.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Hamilton Fish Armstrong, our military <em>attaché</em> in Belgrade at -that time, was present at the meeting. He did not understand a word -of my address, because it was delivered in Serbian, but he assured me -that, judging by appearances, it must have been at least as good as -my address in Princeton in the beginning of the World War in 1914; -he was then a senior at Princeton College. The Princeton address was -a eulogy of Serbian idealism, which I had imported into America when -I landed at Castle Garden in 1874; the Panchevo address was a eulogy -of American idealism, which I had brought back to Panchevo forty-five -years later. I must confess, however, that, twenty-five years earlier, -the above address was delivered in substance to Protoyeray Zhivkovich, -the poet-priest of Panchevo, when after graduating at Columbia in 1883 -I returned for the first time to my native village. On that occasion -the poet said, and here I quote from an earlier chapter of my narrative:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Tell your mother that I am happy to bear the whole responsibility -for your wandering away to distant America. It is no longer distant; -it is now in my heart; you have brought America to us. It was a -new world in my terrestrial geography; it is now a new world in my -spiritual geography.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p class="noi">I often think of these words now, and I firmly believe that -there are many millions of people in Europe to-day who think that -America is a new world in their spiritual geography. The people -in Panchevo, I am certain, think so. But it needed a world war to -eliminate from their minds the old superstition that this is the land -of “American materialism.” The world pendulum has swung the other way, -and I often wonder whether we can live up to the very high reputation -which we enjoy in the opinion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317"></a>317</span> of a large part of the world, which now -knows our virtues but does not know our shortcomings.</p> - -<p>A short time after the Panchevo celebration, a number of scientists -of the University of Belgrade, members of the Royal Serbian Academy, -invited me to an informal conference, and asked me to tell them -something about American science and its National Research Council in -Washington. I do not think that on that occasion my discourse on this -most interesting topic impressed my Serbian friends as strongly as my -Panchevo discourse did. For a long time after this conference I thought -of many things that I might have said, but did not say. The more I -thought about it the more I was dissatisfied. I was informed several -months after this conference that one of the Serbian scientists present -remarked to a mutual friend that from my Panchevo address on American -idealism he had been led to believe that at the Belgrade conference -I would say something about idealism in American science. But I said -nothing, and he inferred, therefore, that there could not be much -idealism in American science, a thing which he had always suspected. -Many European scientists suspected that long before he did. That -permissible inference of the Serbian scientist hurt me, and it hurt -the more because I felt that the omission was unpardonable. But the -psychology at the Panchevo celebration was different from that at the -conference in Belgrade. In Panchevo a remark was made from which, I was -afraid, one might have inferred that this is a country of materialism. -Nobody at the Belgrade conference suggested the thought that American -science might, perhaps, have a taint of materialism. But, of course, no -Serbian scientist could have suggested such a thing when the memory of -the service of American science to Serbia during the typhus ravages of -1915 was still fresh in everybody’s mind.</p> - -<p>A fireplace fed by slow-burning wood must be stirred<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_318"></a>318</span> up often to -maintain a lively flame. Similarly, the flame of a slow mental -combustion cannot be maintained without occasional stirring. My -mental combustion at the Belgrade conference was certainly slow, and -needed a stirring up, similar to that which it received in Panchevo. -My early studies of American history and American traditions would -have proceeded much more slowly, if it had not been for my old friend -Bilharz, who stirred me up with his prejudices against American -democracy, and with his everlasting complaints against the imaginary -spectre which he called American materialism.</p> - -<p>This stirring up is experienced by many American citizens of foreign -birth whenever they visit their native land. Every one of these -visits speeds up the Americanization process which is going on in -them. I firmly believe that the amalgamation of the foreign-born -would be speeded up wonderfully if we could make it obligatory that -every foreign-born American citizen should revisit his native land at -stated intervals of time. Had I not visited my native land so many -times since my landing at Castle Garden in 1874, the memory of my -early experiences in America, described in the earlier parts of this -narrative, would probably have faded away completely long ago. Had -I not visited Belgrade and Panchevo in 1919 I should not have been -stirred up on the subject of American idealism, and particularly about -the American idealism in science. It was in Belgrade and Panchevo where -the stimulus was applied which revived the memory of my experiences in -Columbia College, in the Universities of Cambridge and Berlin, and in -my professorial work at Columbia University, and made me pass in rapid -review through all my experiences which have a bearing upon American -idealism, and particularly upon the idealism in American science. Ever -since, I have been revolving in my mind many of the things relating -to American science that I might have mentioned<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_319"></a>319</span> at the Belgrade -conference, but did not mention. The painting, “Men of Progress,” which -I first saw at Cooper Union in 1876, came back to my mind. The men -represented in it, like Peter Cooper, McCormick, Goodyear, Morse, and -others, did not represent the idealism in science which the Belgrade -scientist had in mind; they were practical inventors. They were the -scientific idols of the American people, but they were not idealists in -science. The time for idealism in American science had not yet arrived. -The Union Pacific Railroad had not yet been built when that picture was -painted; the Western plains had not yet been compelled to yield their -potential treasures of golden grain; and the vast quantities of coal -and mineral ore were waiting anxiously to be raised to the surface of -the earth to serve in the development of our vast territory between the -Atlantic and the Pacific. He who could aid the people in this gigantic -development became the idol of the people. The names of inventors, like -McCormick, Goodyear, and Morse, were household words with the people of -the United States, just as the names of Edison and of Bell are to-day. -Joseph Henry, the famous scientist, was also in that historic painting, -but he was in the background of it. His expression seemed to indicate -that he did not feel quite at home in a group of men who were practical -inventors. He was a friend of Lincoln, and his idealism in science was -just as exalted as Lincoln’s idealism in political philosophy. But in -those days an idealist in science attracted little attention among -the people of the United States, who were busily engaged in solving -their numerous economic problems. Hence Joseph Henry, the idealist in -science, was practically unknown. This was the mental attitude which -Europe called “American materialism” in science. De Tocqueville, the -famous French traveller and keen observer, said this about us in a book -which he published over seventy years ago:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_320"></a>320</span> -It must be confessed that, among the civilized peoples of our age, -there are few in which the highest sciences have made so little -progress as in the United States.... The future will prove whether -the passion for profound knowledge, so rare and so fruitful, can -be born and developed so readily in democratic societies as in -aristocracies.... The man of the North ... does not care for science -as a pleasure, and only embraces it with avidity when it leads to -useful applications.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>To-day this criticism sounds like a national libel, but fifty years -ago it was swallowed like a bitter pill which, in the opinion of many -patriotic thinkers, we needed if we were to be cured of a malady which -threatened to become a national calamity. The greatest leaders of -scientific thought in this country pointed to our educational system, -in order to prove that de Tocqueville was right and that science was -neglected in our schools and colleges. Foremost amongst them were, as -I have already pointed out in this narrative, Joseph Henry, President -Barnard, of Columbia, President White, of Cornell, Draper, Youmans, -and others. They were all idealists in science, and when they invited -Tyndall to this country, fifty years ago, they invited the most -eloquent apostle of scientific idealism. The great movement for higher -scientific research, inaugurated in England by the immortal Maxwell and -his supporters, and in this country by the great Joseph Henry and his -followers, was a movement for idealism in science, or, as Andrew White -called it, “hope for higher endeavor.”</p> - -<p>When the European speaks of materialism in American science, he is -resurrecting notions which de Tocqueville had in his mind when he wrote -the lines quoted above. These notions were correct, but wonderful -changes have taken place in this country since de Tocqueville wrote his -book. If he were living now and published another edition of his famous -book, I am sure that he would insert a chapter which would speak of -idealism and not of materialism in American science.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_321"></a>321</span> -What is the mental attitude which I call “idealism in science”? Before -answering this question it is well to quote here from an earlier part -of my narrative:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>The <em>eternal truth</em> was, according to my understanding at that -time, the sacred background of Tyndall’s scientific faith, and the -works of the great scientific discoverers, their lives, and their -methods of inquiry into physical phenomena were the only sources from -which the human mind can draw the light which will illuminate that -sacred background. He nourished that faith with a religious devotion, -and his appeals in the name of that faith were irresistible. His -friends in America and in England, who were glad to have him as their -advocate of the cause of scientific research, had the same faith that -he had, and they nourished it with the same devotion. I know to-day -... that this faith was kindled and kept alive ... by the light of -the life and of the wonderful discoveries of Michael Faraday.... -He was their contemporary, and his achievements, like a great -search-light, showed them the true path of scientific progress.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>The worship of the eternal truth and the burning desire to seek an -ever-broadening revelation of it constitute the mental attitude which -I call “idealism in science.” Its growth in the British Empire, and -particularly at the University of Cambridge, has been most remarkable -since the great movement started under the leadership of Maxwell -a little over fifty years ago. What progress have we made since -Tyndall’s visit to this country in 1872? If in my narrative I succeed -in answering this question I shall be more than satisfied, and I shall -certainly send a translation of it in part to my scientific friends in -Belgrade. It will tell them what I ought to have told them four years -ago.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I return now to the point in my story where I digressed. The 14th -of April, 1896, is recorded in my calendar as a happy day. The 15th -started with a balmy spring morning full of glorious sunshine. The -suggestion to walk through Central Park to Columbia College to my -morning lecture could not be resisted, and I reached the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_322"></a>322</span> lecture-room -full of the joy of life which fills the heart of every healthy -youth. My students told me later that the first part of my lecture -that morning displayed that joy. But, near the end of the lecture, I -suddenly collapsed. A sudden chill struck me like a bolt from a clear -sky. Five days later my life hung in the balance; there was a desperate -struggle between a stout heart and the busy poisons of dreaded -pneumonia. The heart won out. But when the crisis had passed, and my -physician thought that I was sufficiently strong to stand the shock of -terrible news, he told me that my wife had died several days before, a -victim of dreaded pneumonia. She had caught the seed of this merciless -disease while nursing me. My weakened heart stood the shock, but every -one of my nerves seemed to snap in two. For the first time in my life -I recognized the full meaning of will-power; I recognized it because -I knew that the spiritual motor, the power of which I had always -felt, was there no longer. For the first time since leaving my native -Idvor, twenty-six years before, I had to be steered and looked after -by others. Life never looked so hopeless as it did during that awful -spring of 1896. But I wanted to live, because I had a little daughter -to bring up. That, in fact, was the only thing that I wanted to live -for; everything else seemed either devoid of interest, or much beyond -my reach. It is an awful thing to lose one’s self-reliance. Aims and -aspirations appeared to me like little toy balloons that children play -with; our nerves, I thought, are the strings which keep them afloat -within the reach of our vision. When these strings snap in two, our -aims and aspirations, like toy balloons, disappear rapidly into thin -air.</p> - -<p>My physician recommended that during that summer I should settle down -in Norfolk, Connecticut, to give the bracing climate of this New -England town in the Berkshire hills a chance to rebuild what overwork, -under<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_323"></a>323</span> nervous tension, and pneumonia had undermined and torn down. A -New York physician, who knew me through my X-ray work, offered to rent -me his summer residence, facing Haystack Mountain, the highest peak in -Norfolk, and I accepted it. This mountain is really only a hill, hardly -one thousand feet higher than the road at its foot, but as I sat on -the piazza in front of that little cottage and looked at the so-called -observatory, a square frame structure on the top of this hill, from -which people caught the distant view of the Housatonic valley, I -wondered whether I should ever be strong enough to climb to its top. -I recalled my exploits in Switzerland, thirteen years before, and, -utterly discouraged by the comparison, I accepted with calm resignation -that I had grown old and decrepit in less time than it takes other -people to become middle-aged. Whenever I thought of my past, present, -or future, I always managed to draw some gloomy conclusion of that -kind, and, so far as my cloudy fancy could see, I felt that I had -finished my career in dismal failure. People told me that these were -queer notions due to mental depression, from which I would soon -recover. But, as time went on and there was no relief, I resented it -when people tried to console me with, what I considered, empty promises -of a brighter future. There suddenly appeared an angel who promised -nothing but gave much.</p> - -<p>Another New York physician, the well-known Doctor Frederick Shepard -Dennis, also an admirer of my X-ray work, had a summer residence at -Norfolk. He was practically a native of this quaint New England town, -and believed in its great virtues as a resort for convalescents. He -was very anxious that my summer vacation there should put me on my -feet again, but he saw that my introspective life on the lonely piazza -facing Haystack Mountain blocked every road which might lead to my -physical and mental restoration. “Professor,” said he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_324"></a>324</span> one day to -me, “if you do not stop thinking about yourself you will never get -well.” “But,” said I, “what else is there to think about? I hate to -think about that horrible green phosphorescence of vacuum tubes, about -the X-rays, fluorescent screens, and skeletons of hands and feet and -ribs. Those are the things which haunted incessantly my burning brain -during the pneumonia fever, and I shall never think of them again if -I can help it. I should like to think about some other problems which -are waiting in my laboratory, but what is the use? I have no hope of -living long enough to solve them, or that, if I live, I shall have the -necessary brain energy to work out their solution. Besides, whenever I -begin to think of something pleasant or interesting my heart suddenly -gives a violent thump, and sends a cold shiver through my timid veins. -I must think of myself, because I am always on my guard against -something that might happen at any moment to cut the last thread of -my shaky vitality. It is this everlasting fear that keeps me thinking -about myself.” The good doctor looked thoughtful, but said nothing; -a few days later he drove up in a little yellow runabout, drawn by a -pair of cobs of beautiful dark chestnut color, which were a splendid -product of his stud farm; they shone like old mahogany. “How do you -like them, professor?” asked the doctor, as he scrutinized my admiring -gaze. “They are a thing of beauty and a joy forever,” said I, and I -meant what I said. The next day the cobs, with wagon and harness, were -mine; they were only three years old, and, although broken to harness, -they were quite raw and needed training. I got them after pledging my -word to the doctor that I would train them. My native Banat is like -Kentucky. Everybody raises horses, and everybody knows by intuition how -to handle a horse. I was told by experts that I handled those cobs just -right. While training them I really trained my own nerves. They needed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_325"></a>325</span> -it more than the cobs did. “Horse sense” has meant to me ever since a -sense which enables man to train a horse, and that means to give up -your whole heart and soul to the horse. The trainer must never think -of himself, but always of his beloved animal. He must be patient and -persistent, kind and affectionate, forgiving mistakes and showing full -appreciation for even the smallest honest effort. Only by the exercise -of these virtues can he succeed in developing in the horse the habit -of being a splendid horse. Doctor Dennis was a great lover of horses, -and he knew all that, and thought, as he told me later, that it was the -best medicine for me.</p> - -<p>My cobs acquired the best of habits, and at the end of a year they were -two beautifully balanced animals, carrying their proud heads on high, -and stepping up in perfect unison. They seemed, when in full action, to -be anxious to strike their foreheads with their knees. To sit behind -those animals, and watch their swaggering motion around the horse-show -ring, gave a thrill never to be forgotten. The New York horse-show in -Madison Square Garden, in the autumn of 1897, and the Philadelphia -horse-show at Wissahickon, in the spring of 1898, established the -great reputation of Comet and Princess Rose, the cobs that I had been -training during eighteen months. They won many prizes, but none of -them was as welcome as the prize of my restored health. I got well -without knowing that I was getting well; the only improvement that I -was watching and thinking about was the improvement of my beautiful -cobs, but, nevertheless, my laboratory assistant Cushman noticed in -the early spring of 1897 that I had already begun to speak much more -encouragingly about some of my old laboratory problems; he noticed it, -and he was happy again. The X-ray problems were not among them; I never -recovered from the feeling of horror which the thought of them gave me -during my sickness in April, 1896.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_326"></a>326</span> -Reginald Rives, one of the social leaders of New York, was the judge at -Wissahickon who awarded the prizes to my cobs. We had been in college -together, but when he saw me at the horse-show he did not recognize me -at first, because, as he informed me later, he did not expect to see -a college professor driving high-steppers at a horse-show. He spoke -very highly of my cobs, which won from a competitor like millionaire -Widener’s stable in Philadelphia.</p> - -<p>“Pupin,” exclaimed Rives, “if you can handle your students as well as -you can handle your cobs, you are the greatest professor in America.” -“I could,” said I, “if I had to handle only two students at a time, but -not two hundred.” Rives repeated this remark to his brother, a trustee -of Columbia University, and the trustee saw in it quite a chunk of -educational philosophy. The preceptorial system at Princeton reminds -one of this philosophy. Will the American colleges ever adopt it?</p> - -<p>A famous Boston lover of horses, a Mr. Jordan, saw my cobs at the -Wissahickon horse-show and made me a handsome bid for them in cash -besides “throwing in” a very handsome Irish hunter which had won a -prize in the jumping class. The hunter became my saddle-horse, and -served me loyally for fully twelve years. No better saddle-horse ever -cantered over the hillsides of Litchfield County than Clipper, the -Irish hunter, my trusty friend and companion, particularly during my -summer vacations. Thanks to Comet and Princess Rose, and to good old -Clipper, and to the bracing climate of Norfolk hills, the joy of life -returned again.</p> - -<p>My first job after landing at Castle Garden was on a farm, and there I -had vowed that as soon as I could afford it I would buy myself a real -American farm. A little over twenty years later, in 1897, I bought a -farm at Norfolk; this blessed spot, where I regained my health and -happiness, became my real American home, and I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_327"></a>327</span> have never had a desire -to seek a better haven of happiness in any other place, either here or -in Europe.</p> - -<p>The native of Norfolk is a typical Connecticut Yankee. Neither the -wealth nor the social position of a new summer visitor can faze him. -His dignity and self-respect forbid him to kowtow to any city swell. -You will get his respectful attention if you deserve it; but you must -earn it by your acts at Norfolk. You cannot command it by the power -of anything you bring with you from the city to your summer vacation. -While you are in Norfolk in summer, you are a summer boarder, an -outsider, with traditions back of you which no native of Norfolk knows -anything about. The force of all this was once so strongly impressed -upon me that I never forgot it.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width700" id="residence"> - <img src="images/facing328-i.jpg" width="700" height="424" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">PUPIN’S RESIDENCE AT NORFOLK, CONN., WITH ADJOINING FARM BUILDINGS - AND THE 500-TON SILO</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing328.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Norfolk, like every New England town, has its annual town meetings, -when the accounts of the town for the closing current year are -carefully analyzed, appropriations are made for the coming year, and -the selectmen and other administrative officers are elected. After -I had become a landowner in Norfolk, I attended these town meetings -regularly, and took part in their discussions, and there for the first -time I became acquainted, by personal contact, with the fundamental -elements of Anglo-Saxon civilization. At one of those town meetings -I urged the improvement of the public highways, using the argument -that better roads would attract more summer residents from the great -cities and, I was certain, would advance the prosperity of the town. -My arguments were received with respectful silence, and no sooner had -I finished my speech than a Mr. Nettleton, the oldest voter in the -township, got up and, turning his black goggles toward me, addressed me -somewhat as follows:</p> - -<p>“Our roads are just as good as they ever were; our ancestors taught -us how to take care of them, and they are good enough for us. You say -that if we improve them<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_328"></a>328</span> we would get more summer visitors, who, with -their wealth, would increase the prosperity of our town. We don’t care -for that kind of prosperity; it brings vanity and false pride into -our New England homes, which you city people carry around with you.” -Then, pointing his trembling finger at me, the old man exclaimed: “You, -particularly, are guilty of this offense; you were the first who showed -our simple people here how to swagger about this town on a horse with a -rabbit tail.”</p> - -<p>He referred to the almost universal custom at that time of docking a -horse’s tail; the tails of my famous cobs as well as of my saddle-horse -Clipper had been docked. After this speech, I suspended my propaganda -for more up-to-date roads. Two years later, another incident occurred -which is worth relating here. Mr. Carter, a Norfolk hunter of much -local fame, had a fine pointer dog. He went to Europe one summer and -left his dog in charge of a friend. But the dog ran away, and chased -through all the woods of Norfolk, looking for his master. One day he -came to my house; he was hungry, thirsty, tired out, and perfectly -unhappy, having failed to find his master. I petted him, gave him fresh -water to drink and some food to eat, and, while he was feasting, spoke -to him and paid him many compliments on account of his affectionate -attachment to his master. After his hearty meal he fell asleep near my -feet on the piazza, and when he woke up he looked at me and seemed to -be a much happier dog. From that moment on he followed me everywhere, -running after my horse when I went out riding. One day I was cantering -slowly along the road passing old Nettleton’s house. I saw the old man -standing near the road, apparently waiting for somebody. When I was -quite near him he beckoned me to stop, which I did, and he addressed me:</p> - -<p>“Professor, I was very severe with you two years ago at that town -meeting. But I did not know you; now I do. That dog there would not -stay with anybody in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_329"></a>329</span> town, but he stays with you, and he follows -you just as he followed his master. You are good to him, and the dog -knows it. I have great confidence in a dog’s judgment, and I know now -that you are a good man, just as good as any of the folks in this here -New England town.” Then, stretching out his bony hand to me, he said: -“Shake, forgive and forget, and let us be good friends. I shall never -oppose you again at our annual town meetings. What’s good for you is -good enough for me and for our little town.”</p> - -<p>No offer of friendship was ever more welcome to me, and there never -was a friendship of which I was more proud. Before many days had -passed, the natives of Norfolk, from the illustrious Eldridge family, -the angels of the town, down to the most humble day-laborer, felt the -same toward me as old Nettleton did; that is, I always thought so, and -I have never had any reason to think otherwise. No resolution moved -by me at the annual town meetings ever failed to pass, but I always -moved slowly, and not until I was quite sure that the motion was in the -right direction. I would sooner have risked losing the good opinion of -the trustees of Columbia University than that of the good people of -Norfolk, my American Idvor. During my summer vacations in Norfolk, I -have always felt just as much at home, and as happy and contented, as I -did in my native Idvor when, during my student days in Europe, I spent -my summer vacations there. Whenever I returned to my laboratory from -my summer vacation in the bracing atmosphere of Norfolk, I have always -felt that no problem there could resist the force of my stored-up -nervous energy. That feeling early encouraged me in the belief that I -had completely recovered from the breakdown of the spring of 1896, and -this belief gave wings to every new effort.</p> - -<p>When the news of the discovery of the Roentgen rays reached me in -December of 1895, I was busy with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_330"></a>330</span> research of a problem which I -had taken up in 1894, while making a foot tour in Switzerland. This is -the problem which I took up again after the recovery from the breakdown -of 1896. I must confess here that I never returned to X-ray research, -because for a long time after my illness even the sight of an X-ray -tube made me almost hysterical.</p> - -<p>During the first half of the summer of 1894, Mrs. Pupin and I were -staying at a little hotel on Lake Wannensee in Switzerland; I was -preparing my lectures on the mathematical theory of sound. Lord -Rayleigh’s treatise called my attention to the classical problem which -ten years before I first saw in La Grange’s famous treatise. I had -bought it second-hand in Paris, and had studied it in my mother’s -garden at Idvor. The problem was a hypothetical one relating to an -imaginary and not to a real physical case. It may be stated as follows:</p> - -<p>A string without weight is stretched like a violin string between two -fixed points; at equidistant intervals along this string are attached -equal weights, say bird-shot. The problem is, how will this string, -loaded with weights, vibrate when disturbed by an impulse? La Grange -found a beautiful solution for this historic problem, and the solution -marks the beginning of an epoch in the history of mathematical physics. -This solution enabled him to analyze mathematically the vibrations -of a violin string, one of the famous mathematical problems of the -eighteenth century. I made a bold attempt to find a solution for a more -general and less hypothetical form of this problem. I supposed that the -string itself had weight, and that it, as well as the little weights -attached to it, moved through a viscous medium. I felt intuitively -what the solution should be, and considered it of much scientific -importance. I finally found the most general mathematical solution of -this generalized problem, and the beauty of it was that it could be -stated in a very simple language. I shall<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_331"></a>331</span> state it later. The solution -was exactly what I had expected it to be, and it thrilled me more than -any work that I had ever done. I always believed that my training -in ground-signalling which the herdsman of Idvor had taught me some -twenty years before was responsible for this intuitive guess. Early -impressions, particularly those relating to novel scientific facts, are -very intense.</p> - -<p>I was much encouraged by the thought that I was able to add very -substantially to the solution of a historic problem first solved by -famous La Grange. In order to communicate some of my joy to Mrs. -Pupin, I told her that I was ready to give up mathematical reading -for the rest of that summer, and we started on a drive through -Switzerland. That is, she drove, while I walked a good part of the -time, particularly when the carriage was moving along the zigzag roads -going up to a pass, which happens often in Switzerland drives. Making -short cuts, I met her every now and then on the up-grade parts of the -steep and winding roads, and rode with her on the down-grade. During -these walks, being alone, I pondered a great deal about my solution -of the generalized La Grangian problem. One day, while climbing up to -the Furka pass, it occurred to me that since the motion of electricity -through a wire experiences reacting forces similar to those in the -motion of the material elements in a stretched string, my generalized -solution should be applicable to the motion of electricity, and I was -immediately aware that I had made a very important invention. I tried -to convince Mrs. Pupin of it, but she said: “I will believe what you -say and will gladly congratulate you if you will promise that you -will not be absent-minded during the rest of our trip.” I promised, -but it was very difficult to live up to the promise. I never told her -how often I longed to be back in my modest laboratory in the musty -cellar under President Low’s office at Columbia<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_332"></a>332</span> College, and that too -in spite of the heavenly beauty of the views which on my walks met -me on every turn of the winding roads which lead up to the wonderful -passes of Switzerland. I was most anxious to submit my theory to an -experimental test. When our tour in Switzerland was finished I had -every detail of the proposed experimental tests worked out in my head, -and yet my good wife never accused me of being absent-minded. In less -than a year from that time I had finished my first rough test, and was -preparing for a more elaborate investigation when the discovery of the -X-ray was announced, at the very end of 1895, and I, like everybody -else, dropped everything and eagerly sought information about this -wonderful discovery. It was the work I dropped then which I took up -again after my recovery from the breakdown of 1896.</p> - -<p>Now what is the invention which occurred to me first on my walk to the -Furka pass in Switzerland in the summer of 1894? A bit of scientific -history is connected with it, which I shall tell here briefly:</p> - -<p>A vibrating motion of electricity at one end of a long wire is -propagated along the wire in much the same way as the vibratory motion -of a rope or string is propagated from one of its terminals to the -other. This propagation of electrical motion from one end of a long -conducting wire to the other was first investigated by Professor -William Thomson, the late Lord Kelvin, of the University of Glasgow, -in 1855, when the first Atlantic cable was projected. He worked out -the problem for electrical signalling over a submarine cable, and -three years later Kirchhoff, who was one of my teachers in Berlin, -worked it out for telegraphic signalling over land-lines stretched over -poles. When telephony was invented in 1876, there was, of course, a -demand for a mathematical theory of telephonic transmission over long -conducting wires. He who understood Thomson’s and Kirchhoff’s work -could<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_333"></a>333</span> experience no serious difficulty in working it out. Vaschy, a -Frenchman, and Heaviside, an Englishman, were the first to work it out; -they did it in the chronological order just indicated, Vaschy leading -Heaviside by about two years. They both observed that just as in cable -and land-line telegraphy so also in telephony the reduction of the -transmitted electrical force was the smaller the larger the so-called -inductance of the transmitting wire. Many people believe that this -observation was an important discovery; I never thought so, because -I believed that Thomson’s and Kirchhoff’s work made that observation -obvious. But, however that may be, the observation was made by Vaschy -two years before it was made by Heaviside, and neither one nor the -other saw in it a special case of a general physical principle, which -the Allies appreciated much during the World War in their struggles -against the submarines. I shall describe it briefly:</p> - -<p>Sound is transmitted through water or through a solid much more -efficiently than it is through air. I knew that, when, as herdsman’s -assistant in Idvor, I learned the art of signalling through the ground. -Now why should water or hard and heavy ground transmit sound better -than air does? Idvor’s herdsman did not tell me that, but, having -gained the knowledge of the fact very early, I was prepared to seize -upon the dynamical explanation as soon as I needed it; and I felt the -need of it in Switzerland in the summer of 1894.</p> - -<p>Transmission of sound means transmission of vibratory motion from -one element of a substance to the contiguous elements. The element -which transmits its vibratory energy acts and the elements which -receive it react. Each element is capable of exerting three reacting -forces. One is against the change of velocity of its motion, that -is, against change of momentum. This reaction is called the kinetic -reaction, and, as I have pointed out before, it was discovered by -Galileo three hundred years ago. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_334"></a>334</span> second reaction is against the -elastic compression of the receiving element. It is called the elastic -reaction, and was discovered by Hook, a contemporary of Newton, two -hundred years ago. The third is a frictional reaction, the knowledge -of which is very old. There are, therefore, three forms of energy -generated in the reacting element of every vibrating body by the work -of the acting element. The first reaction results in energy of motion -of the mass of the reacting element; the second one results in the -energy of its elastic compression; and the third one generates heat. -The first and the second are energies of sound vibration and are -transmitted again to the contiguous elements, but the third is not a -vibratory sound energy and is not transmitted as such; it remains as -heat and represents the reduction of sound energy transmitted from any -one part to the contiguous parts. It is obvious that this reduction -will be, relatively, the smaller the greater the first two reactions -are in comparison with the frictional reaction. Heavy, incompressible -bodies, like water, metals, or hard solid ground, have incomparably -greater kinetic and elastic reactions than air, hence they transmit -sound much better than air does. This physical principle did splendid -service during the World War in submarine and subterranean detection by -sound. The herdsman’s assistants in Idvor, when I was a boy, profited -much from it in their signalling through the ground. I am not aware -that Vaschy and Heaviside had a clear knowledge of it. If I am correct, -then it is quite remarkable that Serb peasants should have been -cognizant of a physical principle which was probably unknown to English -and French savants, like Vaschy and Heaviside.</p> - -<p>Passing now by analogy from motion of matter to motion of electricity, -we can, speaking figuratively, state that vibratory motion of -electricity will be transmitted from one end of a conducting wire to -the other the more<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_335"></a>335</span> efficiently the heavier and the less compressible -that electricity is, or, dropping now our figurative mode of speech, -we can say that, other things being equal, the higher the kinetic and -the elastic reaction of the moving electricity the more efficiently -will the energy of its vibratory motion be transmitted over the wire. -But that means that the inductance of the wire should be made as large -and its capacity as small as possible. That much was perfectly obvious -in Thomson’s and Kirchhoff’s work, some twenty years before Vaschy and -Heaviside took up the mathematical theory of telephonic transmission. -These two celebrated mathematicians, however, deserve much credit for -their enthusiastic backing of inductance among the sceptical telephone -engineers, who, at that time, knew little of the mathematical theory -and of the general principle of transmission of vibratory motions.</p> - -<p>A coil of wire wound around an iron core is the first picture in our -mind when we hear inductance mentioned. Hence, if inductance increases -the efficiency of transmission in a telephone transmission-line, and -you cannot introduce it into the line in large amounts in any other -way, then one would certainly suggest putting a lot of coils into the -telephone-line and examining the results of this haphazard guess. -Vaschy tried this guess, and failed. The late Mr. Pickernell, chief -engineer of the long-distance department of the American Telephone and -Telegraph Company, also tried it, and he also failed. It was obvious -that, as Heaviside expressed it, experiment gave no encouragement with -regard to inductance introduced in this way. I tried it and found that -experiment offered very much encouragement to inductance introduced -this way; I succeeded, because I did not guess; I was guided by the -mathematical solution of the generalized La Grangian problem. What -does this solution say when applied to electrical motions in a wire? -It says this: Place your inductance coils into your telephone-line at -such distances<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_336"></a>336</span> apart that for all vibratory motions of electricity -which it is desirable to transmit there shall be several coils per -wave-length. In telephonic transmission of speech that means one coil -every four or five miles on overhead wires, and one coil in about every -one to two miles in a telephone cable. For these wave-lengths, the wire -possessing discreet lumps of inductance in the form of inductance-coils -acts like a wire with uniformly distributed inductance. Such a wire -transmits efficiently according to the general physical principle -described above. In order to illustrate this by a mechanical analogy, -we can say that a light silk cord stretched between two fixed points -and carrying at equidistant points heavy bird-shot will act like a -heavy uniform cord for all vibratory motions the wave-length of which -embraces several intervals separating the bird-shot, and will transmit -these motions much more efficiently from one end of the cord to the -other than if the bird-shot were not there. This simple experiment -with bird-shot and a long stretched cord can easily be tried; it is -a very inexpensive experiment and will convince you even if you know -nothing about the mathematical elements of the problem. This is the -simple experiment which I had in my head during my tramping along the -zigzag roads in Switzerland in 1894. A professor of physics, who often -acted as consulting physicist to telephone companies, had such a loaded -cord hung up over his lecture-room table for the purpose of explaining -transmission of wave-motion from one end of the cord to the other, but -he never inferred anything from it regarding loading a telephone-line -with inductance-coils. When I called his attention to it, and joked -about it, he blamed his hard luck, implying, I thought, that solving a -dynamical problem and building upon the foundation of this solution an -electrical invention is a question of luck.</p> - -<p>From the simple apparatus, just referred to, to the elaborate -electrical demonstrations which would convince<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_337"></a>337</span> stubborn and -hard-headed telephone engineers, was a very long pull. The most -embarrassing feature in these demonstrations was that I could not -afford large expenditures of money to carry them out on actual -telephone conductors; besides, it would have been unwise to disclose -to interested parties, the owners of long-distance telephone-lines, a -theory for which I had not yet obtained a satisfactory experimental -proof. I had to invent laboratory apparatus equivalent to telephone -lines or cables of great length, which would enable me to do all the -experimenting in my laboratory. That required almost as much thought, -inventive effort, and mathematical achievement as the solution of the -extended La Grangian problem.</p> - -<p>The first part of my research I communicated to the American Institute -of Electrical Engineers in March, 1899. It dealt only with the -mathematical theory of my laboratory apparatus. It spoke a great deal -about La Grange, but nothing directly about the invention. In October -of that year, a friend of mine, Doctor Cary T. Hutchinson, told me -that he suspected that an invention was hidden in that communication. -“If you have detected it, others have detected it also, and are by -this time in the Patent Office,” said I. “Are you not there yourself?” -asked Hutchinson, looking somewhat disturbed, and when he heard that I -was not he looked discouraged. When, however, I declared my readiness -to undertake to design for some clients of his a telephone cable to -operate between New York and Boston, guaranteeing to employ a wire not -bigger than in ordinary cables capable of operating satisfactorily -over a distance of only twenty miles, Hutchinson grew quite serious, -and advised me to apply for a patent before doing anything else. I -finally followed his advice, and not any too soon. There were others, -besides Hutchinson, who had recognized that in my communication to -the <a id="American"></a><ins title="Original has 'Amercian'">American</ins> -Institute<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_338"></a>338</span> -of Electrical Engineers there was -hidden an invention for which telephone engineers had been eagerly -waiting ever since the birth of the telephone art. This created an -interference in the Patent Office which annoyed me, but not nearly so -much as I had been annoyed there before. About a year from the date of -my application for patent, the American Telephone and Telegraph Company -acquired my American patent rights, treating me most generously. It -gave me what I asked; my friends thought that I had not asked enough, -but to a native of Idvor a dollar looks much bigger than to a native of -New York who may be a next-door neighbor to some Morgan or Rockefeller. -Besides, the opinion of the highest telephone authority in the world -that my solution of the extended La Grangian problem had a very -important technical value was much more gratifying to me than all the -money in the world.</p> - -<p>In Europe, and particularly in England, the invention came as a -surprise; they did not expect an American to make an invention which -required so much mathematical analysis of electrical motions, to which -the American physicist had contributed very little, whereas Vaschy and -Heaviside had written volumes about it. But these writers had paid too -little attention to classical writers like La Grange, Thomson, and -Kirchhoff. The construction of the inductance-coil required almost as -much mathematical analysis as the dynamical theory of the invention, -and the method of testing it also was new to the telephone engineers. -The coil is now known all over the world as the Pupin coil, and many -people think that the coil itself is the invention.</p> - -<p>When it became known that I had studied at the Universities of -Cambridge and of Berlin, my English and German friends claimed the -credit of the invention for the scientific training which I had -received at their universities. I think the French had a better -claim, because<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_339"></a>339</span> it was La Grange who helped me more than any other -mathematical reading. As a matter of fact, the engineers of the -American Telephone and Telegraph Company and the herdsmen of Idvor -deserve most of the credit. The first formulated the problem the -solution of which led to the invention, and the second taught me the -art of signalling through the ground which guided me to the physical -principle which underlies the invention.</p> - -<p>A vice-president of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, who -is a very high authority in telephony, informed me recently that one -way to describe, roughly, the value of the invention is as follows: -If during the past twenty-two years his company had been compelled to -extend its network of conductors so as to give, without employing my -invention, the same service which it is giving to-day, it would have -had to spend at least one hundred million dollars more than it has -actually expended. But after quoting him I wish to call attention to -a fact which the public often overlooks. I ask, where are those one -hundred million dollars which the invention has saved? I know that not -even a microscopic part of them is in the pockets of the inventor. -I have figured out also, with the same accuracy with which I once -figured out the invention, that those hundred million dollars are not -in the pockets of the telephone company. They must be, therefore, in -the pockets of the American public. The invention made it possible to -give the telephone service, which is now being given, at a lower rate -than would have been possible if one hundred million dollars more had -been spent. Every good invention benefits the public immeasurably more -than it benefits the inventor or the corporation which exploits the -invention. I certainly consider myself a public benefactor, and the -National Institute of Social Sciences called me so when it gave me a -gold medal almost as big as the full moon. But this gift would have -made me much<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_340"></a>340</span> more happy if the institute had at the same time given -another gold medal to the American Telephone and Telegraph Company.</p> - -<p>Some fifteen years ago, when Frederick P. Fish, the famous patent -attorney, was the president of the American Telephone and Telegraph -Company, I asked him in the course of a conversation whether he would -like to sell me back my invention. “Yes,” said he, “but only if you -will buy the whole telephone company with it. Our whole plant has been -adjusted to the invention, and when one goes the other also must go. -The invention has enabled us to detect many defects in our transmission -system, and if it had done nothing else than that it would have -been worth at least ten times what we paid you. It is the greatest -faultfinder that we ever struck, and it is the only form of faultfinder -for which we have any use.” A progressive industrial organization -courts the criticism of an accurate and friendly faultfinder. It -leads to research and development, and that supplies the vital energy -to every industry. Twenty-five years ago the American Telephone and -Telegraph Company had a small laboratory in Boston, where it did all -its scientific research and development. But, presently, faultfinders -like my inventions moved into the peaceful and drowsy precincts of -that tiny laboratory, and stirred up the engineers and the board -of directors. I am very happy whenever I think that, possibly, my -inventions have contributed some to this healthful stirring up. What -was the result? To-day the American Telephone and Telegraph Company and -the affiliated Western Electric Company employ about three thousand -persons at an expenditure of some nine million dollars annually in -their research and development work. The scientific research work at -our universities looks very modest in comparison with operations of -this kind. Young men of the highest academic training and splendid -talents are busy day and night exploring<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_341"></a>341</span> the hidden treasures on the -boundary-lines between the various sciences and the science and art of -telephony, and their discoveries, I am sure, are the best investment -of this great industrial organization. For instance, their development -of the many details in my invention have been wonderful, and give -testimony of the highest kind to the excellence of their scientific -research. It is not so much the occasional inventor who nurses a great -art like telephony and makes it grow beyond all our expectations, as -it is the intelligence of a well-organized and liberally supported -research laboratory. When I think of that I am perfectly convinced that -very few of the great advances in the telephone art would have happened -under government ownership. That explains why telephony is practically -dead in most European countries. What little life it has in Europe is -due to the American research in the above-mentioned laboratories.</p> - -<p>The General Electric Company, The Westinghouse Company, the Eastman -Kodak Company, and many other industrial corporations in this country -are supporting similar research and development laboratories, where -scientific men of the highest training are busily exploring what -Helmholtz called the rich territories near the boundary-lines of the -various sciences and of the science forming the foundation of their -respective industries. This reminds me of what I saw on a much smaller -scale in Germany, nearly forty years ago, when I was a student there. -We copied Germany’s good example, but are leading now, and the pace is -so swift that Europeans are dropping behind us very rapidly. The spirit -of scientific research has moved into our universities, and from the -universities it has moved into our industrial organizations. Industrial -research is making bigger and bigger demands upon the universities for -highly trained scientific research men; the demand is larger than the -supply, and because the industries can pay much higher salaries than<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_342"></a>342</span> -the universities can much difficulty has been experienced in inducing -bright and promising young scientists to pursue the academic career of -a teacher. The quality of the scientific teacher in the university is -temporarily deteriorating, that of the industrial research scientist is -steadily rising; on the whole, however, the country is a gainer. The -university man in the industries will transplant there the scientific -idealism of the university. The captains of our leading industries -already admit, as will be pointed out below, that the cultivation of -scientific idealism is the best policy for our American industries. -Listen to the papers which are read by their research men and you will -see that the industries actually practise the new gospel of scientific -idealism which they are preaching.</p> - -<p>But I must not depart too far from the main thread of my story. When -it became known that the American Telephone and Telegraph Company had -acquired the rights to my <em>high inductance wave conductors</em>, -all kinds of legends were told about the invention and the fabulous -price paid for it. Newspapers love legends, because the public loves -them. The public is a child which loves to listen to fairy-tales. The -only good that this publicity did was to help me sell my inventions -relating to electrical tuning and rectification in wireless telegraphy. -These lay idle for quite a number of years, and waited for further -developments in the wireless art before they could be employed -to advantage. Electrical tuning and electrical rectification are -fundamental operations in the radio art to-day, but the wireless -telegraphy of the early days is a distant and poor relation of our -present radio art. The world had to wait quite some time for new -discoveries which gave birth to the epoch-making inventions of new men, -like Lee De Forest and Major E. H. Armstrong. It had to wait also for -the great industrial research laboratories before electrical tuning and -rectification could come into their own. In the early days of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_343"></a>343</span> wireless -telegraphy I suggested several novel developments which might give -a fair chance to tuning and rectification, but I attracted scarcely -any attention. The legends just mentioned made people a little more -attentive.</p> - -<p>One morning a man stepped suddenly into my office at Columbia, and -introduced himself as Mr. Green, organizer and promoter of the Marconi -Company of America. He was full of action and looked like business. -“Are your wireless inventions for sale?” asked Mr. Green, without much -preliminary talk. “They are,” I answered, and I felt that my heart -was quivering on account of the unexpected blow which this laconic -question had given it. “How much?” asked Mr. Green. I gave him the -first figure that came into my head, and he, not a bit daunted, asked -whether I would take one-half in cash and one-half in stock. I asked -him twenty-four hours to decide. “All right,” said he, and promised to -call again the next day at the same hour. I should have been perfectly -satisfied to accept the cash offer and close the deal even without -the stock, but I was afraid that any over-anxiety on my part might -scare him away. The next day he called and the deal was closed, he -making a certain cash payment immediately and I agreeing to furnish -certain documents before the final payment was made. I was fairly well -acquainted with trading transactions in my native land; my father often -took me to market-places where he bought and sold cattle and horses. -I remember well the never-ending bartering which very often ended in -a fizzle. The nearer you get to Constantinople the worse becomes the -custom of this Oriental method of trading. Mr. Green had none of that -Orientalism, and his utter indifference to the figures involved in the -deal astonished me. He also took it for granted that I could and would -perform all the fine things which I promised to perform; that was very -flattering to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_344"></a>344</span> me, but I was too much of an Oriental to accept, without -some apprehension, his apparently implicit trust in me.</p> - -<p>This reminds me of an incident which happened eight years ago. The -Serbian Government cabled me to make a contract for five thousand tons -of lard; I was its only diplomatic and consular representative in -America during the war. I called up the representatives of Swift and -of Armour and told them over the telephone what was wanted, requesting -them to file their bids in forty-eight hours. Two days later I met -them in my office and some Serbian war commissioners happened to be -present. The contract was closed in less than thirty minutes, and when -I told the commissioners that it involved one million dollars they -crossed themselves in utter amazement. In Belgrade, they assured me, -the closing of such a contract would have required at least a month. I -astonished them as much as Mr. Green had astonished me, and the lard -transaction reminded me strongly of my deal with the Marconi Company of -America. Of course, lard handled by Swifts or Armours is a much simpler -proposition than a lot of belated inventions relating to electrical -tuning and electrical rectification for which there was not yet a -crying demand.</p> - -<p>A few months after my deal with Green I was in Berlin, by invitation, -for the purpose of negotiating, for my telephone invention, a business -agreement with the famous electrical firm of Siemens and Halske. It -was founded by Werner von Siemens, whom I had met fifteen years before -through the kind introduction of my teacher, Excellenz von Helmholtz. -During the negotiations which lasted one month I met the directors -of this corporation in almost daily conferences, which lasted never -less than an hour and very often several hours. Every detail of my -invention was thoroughly discussed both from the purely scientific -and from the engineering side, in its relation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_345"></a>345</span> to the earlier -publications which had a bearing upon it, in its legal aspects as -determined by the German patent laws; and finally the financial side -was carefully considered and definitely settled. There was no bartering -of any kind, neither was anything taken for granted. Contrary to our -American custom, the negotiations were directly between the inventor -and the scientific experts. The lawyers had very little to say, and -spoke only when the experts needed and asked for their opinion. When -I recall my negotiations with the American Telephone and Telegraph -Company, I remember nothing but lawyers. The negotiations with Siemens -and Halske recall scientific experts only; the negotiations with the -Marconi Company of America recall only Green. At the close of the -Berlin conferences and negotiations I was perfectly certain that I -had accomplished something; I understood my invention better than I -had ever understood it before, and I was perfectly certain that the -scientists of Siemens and Halske understood it just as well. Their -popular descriptions of it were better than anything I had ever done -myself. They also gave it a new name, and called telephone conductors -employing the invention “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">pupinizierte linien</i>.” The French -followed suit, and called them “<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">les lignes pupinizé</i>.” These two -new words coined in my honor will last as long as the invention lasts, -and so far there is no sign that it will be superseded soon by some -other invention. Its simplicity and effectiveness give it much vitality.</p> - -<p>After the completion of my negotiations in Berlin, the Siemens and -Halske engineers took me to Vienna for the purpose of introducing -me to the high officers in the Austrian Imperial Cabinet who guided -the destinies of the telephone system of the Austrian Empire. They -were glad, they said, to meet a native of Banat, a former subject of -Austria, who had made so important an invention, and they assured me -that their policy with regard to it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_346"></a>346</span> would be guided entirely by the -decision of the Berlin experts. Vienna did not seem to have a mind of -its own, and all its thinking apparently was done for it by the experts -in Berlin. I was quite elated by the idea that the Berlin experts who -did the thinking for the Austrian Empire had been most happy to spend a -whole month with me in daily conferences, eager to learn all they could -from me. I could not help exclaiming: “Oh, what a fortunate thing it -was that in my early youth I ran away from this moribund Empire, and -landed in a country of opportunities, where every individual thinks -through his own head and carries his load on his own back.” Germany, -at that time, was so vigorous that she did not hesitate to do all the -thinking and hustling for Austria as well as for Turkey, and did not -realize that she was carrying around two corpses which could not be -revived by even the combined vitality of all the young and vigorous -nations, like the United States of America and United Germany.</p> - -<p>Before returning to the United States I visited my sisters in Banat. -One of them was living in Idvor. On a Sunday in August during that -visit I was dining in her garden. There was a high fence around it, -and not far from it the boys and the girls of Idvor were dancing kolo -on the village green and the older people were looking on. Presently -somebody knocked on the garden-gate and my brother-in-law opened it. -There stood a rider, holding with one hand his horse, which was covered -with foam; in the other hand he held a telegram which he had brought -in haste from the telegraph station in another village, about five -miles away from Idvor. My native village had neither a telegraph nor a -telephone line, although I, its son, aspired to connect telephonically -every person in the United States to every other. The telegram in the -rider’s hand was for me, sent by my attorney, telling me that, on the -day before, my final papers had been delivered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_347"></a>347</span> to the Marconi Company -and that the check for the final payments was in his hands. “Good -news,” I said to myself, and gave the rider a tip of ten florins to -reward him for his haste, evidenced by the white foam on his horse. -The bagpiper and the kolo-dancers stopped when they saw a ten-florin -note in the rider’s hand and heard him brag that he had delivered -to me a telegram from America. The wondering crowd assembled at the -garden-gate, and the older peasants who had gone to school with me in -my boyhood days asked me if the telegram really had come from America. -When I said yes, and that it had been sent on that very morning they -looked at each other and winked, as if signalling to each other to be -on guard lest I fool them with an American yarn. Then the oldest one -among them addressed me as follows: “Did you not tell us that between -here and America there are four empires, each bigger than Austria, and -then the great ocean, which one cannot cross in less than a week even -in the fastest of ships?” “I certainly did say that, and I repeat it -now,” said I. He added: “How can a telegram cross all that distance -in less than a day?” “It could do it in less than a minute if man’s -clumsiness did not delay it. It could travel from here to Vienna in -less than a second,” said I, and carefully watched his expression. -The old man seemed undecided; he did not know whether to take offense -at my attempt to work off a silly yarn on him, or to proceed with his -cross-examination, and finally decided in favor of the latter course. -“Who invented all that?” asked he impatiently. “An American did it,” -said I boastfully. “These Americans must be very clever people,” said -he and waited eagerly for my reply. “Yes, indeed, they are very clever -people,” said I. “Much more clever than anybody in this village?” was -his next question, and when I assured him that the Americans were much -more clever than anybody in Idvor, he fired at me the following shot: -“Then how in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_348"></a>348</span> the name of St. Michael do you manage to make a living -there?”</p> - -<p>This incident in my native Idvor did me a lot of good. The experts -in Berlin and the high officers in Vienna had been most polite and -complimentary, and all their well-meant adulation coming on the top of -the newspaper legends about my inventions might have turned my head and -made me imagine that I was a “wizard.” Many an inventor and scientist -has been ruined by being persuaded that he is a “wizard.” I have always -believed that when a successful inventor is exposed to dangers of that -kind he should, somewhat like that king of antiquity, hire somebody -to whisper as often as possible into his ear: “You are an ordinary -mortal.” Whenever I see now the Elliot Cresson Gold Medal of the -Franklin Institute, the gold medal of the National Institute of Social -Sciences, the Edison Medal of the American Institute of Electrical -Engineers, the Hebert prize of the French Academy, and several other -evidences of recognition in my possession, I always think of that -professor who blamed his hard luck for his failure to infer from the -loaded strings which hung daily over his head what I had inferred from -La Grange’s imaginary string. It was, I know, a lucky day when on the -14th of July, 1884, I found that second-hand bookshop in the Quartier -Latin in Paris and picked up there a copy of La Grange’s treatise. -Without it, I might have remained as ignorant of the remarkable -properties of a loaded string as that professor was. My answer to the -peasant’s question, “How in the name of St. Michael do you manage to -make a living there?” is this: “The humble herdsman of Idvor and the -famous La Grange of Paris told me how to do it.”</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_349"></a>349</span> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> - -<h2 id="xii">XII<br /> -<span>THE NATIONAL RESEARCH COUNCIL</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> mathematical problems in the theory of electrical transmission, and -the research of the behavior of materials employed in the construction -of inductance-coils kept me busy, and made me forget that I was missing -the splendid opportunities offered by New Physics, which I always -represented symbolically by the picture of a vacuum-tube, because its -origin dates from Roentgen’s discovery. My complete recovery from the -shock of 1896 did not reconcile me to the vacuum-tube, until several -years had wiped out the memory which my mind had associated with it. By -that time I had dropped too far behind the men who were leading in the -procession of the revelations which New Physics had disclosed to man.</p> - -<p>No sooner had Perrin, a French physicist, demonstrated that the cathode -rays were negative electricity moving from the negative electrode of -a vacuum-tube to the positive electrode than Professor John Joseph -Thomson, of the University of Cambridge, proved that this negative -electricity is concentrated in small corpuscles, called electrons -to-day, which move with great velocities, and that the ratio of the -electrical charge to the mass of each electron is experimentally -determinable, and is, under ordinary conditions, a definite and -invariable quantity. This learned man, when a youth of only -twenty-five, had predicted in 1881, fourteen years before Roentgen’s -discovery, that the cathode rays were small negatively charged bodies, -moving with great velocities. Assuming them to be spherical, he -calculated, by the Faraday-Maxwell<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_350"></a>350</span> electromagnetic theory, the ratio -of their charge to their mass. He showed theoretically that their mass -consisted of two parts, one of which is the ordinary gravitational or -material mass, and the other a new mass which is proportional to the -electrical energy in the electron, and that this mass also depended -upon the velocity of the motion in a definite way. He devised and -employed an experimental method to determine this ratio. The most -remarkable feature of this interrelation between the electromagnetic -mass and the velocity of motion was the fact that when the velocity -approached the velocity of light the mass approached an infinitely -large value. But no such extremes of velocity of motion of the -electrons in a vacuum-tube were found at that time.</p> - -<p>Becquerel, the French physicist, discovered, soon after Roentgen’s -discovery, that certain substances associated with the element uranium -emitted electrons, both negative and positive, without being in a -vacuum-tube and submitted to the action of a great electrical force. -Madame Curie isolated the most active of these substances and called it -<em>radium</em>. The action of electron emission discovered by Becquerel -was called radioactivity. Three distinct things, it was found, were -emitted by radium: negative electrons, the so-called beta rays, some -of which were moving with enormous velocities; positive electrons, the -so-called alpha rays, moving with smaller velocities; and, finally, -an emission which had the same physical properties as the X-rays. The -beta rays, some of which move with a velocity nearly equal to the -velocity of light, enabled the physicists to determine experimentally, -employing J. J. Thomson’s method, the relation between the mass of -the electron and its velocity, and lo and behold, it was found that, -in all probability, the negative electron contained no other mass -except the mass due to its electromagnetic energy. In other words, -a negative electron is concentrated electricity and nothing else.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_351"></a>351</span> -Similar experiments with positive electrons led to similar conclusions. -Another most remarkable result was the revelation of the great -difference between the masses, and, therefore, between the electrical -energies residing in the negative and in the positive electron. The -mass of a positive electron was found to be very nearly equal to the -mass of a hydrogen atom, and the mass of a negative electron was found -to be only about one two-thousandth part of the mass of the positive -electron, and this meant that if the electrons are of spherical shape -then the diameter of the positive electron is only one two-thousandth -part of the diameter of the negative electron, since the energies and -therefore the masses are inversely proportional to the diameters. -In other words, there is in the positive electron a much bigger -concentration of electricity than in the negative and, therefore, much -more work was used up to produce that concentration. Experimental -data and calculation gave for the diameter of a negative electron one -ten-thousandth part of the diameter of the smallest atom, that is, of -the hydrogen atom, and therefore the diameter of the positive electron -should be only one twenty-millionth part of the diameter of a hydrogen -atom. A most bewildering revelation!</p> - -<p>The remarkable results of these historic experiments forced, one may -say, upon the physicist the electromagnetic theory of matter, the -theory, namely, that the ultimate components in the structure of -matter are positive and negative electrons. This theory was vaguely -foreshadowed by Faraday in his poetic visions suggested by his -researches on electrolysis. Needless to say, the physicists in the -United States were thrilled by these revelations, and by the new views -disclosed by them, perhaps even more than by the discoveries of the -X-rays and of radioactivity. The first visible effect of this thrill -was the organization in 1899 of the American Physical Society, a -quarter of a century after Tyndall’s visit to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_352"></a>352</span> this country. Just think -of it, the great United States had no physical society prior to that -time!</p> - -<p>It is an interesting fact that two of the most important American -organizations in abstract science were started at Columbia College. -The first was the American Mathematical Society. In 1888, two -young instructors at Columbia College, Fiske and Jacoby, started a -mathematical club. To-day the first is a professor of mathematics, and -the second is a professor of astronomy at Columbia University. I joined -them in 1889, as soon as I had returned to Columbia. We transformed the -mathematical club into the New York Mathematical Society, and elected -for president the famous Columbia don, the late Howard Van Amringe, -for many years senior professor of mathematics at Columbia College. -Doctor Fiske was its secretary; no young and struggling scientific -organization ever had a better secretary. The society prospered, and -in 1894 it was transformed into the American Mathematical Society, -counting among its members most of the distinguished mathematicians -of the land. I am certainly very proud that I am one of its charter -members.</p> - -<p>In 1899 several Columbia physicists, including myself, and their -friends from Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Cornell, Clark, -and other places, met at Columbia and organized the American Physical -Society. The late Professor Rowland, of Johns Hopkins, was elected its -president, and one of its most distinguished members was Professor -Ernest Rutherford, of McGill University, Montreal. He is now Sir Ernest -Rutherford, the Cavendish professor of physics at the University of -Cambridge, occupying the professorial chair once occupied by Maxwell, -then by Rayleigh, and then by Thomson, now Sir John Joseph Thomson, -master of Trinity College, Cambridge. Their names I have mentioned -often in the course of this narrative. It was most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_353"></a>353</span> unfortunate for -the progress of American physics that because of his failing health -Rowland’s wonderful influence in the society was of short duration. He -died in April, 1901, while still a young man. Rutherford’s wonderful -discoveries in radioactivity were reported regularly by himself at -the meetings of the society, and I often thought that these reports -alone, even without the many other good things which came along, amply -justified the existence of the society. When I compare the American -Physical Society of twenty years ago with the American Physical Society -of to-day I can scarcely believe that so much progress has been -possible in so short a time. I recognize, however, that this remarkable -growth is clue not only to the energy of youth of this country but also -to the energy of youth of New Physics, which I call Electron Physics.</p> - -<p>In October, 1899, Rowland delivered his presidential address before -the society at whose head he stood. I can see now how happy he looked -on that memorable occasion. Inspired by the latest revelations in -Electron Physics, he prophesied what new revelations the physicists -should expect in the approaching future. After describing physics as -“a science above all sciences, which deals with the foundation of the -universe, with the constitution of matter from which everything in -the universe is made, and with the ether of space by which alone the -various portions of matter forming the universe affect each other ...” -he stated frankly that the physicists of America “form an aristocracy, -not of wealth, not of pedigree, but of intellect and ideals.... Let us -cultivate the idea of the dignity of our pursuit so that this feeling -may sustain us in the midst of a world which gives its highest praise, -not to the investigator in the pure ethereal physics which our society -is formed to cultivate, but to the one who uses it for satisfying the -physical rather than the intellectual needs of mankind.” He then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_354"></a>354</span> -pleaded that we “recognize the eras when great thoughts have been -introduced into our subject and honor the great men who introduced -them and proved them correct.” Then, enumerating the great problems of -the physical universe, he asked: “What is matter; what is gravitation; -what is ether and radiation; what is electricity and magnetism; how are -these connected together, and what is their relation to heat?” Now, -these are the very questions which Electron Physics has been trying to -answer since that time; and this is the idealism which the American -physicist has had before him ever since the days of Rowland.</p> - -<p>Electromagnetic theory of matter was the first answer to Rowland’s -question: What is matter? But how about the answer to his second -question: What is gravitation? If matter contains nothing but -electrons, if they are really the most fundamental building stones -of matter, then electricity as concentrated and stored up in the -electrons can exert in addition to the well-known electrical force also -a gravitational force. A somewhat novel idea, but ... why not, and why -so? Einstein gives the best answer to this.</p> - -<p>To Rowland’s question: What is Ether? Electron Physics gave a puzzling -answer, but the puzzle has led us into a side path of surpassing -beauty. Our famous physicists, Michelson and Morley, are a combination -of two names better known in the world of physical science to-day -than Castor and Pollux were known when Zeus, descending from the -heights of Mount Olympus, sought the companionship of mortal men. The -fame of the twins, Michelson and Morley, not, however, of Michelson -alone, rests upon an experimental demonstration, the importance of -which was not until recently fully appreciated, the demonstration, -namely, that there is no ether drift; that is to say, so far as -man can tell, there is no relative motion between the earth moving -through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_355"></a>355</span> space and the ether which is supposed to fill all interstellar -space. On the other hand, the hypothesis that the ether moves with -the moving earth leads to insurmountable difficulties. This was, -indeed, a most embarrassing situation! Since Michelson originally, -and, later, Michelson and Morley, employed the radiation of light -in their attempts to detect the ether drift, it became necessary to -re-examine the electromagnetic theory of propagation of light for the -case that light, as in the Michelson and Morley experiment, proceeds -from a source which together with the observer is moving through -space. The famous Professor Lorentz, of Leyden, Holland, whom I have -the honor of knowing personally, made the first successful extension -of this theory, and explained satisfactorily Michelson and Morley’s -result. But the extension was obtained by what was acknowledged to be -a clever notion, and not by an unavoidable physical fact. The same -extension of the theory was obtained by Einstein, but it was founded -upon a broad physical principle which Lorentz’s extension lacked. -Lorentz preferred Einstein’s deduction of his extension, called the -Lorentz transformation. The physical principle just referred to is -now popularly known as the Special Relativity Theory, which Einstein -extended later into the General Relativity Theory. Einstein’s theory -explains very simply the Michelson-Morley experiment, but how does it -answer Rowland’s question: What is Ether? Also very simply by saying -that ether is superfluous in our analysis of physical phenomena. -Faraday expressed a similar view nearly eighty years ago. That, -however, which is essential in this narrative in connection with -Einstein’s relativity theory is the great fact that by it a general -demonstration is furnished that all forms of electrical energy are -a mass which has <em>inertial as well as gravitational</em> activity. -In the electromagnetic theory of matter this demonstration plays a -most important part. One of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_356"></a>356</span> the schemes of this theory is so simple -and so beautiful, and appeals so strongly even to an imagination not -scientifically trained, that I must tell here very briefly some of its -most striking features.</p> - -<p>All atoms are built up from a single atom, the atom of hydrogen, -which consists of a positive electron or proton, the nucleus, and a -single negative electron revolving around it like a satellite around -the central planet. A heavier atom, say an atom of oxygen, consists -of sixteen atoms of hydrogen, the positive nuclei of which form the -positive nucleus or central portion of the oxygen atom. Some of the -negative electrons are distributed among the positive electrons of -the central nucleus, serving to cement them together, and the other -negative electrons are revolving like satellites around the central -nucleus. The number of these satellites is the atomic number of -the atom, and it is this number, and not the atomic weight, which -determines the chemical characteristics of the atoms. This is only -a mere glance into the structure of Electron Physics, made here for -the purpose of pointing out some of the never-dreamt-of possibilities -that Electron Physics holds in view. For instance, four atoms of -hydrogen combining into an atom of helium give off a certain amount -of energy. We say the atoms of hydrogen degrade into the heavier atom -of helium and, thereby, a certain amount of energy is liberated. A -helium atom weighs less than four atoms of hydrogen, because of the -diminished energy per atom of hydrogen, the decrement of the weight -being proportional to the decrement of energy. This is demanded by -Einstein’s theory, which is really an extension of the theory first -proposed by Sir John Joseph Thomson, and it is a remarkable fact that -these weight relations satisfy the prophecy of the theory. The amount -of energy obtained by the degradation of the lighter into heavier atoms -is enormous. But we do not know how to produce the process of this -degradation. The question<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_357"></a>357</span> arises: Do not the young stars, the very hot -stars, which always consist of gases of small atomic weight, obtain a -supply of radiant energy from the degradation of atoms of small into -atoms of high atomic weight, and, if this is so, then why shall we -not some day learn this great secret from the stars? The language of -the stars has many deep secrets to tell; it mystifies me just as much -to-day as it did on the pasturelands of my native village fifty years -ago.</p> - -<p>Many other most startling contemplations may be connected with the -new views opened up by Electron Physics, all of them illustrating the -beauty, the wealth, and the power of a new science which represents the -marriage of two great sciences, physics and chemistry.</p> - -<p>Industrial science is very much impressed by new discoveries -which, as Rowland expressed it, “deal with the foundation of the -universe,” but which in spite of their revolutionary character are -easily understood by the practical man. Electron Physics abounds in -discoveries of that kind, and it seems that they have rushed upon -us like a cloud-burst. Things have been done that formerly seemed -impossible. Take, for an illustration, a thing which is so familiar -to all, the complete transformation of wireless telegraphy into the -new art which is called Radio. A vacuum-tube with a hot filament -fills up with negative electrons, which are thrown off by the hot -filament. The filament may be said to be radioactive. A current can -be established by applying an electromotive force which drives these -negative electrons from the space surrounding the hot filament to -a positive electrode. Here we have a new type of Crookes’s tube, -operated by a small electrical tension, and not by that of a powerful -induction-coil, which is necessary when the negative electrode is cold. -This current is called the thermionic current, and its value can be -varied in any way we please by a second electrical force which acts -through a third electrode, called<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_358"></a>358</span> the grid, placed in the path of -the thermionic current. This is the so-called audion tube, invented -by a Yale graduate, Doctor Lee De Forest. In the hands of the Western -Electric Company and of the General Electric Company, this tube has -transformed the whole radio art by its amplifying power. My old -inventions of electrical tuning and rectification have been raised to -unexpected powers by the action of these tubes, and the inventions of -my former pupil and research associate, Major E. H. Armstrong, and of -others, have given us the broadcasting art, which surpasses the wildest -expectations of even the rosiest of optimists of a few years ago. -Wherever Electron Physics has entered there have sprung up new crops -of the rarest fruit, and it is no wonder that there are to-day so many -workers in the newly discovered fertile fields of the electromagnetic -theory. Attend any meeting of the American Physical Society and you -will be convinced that the research in the university laboratories as -well as in the research laboratories of our industries would satisfy -even the highest expectations of the men who fifty years ago, under the -leadership of Joseph Henry, started the movement in favor of higher -scientific research. The university and the industrial laboratories -are mindful of Rowland’s admonition: “In choosing subjects for our -investigation, let us, if possible, work upon those subjects which -will finally give us advanced knowledge of some great subject.” What -subject can be greater than eternal truth, and that aim, according to -my definition, is idealism in science.</p> - -<p>It is very true that our American scientific research activities in -physics and chemistry are so alive to-day because they have been -greatly stimulated by the wonderful advances, through electron physics, -in the electromagnetic theory, and in its very successful applications -to technical and industrial problems. But it is also true that the -scientific research activities in other branches,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_359"></a>359</span> like biology, which -are not closely connected with the electromagnetic theory and its -applications, have also blossomed up with wonderful rapidity during the -last twenty-five years. It will be conceded, I think, that all these -activities in abstract science are to a very substantial extent due to -the rapid rise of the American university and to its splendid influence -upon the mentality of our industries. But in this democratic country, -covering a vast area, each State has the privilege of regulating in its -own way its own educational programme and policy, and each privately -endowed university can pursue its own ideals in its own way without -worrying very much about any other university. Lack of unity and -uniformity was, therefore, always felt, and there was always a strong -although often an unconscious desire in the hearts of scientific men -to bring about a uniformity in the aims and aspirations of higher -scientific research in our universities. The American Association for -the Advancement of Science made quite a number of efforts in this -direction, but the progress was slow. The great World War forced us to -make another big effort in this direction, and this time the effort -succeeded beyond all expectations. The following story of this big -effort is, I am sure, of national importance, and should be known by -every intelligent person in the United States.</p> - -<p>Just as the cultivation of science in the United States was first taken -up in the technical schools, like the School of Mines of Columbia -College, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and many others, -and not in colleges or universities, so the organization of scientific -associations took place first among the engineers, the graduates -of the technical schools. The American Society of Civil Engineers, -the American Institute of Mining and Metallurgical Engineers, the -American Society of Mechanical Engineers, and the American Institute of -Electrical Engineers, for instance, were organized some time before<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_360"></a>360</span> -most of the present associations in abstract science, that is in -mathematics, physics, chemistry, and biology were organized. Even the -youngest among the leading engineering societies, that is, the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers, was organized in the early eighties, -whereas the American Physical Society was organized nearly twenty years -later, in 1899.</p> - -<p>The organization of these technical societies did not wait for the -arrival of the American university. But, nevertheless, when the -American university arrived, and with it the research laboratories -in the fundamental sciences, it improved the quality of the American -engineer, and of the American engineering societies, just as it -improved the scientific standards of the American industrial -organizations. The National Academy of Sciences deserves here a -special consideration. It is an association of workers in <em>abstract -science</em>, principally, but, contrary to what I have just said, it -is, like the American Philosophical Society, founded by Franklin, older -than any of our national engineering societies. Its early birth was due -to the conditions created by the Civil War. Joseph Henry, I imagine, -suggested to President Lincoln that a mobilization of the scientific -resources of the North would improve greatly its military strength, and -thus the National Academy of Sciences was chartered by Congress during -the Civil War, in 1863, and was approved by President Lincoln. It was -a creation of the Civil War, and is in many respects an institution -which forms a part of the Federal Government. I shall describe now how -the National Academy of Sciences, itself a creation of the Federal -Government during the Civil War, gave birth during the World War to -another national scientific institution which is the climax of the -great scientific movement started fifty years ago. I have watched this -movement almost from its very beginning up to the present time; yes, I -have been a part of it during its most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_361"></a>361</span> active period, and I believe -that I understand its full meaning.</p> - -<p>The four leading engineering societies, mentioned above, were in quite -a flourishing condition at the beginning of this century; flourishing -not only with regard to the number, but also with regard to the -quality of their membership, and their progress was speeding on with -remarkable rapidity. For instance, the papers read before the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers in 1900, and the discussions which -followed them, were immeasurably superior to those read in 1890, -when I first became a member of this Institute, because the quality -of its membership was also immeasurably superior. The great American -industries paid much more respectful attention to these engineering -societies than when I first came to Columbia College in 1889. The -greatest among the American captains of industry of those days, the -late Andrew Carnegie, held them in so high an esteem that he presented -a magnificent gift to them which led to the formation of the United -Engineering Society. This happened in 1904, and marks one of the great -events in the history of American technical science.</p> - -<p>It is of considerable historical interest to observe here that -Carnegie’s magnificent gift to these national engineering societies -is closely connected with a very modest move made by the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers, nearly thirty years ago. The late -Doctor Schuyler Skaats Wheeler, at one time president of the American -Institute of Electrical Engineers, had purchased the famous electrical -library of the late Latimer Clark, of London, and had presented it -to the Institute. But the Institute had no building of its own, and, -therefore, no place for housing permanently this unique library. -Several of the members of the Institute, including myself, were looking -around anxiously for some practical scheme which would provide the -Institute with a home of its<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_362"></a>362</span> own, where the Latimer Clark library -could be permanently located. It was obvious that Andrew Carnegie, -who was always interested in libraries, should be selected as our -first point of application. We never had to appeal to anybody else; -Mr. Carnegie was most generous. The engineering societies appealed -to his lively imagination. It was the engineer who assisted him in -the development of the great steel industry, and it was the engineer -upon whom he relied to maintain the American steel industry in the -leading position which it had won, in a great measure, by Carnegie’s -initiative and efforts. He had already paid a splendid tribute to -science for the service it had rendered to him when he created and -richly endowed the Carnegie Institution of Washington, which was to -provide and does provide ample facilities to American genius in its -efforts to solve some of the great problems in science. I mention here -as an illustration the endowment of the Mount Wilson Astrophysical -Observatory at Pasadena, California, an act which has borne magnificent -fruit under Professor George Ellery Hale’s direction. Instead of -giving to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers a building -for a library, Mr. Carnegie presented to the four national engineering -societies a building for their permanent home, with suitable -accommodations for a great library, for administrative offices, for -conference and meeting rooms, for lecture-rooms, and for a great -assembly hall. One of the objects of the United Engineering Society -was, according to its charter, to hold and administer this princely -gift “for the purpose of advancing the engineering arts and sciences -in all their branches and for maintaining a free public engineering -library.” The famous Latimer Clark electrical library is now a part of -this great engineering library. The four national societies represented -by the United Engineering Society have a carefully picked membership -of over fifty thousand, and the magnificence of their home<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_363"></a>363</span> on -Thirty-ninth Street, near Fifth Avenue, New York, is fully justified -by their great prestige. I never look upon this beautiful structure -without being thrilled by the thought that the treasures it contains in -the form of organized scientific achievement and brains are among the -greatest of the many rich assets of this nation.</p> - -<p>Sixteen years ago, Mr. Carnegie and myself represented the American -Philosophical Society at the memorial service for the late Lord Kelvin, -the famous scientist. It was held in the great hall of the Engineering -Building. As we sat on the platform, waiting for the commencement of -the ceremony, I scanned the beautiful proportions of the great hall, -and they appeared to me more beautiful than ever. “You must feel -very happy when you look at this splendid gift which you made to the -Engineering Society,” said I to Mr. Carnegie, who sat on my right. “I -do, yes indeed I do, and I hope that some day you may experience the -same feeling of happiness which comes from giving,” responded the great -ironmaster. “Perhaps I will,” said I, “but remember that I am a Serb, -and not a Scot: it takes a Scot to understand and to practise the art -of giving.” “But it also takes a Scot to understand and to practise the -art of taking,” said Mr. Carnegie, and his vigorous eyes sparkled with -the light of good-natured humor.</p> - -<p>Another event occurred in the history of the four founder societies -which will always mark the beginning of a new epoch in American -science. Another captain of American industry extended a generous hand -to the United Engineering Society, offering to aid it in its work of -“advancing the engineering arts and sciences in all their branches.” -It is very significant that this second generous captain of industry -was in many respects a striking contrast to the first, the late Andrew -Carnegie. I am speaking now of Ambrose Swasey of Cleveland, Ohio. He, -like Carnegie, started his industrial career with very<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_364"></a>364</span> small training -in technical sciences. What he knew about engineering and manufacturing -he had obtained by practical experience. Ambrose Swasey is a splendid -illustration of a disciplined intellect trained by the training of his -hand. I have always believed that the most striking difference between -the American and the European is due to the fact that the American -in his early youth receives a much better manual training than the -European does, and that this accounts for the American directness -of thought, judgment, and action. I never saw a better illustration -of this theory than Mr. Ambrose Swasey. He began his career as a -machinist, and when a little over thirty years of age he and a friend -of his, Mr. Warner, another young machinist, started a manufacturing -plant of their own, making fine machine-tools and astronomical -instruments of precision. The shops of Warner and Swasey became famous -all over the world for their wonderful workmanship.</p> - -<p>The American manufacturer has achieved great things in mass production. -This was Mr. Carnegie’s strong point; but Mr. Swasey did not belong to -that type of American manufacturer. His aim was few products but each -one of them as perfect as careful manipulation, personal attention -guided by superior intelligence, and inventive ingenuity, could -make it. Most of the telescope mountings of the great astronomical -observatories in this country were made in Mr. Swasey’s Cleveland -shops. His shop experience made him an engineer of a very high order, -so high indeed, that the American Society of Mechanical Engineers -elected him president, and, later, honorary member. The charter of the -United Engineering Society speaks of “advancing the engineering arts -and sciences in all their branches,” but there was no other visible -instrumentality for doing that work than the free engineering library. -Ambrose Swasey proposed to correct this deficiency when, in 1914, -he offered to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_365"></a>365</span> United Engineering Society a gift of two hundred -thousand dollars as a nucleus for an endowment the income of which was -to be used for “the furtherance of research in science and engineering, -or for the advancement in any other manner of the profession of -engineering and the good of mankind.” These words, dictated by an -American captain of industry, bear witness to the fact that there is -much idealism in American industry. The United Engineering Society -accepted Mr. Swasey’s gift, and established the Engineering Foundation, -which was managed by its own board, the Foundation Board, nominated -by the four founder societies. Its members acted as trustees of -Mr. Swasey’s gift and of any other gift that might be given to the -Engineering Foundation to serve a purpose similar to that of Mr. -Swasey’s gift. This Foundation became an instrumentality of the United -Engineering Society for the stimulation, direction, and support of -scientific research. It became, furthermore, the liaison agency between -the engineers on the one hand and the technologists and scientists on -the other hand, in activities concerned with research in all branches -of mathematical, physical, and biological sciences. In other words, -one of the great captains of American industry, Andrew Carnegie, was -instrumental in bringing the great national engineering societies -together into the United Engineering Society, and another great captain -of American industry, Ambrose Swasey, invented and by his generosity -constructed an instrumentality, the Engineering Foundation, which he -put into the hands of the United Engineering Society for the purpose -of enabling it to do the work which its charter demands, “advancing -the engineering arts and sciences in all their branches.” I never -think of these two generous acts on the part of Mr. Carnegie and of -Mr. Swasey, without being reminded that these two great organizers of -American industry were guided by the same motives of idealism which had -guided the great<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_366"></a>366</span> men of the revolutionary times when they organized -the United States. Read the charters of the Carnegie Institution, of -the Engineering Society, and of the Engineering Foundation, and you -will find that no trace of materialism can be found in the proposed -scientific activities of these institutions founded by two men who made -material things but never lost touch with the spiritual world which -gave direction and discipline to all their acts.</p> - -<p>The Engineering Foundation became an operating instrumentality in -April, 1915, and in a year from that time it was called upon to engage -in a scientific enterprise which, in my opinion, has proved to be of -the very greatest national importance. In April, 1916, it appeared that -we were to become involved in the World War on account of the sinking -of the <i>Sussex</i> by German submarines. The charter of the National -Academy of Sciences, passed by Congress and approved by President -Lincoln in 1863, provides that “the Academy shall, whenever called upon -by any department of the Government, investigate, examine, experiment, -and report upon any subject of science and art.” The early records -indicate that during its very earliest days the National Academy of -Sciences, under the leadership of Joseph Henry, and while the Civil War -was still going on, dealt actively with scientific research relating -to military and naval problems. It was, therefore, perfectly natural -that, in view of the threatening crisis, the National Academy of -Sciences should, in April, 1916, offer its services to the President -of the United States, who accepted them and requested the Academy to -organize the scientific and technical resources of the country in -the broadest and most effective manner. This is how the <em>National -Research Council</em> was born. It is the offspring of the National -Academy of Sciences. The mother was born during the Civil War, and the -offspring was born during the World War. Blessed be the country which -even in times of war creates<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_367"></a>367</span> institutions the highest aim of which is -to cultivate the arts of peace!</p> - -<p>The members of the National Academy of Sciences are elected on account -of distinguished services to science, and not on account of their -cleverness as administrators or organizers. The National Research -Council was to be organized for the purpose of “stimulating research -in mathematical, physical, and biological sciences, and in the -application of these sciences to engineering, agriculture, medicine, -and other useful arts, with the object of increasing knowledge, of -strengthening the national defense, and of contributing in other ways -to the public welfare.” The words just quoted are taken from President -Wilson’s executive order, and describe a splendid conception. But from -conception to reduction to practice is a long pull, requiring efforts -along most practical lines of endeavor in which scientific men as a -rule do not excel. But it was very fortunate for the National Academy -of Sciences and for the people of the United States that among the -scientists of the Academy there was one man who had always displayed -just as remarkable a genius for organization as he had for original -scientific research; I mean Professor George Ellery Hale, director of -the Mount Wilson Observatory. Several other members of the Academy, -including myself, did our best to aid him in the task of reducing to -practice many of his ideas relating to the National Research Council. -There was, fortunately, one thing which greatly assisted our earliest -and most difficult efforts in behalf of this national movement; it was -the existence of the Engineering Foundation.</p> - -<p>My former pupil, Gano Dunn, was in 1916 the chairman of the Engineering -Foundation, and I was one of the two vice-chairmen. It did not cost -me much effort to persuade Dunn that one of the biggest tasks which -the Engineering Foundation could take up was to grubstake<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_368"></a>368</span> the -National Research Council during its formative period. The Board of -the Foundation accepted enthusiastically this suggestion, recommended -by Mr. Dunn and myself, and from September 1916 to September 1917 -the administrative organization as well as the total income of the -Foundation was devoted to the organizing work of the National Research -Council. I am very proud that during a part of that period I was the -chairman of the Engineering Foundation, succeeding Mr. Dunn, and had -splendid opportunities to aid Professor Hale and his committees in -the historic work of organizing the National Research Council. Mr. -Swasey was very happy in this national work of the Foundation, and he -added to its income for that year a sum of five thousand dollars as -additional aid for its great undertaking. At the expiration of that -year, the National Research Council did not need any further financial -assistance from the Engineering Foundation, but the co-operation -started in 1916 between the two national bodies continued and produced -splendid results; so much so that in 1918, during my term of office -as chairman of the Foundation, Mr. Swasey added one hundred thousand -dollars to his original gift, and in 1920 two hundred thousand dollars -more, and the Engineering Foundation became the guiding and controlling -factor in the activities of the engineering division of the National -Research Council. Mr. Swasey always hoped that others would follow -his example and by their generous contribution increase the income of -the Engineering Foundation to what it should be. This institution, as -the directing instrument of the engineering division of the National -Research Council, could, with an adequate annual income, say one -hundred thousand dollars or more, do a world of good in the research -of our great national engineering problems. I trust that Mr. Swasey’s -hopes will not meet with disappointment, because his hopes are based -upon his accurate estimate of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_369"></a>369</span> what the engineering profession needs. -An estimate supported by the judgment and vision of a Swasey, and by -his generous financial efforts, should receive the most respectful -attention and warmest sympathy of our public-spirited men.</p> - -<p>It goes without saying that during the World War the National Research -Council was organized mainly with a view to aiding the government in -the pursuit of the war, and for that purpose it was closely associated -with the government’s scientific bureaus, and with the technical -department of the Army and Navy. This arrangement is referred to, and -receives the highest official sanction, in the executive order issued -by President Wilson, which I quote now in full:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p class="center">EXECUTIVE ORDER ISSUED BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES</p> - -<p>The National Research Council was organized in 1916 at the request -of the President by the National Academy of Sciences, under its -Congressional charter, as a measure of national preparedness. The -work accomplished by the Council in organizing research and in -securing co-operation of military and civilian agencies in the -solution of military problems demonstrates its capacity for larger -service. The National Academy of Sciences is therefore requested to -perpetuate the National Research Council, the duties of which shall -be as follows:</p> - -<p>1. In general, to stimulate research in the mathematical, physical, -and biological sciences, and in the application of these sciences -to engineering, agriculture, medicine, and other useful arts, with -the object of increasing knowledge, of strengthening the national -defense, and of contributing in other ways to the public welfare.</p> - -<p>2. To survey the larger possibilities of science, to formulate -comprehensive projects of research, and to develop effective means of -utilizing the scientific and technical resources of the country for -dealing with these projects.</p> - -<p>3. To promote co-operation in research, at home and abroad, in -order to secure concentration of effort, minimize duplication, and -stimulate progress; but in all co-operative undertakings to give -encouragement to individual initiative, as fundamentally important to -the advancement of science.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_370"></a>370</span> -4. To serve as a means of bringing American and foreign investigators -into active co-operation with the scientific and technical services -of the War and Navy Departments and with those of the civil branches -of the Government.</p> - -<p>5. To direct the attention of scientific and technical investigators -to the present importance of military and industrial problems in -connection with the war, and to aid in the solution of these problems -by organizing specific researches.</p> - -<p>6. To gather and collate scientific and technical information at home -and abroad, in co-operation with governmental and other agencies and -to render such information available to duly accredited persons.</p> - -<p>Effective prosecution of the Council’s work requires the cordial -collaboration of the scientific and technical branches of the -Government, both military and civil. To this end representatives -of the Government, upon the nomination of the National Academy of -Sciences, will be designated by the President as members of the -Council, as heretofore, and the heads of the departments immediately -concerned will continue to co-operate in every way that may be -required.</p> - -<p class="right mb0">(Signed) <span class="smcap">Woodrow Wilson</span>.</p> -<p class="noi mt0">The White House, May 11, 1918.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>During the World War the National Research Council was only partly -supported by the government, although it did exclusively government -work. After the war, however, the activities of the National Research -Council were reorganized without departing from the spirit of the -President’s executive order, and its support was derived from private -sources only. Its organization can be described broadly as follows:</p> - -<p>It consists of two groups of divisions; one group comprises seven -divisions of science and technology, representing, respectively, -physics, mathematics, and astronomy; chemistry and chemical technology; -biology and agriculture; the medical sciences; psychology and -anthropology; geology and geography; and, finally, one of the largest -and most important of its divisions, the division of engineering. The -other group comprises six divisions of general relations, representing -foreign relations, government<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_371"></a>371</span> relations, state relations, educational -relations, research extension, and research information. In this -scheme of organization the National Research Council enjoys the active -co-operation of about seventy-five major scientific and technical -societies of the country. It is, therefore, national in its character. -It promises to become one of the most precious assets of this nation, -and the nation should know much more about it than it does.</p> - -<p>The splendid work done by the Council even during the first two years -of its history attracted much attention from the best men in the -country, with the result that the trustees of the Carnegie Corporation -of New York made a gift of five million dollars to the Council. -A part of this, a little over one-quarter, was to be spent on an -administrative building, the future home of the Academy and of its -offspring, the National Research Council. The remainder was to be a -permanent foundation from the income of which the administrative work -of the Council was to be and is now being supported.</p> - -<p>The Rockefeller Foundation and the Rockefeller General Education Board -gave the Council one million dollars for the maintenance, during -five years, of research fellowships in physics and chemistry, and in -medicine. Other gifts came from philanthropic organizations, individual -concerns, and individuals, for the support of special scientific -projects, and more than a score of individuals interested in the -promotion of science contributed two hundred thousand dollars for the -purchase of land in Washington on which the administration building of -the Academy and Council has been under construction during the last two -years.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="george"> - <img src="images/facing372a-i.jpg" width="500" height="499" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">DR. GEORGE ELLERY HALE</div> - <div class="caption">Honorary Chairman of the National Research Council</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing372a.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Facing the Mall near the Lincoln memorial in Washington stands to-day, -nearly completed, the administrative palace of the National Academy -of Sciences and of its offspring, the National Research Council. The -classical<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_372"></a>372</span> simplicity of its design and its snowy marble make it -appear at a distance like a Grecian temple. It will always invite the -visitor to the nation’s capital to its peaceful precincts, whence -one can get the impressive view of the beautiful monument to great -Lincoln and of the Arlington heights on the distant bank of the Potomac -River. When Lincoln and those buried on these sacred heights died, the -National Academy of Sciences was born. The lives of these dead heroes -of sixty years ago, as well as the life of the institution born then -and living to-day, will always remind us that national defense is a -stern reality and the most sacred of our patriotic duties. National -defense is and always should be the uppermost idea in the history of -the National Research Council, but national defense in its broadest -sense, that is, defense by powder and sword and scientific invention -when a brutal enemy attacks us, and by the stored-up accomplishments of -scientifically trained intellects and disciplined spirits whenever this -nation engages in peaceful competitions with other nations.</p> - -<div class="figcenter width700" id="council"> - <img src="images/facing372b-i.jpg" width="700" height="489" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">THE NATIONAL RESEARCH COUNCIL BUILDING, WASHINGTON, D. C.</div> - <div>From a preliminary sketch by the architect, Bertram G. Goodhue</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/facing372b.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p>The rapid rise of the Council into public favor is due principally to -its wise programme and to the standing of the men and of the scientific -organizations engaged in the carrying out of that programme, the -fundamental feature of which is “to promote scientific research and the -application and dissemination of scientific knowledge for the benefit -of our national strength and well-being.” This expression, often heard -within the ranks of the National Research Council, always reminds me of -the following words in Washington’s Farewell Address:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Promote, then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for -the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure -of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that -public opinion should be enlightened.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>In no branch of human activity does public opinion need enlightenment -so much as it does in the fundamentals<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_373"></a>373</span> of science, and in their -relation to technical arts. One weak point in every democracy, -particularly when poorly understood and practised, is the belief among -those who control political patronage that any man can do any job as -well as any other man. The scientific man believes that a man must be -trained for the job; hence his profound respect for the expert. Nothing -in his opinion will advance our national strength and well-being so -much as the ability of enlightened public opinion to differentiate -between the expert and the clumsy product of political patronage. A -motto of the Allies in the World War was: make the world safe for -democracy. But those who are to-day associated in the National Research -Council believe that it is even more important to “make democracy safe -for the world” by the dissemination of scientific knowledge for the -benefit of national strength and well-being. Many of us believe that -this is the most important part of the national defense, to which the -Council will always be pledged.</p> - -<p>The National Research Council is not an organization which operates -scientific laboratories; it confines its attention to the stimulation -of co-operation between scientific workers, where such co-operation -is necessary. This is not the place to discuss in detail all the -aims and aspirations of the National Research Council and of the -instrumentalities which it has created in order to reach these aims. -A survey, even a brief one, of the work of the divisions belonging -to the two groups of the National Research Council will give some -idea of these aims. There are, however, two great aims which should -be mentioned here, which have been well expressed by Doctor Vernon -Kellogg, Permanent Secretary of the Council and chairman of its -division on Educational Relations. He describes one of them as follows: -“It [the National Research Council] will try constantly to encourage -the interest of universities and colleges in research and in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_374"></a>374</span> -training of research workers, so that the inspiration and fitting of -American youth for scientific work may never fall so low as to threaten -to interrupt the constantly needed output of well-trained and devoted -scientific talent in the land.” The other principal aim he describes in -the following significant words: “Still another [assistance to science] -is the stimulation of larger industrial organizations, which may be -in the situation to maintain their own independent laboratories, to -see the advantage of contributing to the support of pure science in -the universities and research institutes, for the sake of increasing -the scientific knowledge and scientific personnel upon which future -progress in applied science absolutely depends.”</p> - -<p>The appeal of the National Research Council to the American -universities and colleges in behalf of scientific research will not -be like a voice in the wilderness. There never was so much enthusiasm -for scientific research in the American colleges and universities as -there is to-day. This enthusiasm will continually increase as time -goes on, because many of the scientific workers in these institutions -are gradually catching that enthusiasm during their term of office as -members of the divisions of the National Research Council. Before very -long most of these workers will have served as such members, because -the election to membership is for a short term only, so that every -scientist in the land who wishes to serve will get a chance to serve, -and in this manner will become familiar with the aims and aspirations -of the National Research Council. This rotational term of membership -in the divisions of the Council is a splendid method of carrying on -the educational propaganda, particularly among the younger scientists -of the United States. Before very long the scientists associated by -service in the Council will be like the soldiers of a great army of -volunteers, each one of them believing in and ready to struggle for -the same<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_375"></a>375</span> ideals, -and all of them controlled by the same <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">esprit de -corps</i>, which the world will soon recognize as the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">esprit de -corps</i> of American science.</p> - -<p>With regard to the Council’s second principal aim, described so -well by Doctor Kellogg, I am happy to make the following comment: A -distinguished lawyer, chairman of the board of directors of a large -industrial corporation, which maintains a splendid industrial research -laboratory, said in my presence recently that he thought every -successful and prosperous industrial organization should set aside a -goodly portion of its profits from new developments, made possible by -scientific research, and turn it over to the universities, to enable -them to pay better salaries to their professors and instructors in -science and to increase their research facilities. He confessed frankly -that the training in scientific research in the universities is the -fountainhead from which success is derived in industrial research -and development, and that without industrial research American -industries will not gain and hold the leading position in the world -to which they may rightfully aspire. What a splendid thing it is to -hear a lawyer express an opinion which is in perfect harmony with the -opinion of every scientific man in the United States! It has been -this mental attitude on the part of the American philanthropists and -public-spirited captains of industry like Carnegie, Rockefeller, -Swasey, Eastman, and others which has helped us to accomplish wonders -in scientific advancement during the last twenty-five years. It has -been men of this type who have built research laboratories in the -American universities and endowed them generously.</p> - -<p>Of the many physical laboratories which have arisen in American -universities through private munificence since the time when, fifty -years ago, Joseph Henry, Barnard, Draper, Andrew White, and other -American scientists started the great movement for higher research -in science,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_376"></a>376</span> there may be mentioned, as an illustration, the Johns -Hopkins physical laboratory, the Jefferson laboratory at Harvard, the -Sloan laboratory at Yale, the Fayerweather laboratory at Columbia, or -the Ryerson laboratory at the University of Chicago. Similar research -facilities in other departments of physical science have been presented -to American universities by the public-spirited men of the United -States. But nothing has illustrated so well the possibilities of -intelligent public interest in and generosity to science as the rapid -rise of organized American science in the last twenty-five years, -culminating in the organization of the National Research Council.</p> - -<p>To an untrained eye, necessarily looking at scientific things from a -superficial view-point, the National Research Council will appear as a -splendid institution organized as our third arm of national defense, -an indispensable supplement to the Army and Navy. This conception -is perfectly natural, because the time and the conditions which -called the Council into existence during the World War were such as -to demand immediate scientific efforts for national defense. Other -somewhat similar organized efforts were made at that time, but those -organizations disappeared into thin air as soon as the armistice of -1918 was signed. The National Research Council did not disappear; it -is stronger to-day than ever before, because, although designed to be -an effective weapon in times of war, it is fundamentally an instrument -of peace. Another superficial view will reveal the National Research -Council as a splendid organization for the cultivation of an intimate -relationship between abstract science and the industries. This also is -as it should be; national defense in its broadest sense demands such -co-operation. But both these aspects of the Council, prominent aspects -to the superficial observer, reveal only the purely material gains -to accrue to this country from the Council’s activities. The anxious -question will<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_377"></a>377</span> therefore be: What contributions will this organized -scientific activity make to the spiritual welfare of the country?</p> - -<p>There are people who think that science with all its splendid -achievements is nevertheless materialistic, and that it cannot by -itself, no matter how well organized, advance the spiritual welfare of -a nation. Some even go so far as to maintain that national endeavors in -the direction of very extensive scientific research and very elaborate -scientific training are apt to interfere seriously with the spiritual -development of our national life. This is particularly true of people -who are stirred up, from time to time, by imaginary conflicts between -science and religion. I may be permitted here to state briefly how -science, as I see it cultivated by the men who are associated in the -National Research Council, will contribute to the spiritual welfare of -our nation by describing briefly some of its ideals.</p> - -<p>Fifty years ago Tyndall, as I have already mentioned, came to America -and helped to start the great scientific movement which has culminated -in the organization of the National Research Council. At that time -Andrew White, the famous president of Cornell, spoke the following -historic words in behalf of this historic movement, which I have been -watching since its very beginning, and actively aiding whenever an -opportunity presented itself:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Now, sir, I maintain that the true spirit of the scientific research, -embracing as it does zeal in search for truth, devotion to duty, -which such a search imposes, faith in good, as the normal and -necessary result of such a search ... that such a spirit is, at this -moment, one of the most needed elements in the political progress of -our country.</p> - -<p>What I maintain, then, is, that this zeal for truth as truth, this -faith in the good forever allied to the truth, this devotion to duty, -as the result of such faith and zeal, constitute probably the most -needed element at this moment in the political regeneration of this -country, and that, therefore, the example of our little army of true -devotees of science has an exceeding preciousness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_378"></a>378</span> -Their zeal, their devotion, their faith, furnish one of those very -protests which are most needed against that low tone of political -ideas which in its lower strata is political corruption. Their life -gives that very example of a high spirit, aim, and work, which the -time so greatly needs.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>The aims and aspirations and the life of American scientists have not -changed since Andrew White spoke these memorable words fifty years ago. -A life guided by aims and aspirations such as he describes is a life -of saints and not of ordinary materialistic clay. Such a life cannot -be attained without unceasing nursing of the spirit and unrelenting -suppression of the flesh. Men of Andrew White’s clearness of vision -will certainly tell you not only that the disciplined army of American -scientists mobilized under the flag of the National Research Council -will not interfere with the spiritual development of our national life, -but that, on the contrary, nothing else will advance that spiritual -development so rapidly and so irresistibly. The intellectual and -spiritual discipline which, according to White, our nation needs, is -certainly one of the ideals of these men of science.</p> - -<p>I shall mention now two other ideals. Just watch on some summer morning -how the early rays of the sun arouse the slumbering rose from its -blissful dreams, and remember that the rose responds because its body -and soul are tuned to the melodies which the glorious sunlight is -pouring into its enchanted ear. Remember also that what I have just -described is not merely a flowery figure of speech, but that it is a -concise description of a beautiful physical relationship, which science -has discovered in the life of the rose. I proceed a step further, -and ask: Have you ever feasted your joyful eye upon the beauties of -the landscape when on a golden May day you behold the blossoming -fruit-trees cover as far as your vision can reach the velvety green -turf of the numerous orchards of some blessed countryside? What does -each of these<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_379"></a>379</span> fruit-trees with its countless blossoms suggest to your -imagination? “The honey-hearted fruit of the mellow summer season,” -many of you will say. Yes, the blossom and the fruit are so far as the -untutored mind can see the beginning and the end of the short chain -of apparently commonplace events which make up the annually returning -life activity of the humble fruit-tree. Who cares what happens between -so beautiful a beginning and so satisfactory an end? The scientist -cares; his trained eye detects here an enchanting tale. Every one of -those fruit-trees on the golden May day appears to him like a bride -arrayed in the gayest of wedding raiment, waiting for the approaching -bridegroom. Its countless blossoms invite with longing lips the -life-giving kiss of the heavenly groom, the glorious sun. The balmy -breath of this golden bridegroom fills the air, kissing the lips of -every flower in the gay and festive orchards, and in the juicy pastures -and meadows. A heavenly thrill fills the hearts of these enamoured -blossoms, when, with sighs of delicious perfume, they, like blushing -brides, respond to the tender caresses of the heavenly bridegroom! Yes, -there will be honey-hearted fruit in the mellow summer season; the busy -bee knows it when it sucks its honey from the joyful bosoms of the -blessed brides; it knows that this honey is the first message to you -that the marriage between the heavenly bridegroom, the golden sun, and -the terrestrial brides, the countless blossoms, will be blessed with -many a heavenly offspring, the honey-hearted fruit of the mellow summer -season.</p> - -<p>This is, I admit, somewhat unusual language for a scientist to use. It -is, according to the opinion of many, unsuited to the description of -what people call the cold facts of science. They call them so, but is -their language justified? The physical facts of science are not cold, -unless your soul and your heart are cold. There is white heat somewhere -in every physical fact when we decipher<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_380"></a>380</span> correctly the message which -it conveys to us. A physical fact denotes activity, otherwise it could -not penetrate the depths of our consciousness. Activity is life, in -the broadest sense of this word. Death is cold, but life is hot, and -it is gross abuse of language to speak of cold facts of science. It is -such language that creates prejudice against science, representing its -methods as well as its results as devoid of everything which fires the -emotional side of man. Every physical fact has two terminals; one is in -our consciousness, and the other is in some star which is rejoicing in -the blazing vigor of its youth. Just as the life activity of the early -blossoms, and of the honey-hearted fruit of the mellow summer season, -has its origin in the life-giving breath of the heavenly bridegroom, -the glorious sun, so every terrestrial activity, every physical fact, -with one of its terminals anchored in our consciousness, can trace its -origin to the life-giving breath of some heavenly bridegroom, some -burning star. Just explore the path which leads from one of these -terminals to the other, and you will discover on each side of that path -those beauties which continually thrill the heart of a scientific man. -Do that and you will never again speak of the cold facts of science.</p> - -<p>Let me for illustration pursue one of these paths for a little -distance. Fifty years ago, when as a member of a herdsman’s squad of -boys I watched the stars on the black background of a summer midnight -sky, I felt that their fight was a language proclaiming the glory of -God.</p> - -<p>Has science changed that vision of the early childhood days? What does -that light convey to my mind to-day? The answer to this question was -born during my lifetime, and the gradual unfolding of its profound -meaning gave me the sweetest thrills of my life. Faraday and Maxwell -told me that light is a manifestation of the activity of electrical -force. The discovery of the Roentgen<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_381"></a>381</span> rays and of radioactivity taught -me that the primordial sources of electrical force are the positive and -the negative electrons, the electrons and the protons, the building -stones of matter, and that light is radiation, that is, propagation -into space of the electrical energy from the atomic structures in -which the electrons with their motions determine the character of the -structure and its energy content. Then came Thomson, the same Thomson -who scared me away from Cambridge, because I thought that he was too -young to be my teacher of physics, and he suggested that the electrons -possess an inertial mass on account of the electrical energy which -is stored up in them. This suggestion led to the generalization that -all electrical energy has mass possessing not only inertia but also -gravitational action. Who does not know to-day of this generalization, -and who has not heard of Einstein and of his verified prophecy that a -beam of light will be deflected by gravitational force? A beam of light -represents electrical energy and electrical energy is gravitationally -active just like any other mass considered by Newton. A star radiating -light radiates electrical energy, and, therefore, it throws out to us -a part of its own mass. When this radiation reaches us we can say, -therefore, without indulging in figures of speech that the star is -visiting us. I am not indulging in a flowery figure of speech when I -call solar radiation the balmy breath of the heavenly bridegroom, the -glorious sun.</p> - -<p>Fifty years ago, instructed by David’s psalms, I found in the light of -the stars a heavenly language which proclaims the glory of God, but I -did not know how that language reached me, and I hoped that some day -I might find out. That hope was in my soul when I landed at Castle -Garden. To-day science tells me that the stars themselves bring it to -me. Each burning star is a focus of energy, of life-giving activity, -which it pours out lavishly into every direction of the energy-hungry -space; it pours<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_382"></a>382</span> out the life of its own heart, in order to beget new -life. Oh, what a beautiful vista that opens to our imagination, and -what new beauties are disclosed by science in the meaning of the words -in Genesis: “He breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and -man became a living soul.” The light of the stars is a part of the -life-giving breath of God. I never look now upon the starlit vault -of the heaven without feeling this divine breath and its quickening -action upon my soul. But here I must stop. I feel the heavy hand of the -fundamentalist pulling me down, and the icy chill of his disapproving -voice reminds me that his theology will not permit an interpretation -of the words of Genesis which cannot be understood by people whose -knowledge of science is about the same as that of the Assyrians and -Chaldeans of several thousand years ago.</p> - -<p>I have taken some pains here to point to some beauties in one -particular department of physical science. Such beauties abound in -every other department of science, and they are in no respect inferior -to those which form the subject of the fine arts, like music, painting, -sculpture, and poetry. To cultivate the beautiful in science, is, -according to my view, the second ideal of the many loyal workers -associated in the National Research Council. Will that kind of science -interfere with the spiritual development of our national life?</p> - -<p>The third ideal may be described as follows: All changeable things -are subject to the play of evolution, and are mortal, from the tiny -flower in the field to the awe-inspiring cloud figure in the heavens -which is called the nebula of Orion. But the laws which the stars and -the planets obey in their paths through the heavens never change nor -grow old; they are immutable, they are immortal. The elements of the -microcosm, the electrons in the atom, are as far as we know immutable -and immortal, because man knows no natural process by which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_383"></a>383</span> the -electrons and the laws which they obey can ever be changed. They are -not the product of any natural process of evolution known to man. To -discover the immutable laws which this substantia, this immutable -foundation of the universe, obeys is the highest aim of scientific -research. The existence of these eternally unchangeable things -brings us face to face with a power which is the eternally immovable -background of all physical phenomena. We feel intuitively that science -will never penetrate the mysteries beyond it, but our faith encourages -us in the belief that there behind the impenetrable veil of this -eternal background is the throne of a divine power, the soul of the -physical world, the activity of which we contemplate in our research of -physical phenomena. I am sure that many loyal members of the National -Research Council believe that scientific research will bring us closer -to this divinity than any theology invented by man ever did. The -cultivation of this belief is certainly one of the ideals of American -science, represented by the men who are associated in the National -Research Council. In the face of this ideal, there certainly cannot be -any conflict between science and religion.</p> - -<p>I firmly believe that in the National Research Council we have an -organization which represents the mobilized scientific intellect of -the United States, which in the pursuit of its lofty ideals will some -day succeed in creating in our democracy a profound respect for the -services of the highly trained intellect. A democracy which believes -that its destiny should be intrusted to the leadership of men of -training, discipline, and lofty aspirations and knows how to secure -the services of such men is a democracy which is safe for the world. -Such a democracy, I believe, was the vision of the scientific men -who, fifty years ago, started the great movement for higher endeavor. -Such a democracy will lead some day to what I call ideal democracy, -that is, a state organism in which each human<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_384"></a>384</span> unit contributes its -definite share to the physical and mental activity of the organism. The -relation of the individual to the social body in an ideal democracy, -as I conceive it, will be very similar to the relation of our cells -to our body. Activities of individuals will be coordinated, just as -the activities of our cells are, so that one composite mind will guide -the resultant activities of the whole social body. This is the mind -which my friend, General J. J. Carty, the distinguished engineer and -philosopher, calls the “supermind.” A well selected name, because it -suggests the name “superman” for ideal democracy, and thus attaches to -this somewhat vague concept of recent years a definite meaning. The -general is a strong believer in the theory that by evolutionary steps -we are gradually approaching the state of ideal democracy. He has lived -some forty years in the most perfect industrial organization of the -world, the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, and, naturally, he -cannot help being an ardent follower and enthusiastic advocate of the -belief in the advent of ideal democracy. But is there anything in the -history of the evolutionary progress of the world which justifies this -comforting belief? I think there is.</p> - -<p>The Greeks of old believed that the world started with chaos, and -that out of the chaos came the cosmos. They were optimists, because -in their theory coordination, order, and beauty were evolved out of -hideous disorder. There are many pessimists to-day who prophesy the -opposite course of development of this, in their opinion, most wicked -world. Modern science confirms the ancient belief of the Greeks in a -remarkable manner. Nothing else so resembles that chaotic start of the -world which the ancients conceived as does the activity of a young -star, because nothing more completely illustrates lack of order and -coordination. Each one of its pulsating atoms is indifferent to the -white-heat activity of the myriads<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_385"></a>385</span> of neighboring atoms, and each one -of them pours out its energy in an unconcerned and most prodigal manner -into the energy-hungry space. Consider our sun, as an illustration. -Tiny energy units are projected from myriads and myriads of its atomic -guns in haphazard fashion, apparently without any definite aim. These -energy units are propagated through space in a perfectly chaotic -fashion, without a definite object in view so far as science can tell. -But their fate and destiny are fixed and determined as soon as they -arrive on mother earth and are caught by the leaves, the blossoms, and -the ripening fruit of the fields, meadows, and orchards, and by the -endless nets of the all embracing oceans. The chaotic, non-coordinated -energy-swarms are thus imprisoned and made to work together with a -definite aim and for a definite purpose. The joys and beauties of our -annual seasons will tell you the story of this wonderful transformation -of primordial energy from the chaos of the young stars, white hot -with joy of life, to the cosmos of the old, cold, and moribund earth. -The principal lesson of this story is the great physical fact that -terrestrial organisms have instrumentalities with which they coordinate -the non-coordinated, thus bringing the order of old age out of the -disorder of youth, final cosmos out of primordial chaos. Is not the -existence of these instrumentalities the fundamental guiding principle -in the development of terrestrial life? Does not all our experience -teach us that progress means more complete coordination of all natural -activities, the activities of the atoms in the burning stars as well as -of the cells in our terrestrial bodies? Call this progress evolution, -or anything else you please, it certainly is there, and it leads to -a more beautiful and a more perfect order of things. The most nearly -perfect product of these coordinating instrumentalities is man—after -man, what? Yes, a superman; but what will that superman be? The present -man, with his physical and mental faculties more highly -developed?—or the superman as represented by what I call ideal -democracy? Carty, guided by his life experience and by the opinion -of some biologists and philosophers, favors the latter view. There -certainly is something in the evolutionary progress of the world which -favors the view that the coordinating instrumentalities which guide the -activities of every organism, and which are very powerful in man, may -enable us some day to find a way of coordinating the non-coordinated -activities of the many millions of individuals of a great community -like these United States, and thus of creating an ideal democracy. I -see in the organization of the National Research Council the first step -in that direction.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p class="mb0"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_386"></a>386</span> -THE WHITE HOUSE</p> -<p class="pl6 mt0">WASHINGTON</p> - -<p class="center">October 14, 1922.</p> - -<p class="noi">My dear Doctor Pupin:</p> - -<p>I accept with regret your resignation as a member of the National -Advisory Committee for Aeronautics. In doing so I want to express -to you the thanks of the Government and people of the United States -of your services as a member of the National Advisory Committee for -Aeronautics since its organization in 1915.</p> - -<p>I take this occasion to record recognition and appreciation -of the fact that, as Chairman of the Subcommittee on Aircraft -Communications, during the World War you undertook to develop a -reliable means of communication between aircraft in flight, and -that, by virtue of experiments conducted and directed in your own -laboratory, you were successful in contributing in an important -respect to the development of one of the great marvels of our age, -the radio telephone.</p> - -<p>I regret that you cannot continue to devote your talents to the -scientific study of the problems of flight as a member of the -National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics.</p> - -<p class="center">Most sincerely yours,</p> - -<div class="figcenter width200" id="signature"> - <img src="images/signature.jpg" width="200" height="50" alt="Warren G. Harding signature" /> -</div> - -<p class="noi">Dr. Michael I. Pupin,<br /> -Columbia University,<br /> -New York City.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="figcenter width500" id="letter"> - <img src="images/letter-i.jpg" width="500" height="582" alt="" /> - <div class="caption">Facsimile of Letter from President Harding</div> -<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop center"><a href="images/letter.jpg" rel="nofollow">See larger view</a></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_387"></a>387</span> -Ideal democracy, if attainable at all, will certainly be attainable in -our country, whose traditions are gradually eliminating racial hatreds -and suspicions and making them unknown human passions on this blessed -continent. If I have ever contributed anything substantial to the -progress of this splendid movement, whether as an immigrant or as an -inventor, it has been most amply rewarded by the generous spirit of the -letter on the opposite page, written by a man whom I had the honor of -knowing personally and who to me always represented the ideal type of a -genuine American.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>These few concluding lines I wrote on the day when this good American -breathed his last. His memory will always encourage us in the belief -that our blessed country is destined to become the first ideal -democracy of the world.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_388"></a>388</span> -</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_389"></a>389</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="index">INDEX</h2> - -<ul class="index"> -<li>Action and reaction in electricity, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>–<a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li>Adams, John Crouch, <a href="#Page_181">181</a></li> - -<li>Adams, President, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li>Adelphi Academy, Brooklyn, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>–<a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a></li> - -<li>Alexander the Liberator, Czar, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a></li> - -<li>Alhazan, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li>Alps, travels in, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>–<a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li>Alternating-current theory, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>–<a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> - -<li>American Association for the Advancement of Science, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a></li> - -<li>American Institute of Electrical Engineers, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>–<a href="#Page_362">362</a></li> - -<li>American Institute of Mining and Metallurgical Engineers, <a href="#Page_359">359</a></li> - -<li><cite>American Journal of Science</cite>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li>American Mathematical Society, <a href="#Page_352">352</a></li> - -<li>American Philosophical Society, <a href="#Page_363">363</a></li> - -<li>American Physical Society, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>–<a href="#Page_353">353</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a></li> - -<li>American scientific progress, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>–<a href="#Page_384">384</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>American Society of Civil Engineers, <a href="#Page_359">359</a></li> - -<li>American Society of Mechanical Engineers, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_364">364</a></li> - -<li>American Telephone and Telegraph Company, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>–<a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a></li> - -<li>Americanization, <a href="#Page_318">318</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Ames, Joseph Sweetman, <a href="#Page_256">256</a></li> - -<li>Ampère, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Appel, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Arago, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Archimedes, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li> - -<li>Aristides, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li> - -<li>Aristotle, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li> - -<li>Armour & Co., <a href="#Page_344">344</a></li> - -<li>Armstrong, Major E. H., <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Armstrong, Hamilton Fish, <a href="#Page_316">316</a></li> - -<li>Arran (island), <a href="#Page_212">212</a>–<a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> - -<li>Aspern (battle), <a href="#Page_6">6</a></li> - -<li><cite>Astronomy and Astrophysics</cite>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li><a id="Atomic"></a>Atomic structure, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>–<a href="#Page_386">386</a>. <em>See also</em> <a href="#Matter">Matter, nature of</a>, <em>and</em> <a href="#Electrons">Electrons</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Bacon, Roger, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li>Bagpiper, Serbian, <a href="#Page_19">19</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Baker’s wagon, painting of, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> - -<li>Banat, life and experiences in, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>–<a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>–<a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>, <a href="#Page_346">346</a></li> - -<li>Barnard, President, of Columbia University, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>–<a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Barrett, Lawrence, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> - -<li>Batikin, Baba, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>–<a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></li> - -<li>Becquerel, <a href="#Page_350">350</a></li> - -<li>Beecher, Doctor Henry Ward, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>–<a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a></li> - -<li>Belgrade, experiences in, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li>Belgrade University, <a href="#Page_317">317</a></li> - -<li>Bell, Alexander Graham, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li>Berlin, experiences and study in, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>–<a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a></li> - -<li>Berlin, studies at University of, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>–<a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a></li> - -<li>Bessemer process, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li> - -<li><cite>Bible, The</cite>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>, <a href="#Page_382">382</a></li> - -<li>Bilharz, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>–<a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>–<a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a></li> - -<li>Biscuit factory experiences, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>–<a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>–<a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li>Bismarck, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li>Booth, Edwin, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li> - -<li>Bowery Mission, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li> - -<li>Bradley, <a href="#Page_285">285</a></li> - -<li>Brown (New Jersey farmer), <a href="#Page_66">66</a>–<a href="#Page_68">68</a></li> - -<li>Browning, Oscar, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>–<a href="#Page_173">173</a></li> - -<li>Bryant, William Cullen, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_390"></a>390</span></li> - -<li>Budapest experiences, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>–<a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li>Bukovala’s mill, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li> - -<li>Bull, Doctor, <a href="#Page_307">307</a></li> - -<li>Burgess, Professor, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a></li> - -<li>Butler, Prescott Hall, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a></li> - -<li>Butler, President Nicholas Murray, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Cambridge University, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>–<a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>–<a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>–<a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a></li> - -<li>Campbell, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a></li> - -<li>Canal rays, <a href="#Page_304">304</a></li> - -<li>Cane rush, Columbia, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li> - -<li>Carnegie, Andrew, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>–<a href="#Page_365">365</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Carnegie Corporation of New York, <a href="#Page_371">371</a></li> - -<li>Carnegie Institution of Washington, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a></li> - -<li>Carnot, Sadi, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> - -<li>Carter, Mr. (of Norfolk), <a href="#Page_328">328</a></li> - -<li>Carty, General J. J., <a href="#Page_384">384</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a></li> - -<li>Castle Garden, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>–<a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Cathode rays, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Cavendish, Lord, <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li>Cavendish Physics Laboratory, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li>Cayley, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li> - -<li>Centennial Exposition, Philadelphia, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> - -<li>Century Club, <a href="#Page_308">308</a></li> - -<li>Chanler, John Armstrong, <a href="#Page_135">135</a></li> - -<li>Charnoyevich, Patriarch, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a></li> - -<li>Chicago University, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Choate, Joseph, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></li> - -<li>Christian of West Street, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>–<a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> - -<li>Christopher (kindling-wood peddler), <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li> - -<li>Chuchuk Stana, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li>Church in Delaware City, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>;</li> -<li class="sub">in Brooklyn, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>–<a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> - -<li>Cicero, <a href="#Page_112">112</a></li> - -<li>Civil War, United States, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a></li> - -<li>Clark, Latimer, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a></li> - -<li>Columbia College and University, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>–<a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>–<a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>–<a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>–<a href="#Page_137">137</a>, -<a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>–<a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>–<a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>–<a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Cooper, Peter, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li>Cooper Union, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>–<a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>–<a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li>Copernicus, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li> - -<li>Cornell University, <a href="#Page_377">377</a></li> - -<li>Corrie, summer at, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>–<a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> - -<li>Cortlandt Street cracker factory, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>–<a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>–<a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li>Coulomb’s law, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a></li> - -<li>Cracker-factory experiences, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>–<a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>–<a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li>Crawford, F. Marion, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> - -<li>Crocker, Professor Francis Bacon, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>–<a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a></li> - -<li>Crookes, William, <a href="#Page_303">303</a></li> - -<li>Curie, Madame, <a href="#Page_350">350</a></li> - -<li>Custozza (battle), <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Danube, journey on, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>–<a href="#Page_25">25</a></li> - -<li>Darboux, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Darwin, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li> - -<li>Davy, <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li> - -<li>Dayton, New Jersey, farm experiences, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>–<a href="#Page_68">68</a></li> - -<li>Declaration of Independence, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a></li> - -<li>De Forest, Lee, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Delaware farm experiences, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>–<a href="#Page_56">56</a></li> - -<li>Democracy, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>–<a href="#Page_387">387</a></li> - -<li>De Morgan, Professor, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> - -<li>Dennis, Doctor Frederick Shepard, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>–<a href="#Page_324">324</a></li> - -<li>Dernburg, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - -<li>de Tocqueville, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a></li> - -<li>Devonshire, Duke of, <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li>DeWitt, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> - -<li>Dindorf (philologist), <a href="#Page_131">131</a></li> - -<li>Direct current theory, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>–<a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li>Discharge of electricity in corona form, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li>Distortions in alternating current, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> - -<li>Draper, Doctor John William, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Duncan, Doctor Louis, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li>Dunn, Gano, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Eastman, George, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Eastman Kodak Company, <a href="#Page_341">341</a></li> - -<li>Ebert, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li>Edison, Thomas, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li>Edison General Electric Company, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li>Eilers (of cracker factory), <a href="#Page_72">72</a></li> - -<li>Einstein, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>–<a href="#Page_356">356</a></li> - -<li>Electrical Congress, Chicago, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li>Electrical Engineering Department, Columbia, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>–<a href="#Page_310">310</a></li> - -<li><cite>Electrical Researches</cite> (Faraday), <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>–<a href="#Page_229">229</a></li> - -<li>Electricity, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">passim</i></li> - -<li><cite>Electricity</cite>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a></li> - -<li>Electromagnetic Induction, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> - -<li>Electromagnetic theory of light and matter, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>–<a href="#Page_229">229</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>–<a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>–<a href="#Page_271">271</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>–<a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>–<a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>–<a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>–<a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Electron Physics, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>–<a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li><a id="Electrons"></a>Electrons, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>–<a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a></li> - -<li>Emmet, Devereux, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> - -<li>Engineering Foundation, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>–<a href="#Page_368">368</a></li> - -<li>English, study of, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> - -<li>Ericsson, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> - -<li>Ether, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></li> - -<li>Eugene of Savoy, Prince, <a href="#Page_5">5</a></li> - -<li>Evarts, William, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li> - -<li><cite>Evening Post</cite>, New York, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li> - -<li>Evolution, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>–<a href="#Page_387">387</a></li> - -<li>Ewing, General Thomas, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li><cite>Experimental Researches in Electricity</cite> (Faraday), <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>–<a href="#Page_229">229</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Farad (electrical unit), <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li>Faraday, Michael, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>–<a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>–<a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>–<a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>–<a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>–<a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_380">380</a></li> - -<li><cite>Faraday as Discoverer</cite> (Tyndall), <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> - -<li>Fayerweather Laboratory, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Fehispan, governor of Torontal, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>–<a href="#Page_164">164</a></li> - -<li>Fish, Frederick P., <a href="#Page_340">340</a></li> - -<li>Fiske, <a href="#Page_352">352</a></li> - -<li>Fizeau, <a href="#Page_257">257</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_391"></a>391</span></li> - -<li>Fluorescent screens, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a></li> - -<li>Foucault, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Fourier, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>France, summer in, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>–<a href="#Page_189">189</a>;</li> -<li class="sub">visit to, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></li> - -<li>Francis, Emperor, <a href="#Page_5">5</a></li> - -<li>Francis Joseph, Emperor, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a></li> - -<li>Franklin, Benjamin, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a></li> - -<li>Franklin Institute, <a href="#Page_348">348</a></li> - -<li>Fred (friend of Jim the engineer), <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li> - -<li>Frederick, Crown Prince, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li>Frederick the Great, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>–<a href="#Page_7">7</a></li> - -<li>French scientific progress, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></li> - -<li>Fresnel, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Frushka Gora (mountain), <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Gabriel, son of Milutin, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>–<a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li>Gaenserndorf, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a></li> - -<li>Galileo, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>–<a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a></li> - -<li>Gallatin, Albert R., <a href="#Page_296">296</a></li> - -<li>Garibaldi, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a></li> - -<li>Geltner, Professor, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li>General Electric Company, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>General Relativity Theory, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></li> - -<li>Generators, electrical, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - -<li><a id="Germans"></a>Germans, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> -<li class="sub">social democracy, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>;</li> -<li class="sub">scientific progress, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>–<a href="#Page_264">264</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Germany, studies in, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>–<a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a></li> - -<li>Gessler, <a href="#Page_147">147</a></li> - -<li>Ghiga (peasant), <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li> - -<li>Gibbons, Cardinal, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - -<li>Gibbs, Professor Josiah Willard, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li>Godfather of author, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li>Goethe, <a href="#Page_86">86</a></li> - -<li>Goldstein, Doctor, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>–<a href="#Page_305">305</a></li> - -<li>Goodyear, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li>Graduation from Columbia, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> - -<li>Grant, <a href="#Page_79">79</a></li> - -<li>Gravitation, nature of, <a href="#Page_354">354</a></li> - -<li>Green, Mr. (of Marconi Co.), <a href="#Page_343">343</a>–<a href="#Page_345">345</a></li> - -<li>Grounding, importance of electrical, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Hale, Doctor George Ellery, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a></li> - -<li><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_392"></a>392</span> -Hamilton, Alexander, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li>Hamilton, Duke of, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li> - -<li>Hamilton Hall, Columbia University, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> - -<li>Harding, President Warren G., <a href="#Page_386">386</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a></li> - -<li>Harvard University, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Hayduk Velyko, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li>Hayes, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li> - -<li>Heat, nature of, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a></li> - -<li><cite>Heat as a Mode of Motion</cite> (Tyndall), <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li>Heaviside, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>–<a href="#Page_335">335</a></li> - -<li>Hebert Prize of French Academy, <a href="#Page_348">348</a></li> - -<li>Helmholtz, Hermann von, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>–<a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>–<a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>–<a href="#Page_264">264</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>–<a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a></li> - -<li>Henry (electrical unit), <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li>Henry, Frank, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></li> - -<li>Henry, Joseph, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>–<a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Henry, Patrick, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> - -<li>Herdsman, experiences in Idvor as, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>–<a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a></li> - -<li>Hermite, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Herschel, William, <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li> - -<li>Hertz, Doctor Heinrich, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>–<a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a></li> - -<li>Hertzian oscillator, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>–<a href="#Page_270">270</a></li> - -<li>Hilendar (monastery), <a href="#Page_70">70</a></li> - -<li>Hittorf, <a href="#Page_303">303</a></li> - -<li>Hoffman, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li>Hohenzollern, William, <a href="#Page_112">112</a></li> - -<li>Homer, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></li> - -<li>Hook, <a href="#Page_334">334</a></li> - -<li>Hoover, Herbert, <a href="#Page_314">314</a></li> - -<li>Horace, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li>Horse training in Norfolk, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>–<a href="#Page_326">326</a></li> - -<li>Howe, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li>Hunt, Robert, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li> - -<li>Huss, Yan, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li>Hutchinson, Doctor Cary T., <a href="#Page_337">337</a></li> - -<li>Huxley, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Idealism in American science, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>–<a href="#Page_384">384</a></li> - -<li>Idvor, life and experiences in, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>–<a href="#Page_22">22</a>, -<a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>–<a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>–<a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>–<a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>–<a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_346">346</a></li> - -<li>Inductance coils, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>–<a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a></li> - -<li>Induction, Electromagnetic, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Jackson, A. V. Williams, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a></li> - -<li>Jacoby, <a href="#Page_352">352</a></li> - -<li>Jay, John, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li>Jefferson, Thomas, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li>Jefferson physical laboratory, Harvard, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Jim (boiler-room engineer), <a href="#Page_74">74</a>–<a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>–<a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> - -<li>Johns Hopkins University, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>–<a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Karageorge, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>–<a href="#Page_9">9</a></li> - -<li>Karlovci, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>–<a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li>Kellogg, Doctor Vernon, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Kelvin, Lord (Sir William Thomson), <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a></li> - -<li>Kepler, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li>Kessedjia, Moussa, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></li> - -<li>Kirchhoff, Gustav Robert, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a></li> - -<li>Koenig, Professor Arthur, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>–<a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></li> - -<li>Kos (Slovenian teacher), <a href="#Page_19">19</a>–<a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li>Kossovo (battle), <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li> - -<li>Kossuth, <a href="#Page_163">163</a></li> - -<li>Krupp, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Labor Bureau, Castle Garden, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li>La Grange, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a></li> - -<li>Lansing, Robert, <a href="#Page_2">2</a></li> - -<li>Laplace, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Lectures given for laboratory equipment, <a href="#Page_280">280</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a></li> - -<li>Lenard, Professor, <a href="#Page_305">305</a></li> - -<li>Leopold I, Emperor, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a></li> - -<li><cite>Life of Maxwell</cite> (Campbell), <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> - -<li>Light, nature of, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>–<a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>–<a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li> - -<li>Lincoln, Abraham, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, -<a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a></li> - -<li>Lines of force, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>–<a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>–<a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>–<a href="#Page_271">271</a></li> - -<li>Ling (of King’s College choir), <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> - -<li>Lippmann, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Livingston, Chancellor, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> - -<li>Longfellow, Henry W., <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li> - -<li>Lorentz, Professor, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></li> - -<li>Low, President, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a></li> - -<li>Lucerne experiences, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>–<a href="#Page_150">150</a></li> - -<li>Lukanitch family, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>–<a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li>Lyermontoff (poet), <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li> - -<li>Lyubomir, <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Macmillan homestead, Corrie, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> - -<li>Macnamara, Jane, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a></li> - -<li>Madge of Corrie, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li> - -<li>Magnetism, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>–<a href="#Page_229">229</a></li> - -<li>Marconi, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></li> - -<li>Marconi Company of America, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>–<a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a></li> - -<li>Maria Theresa, Empress, <a href="#Page_5">5</a></li> - -<li>Marko, Prince, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li> - -<li>Massachusetts Institute of Technology, <a href="#Page_359">359</a></li> - -<li><a id="Matter"></a>Matter, nature of, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>–<a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>. <em>See also</em> <a href="#Electrons">Electrons</a>, <a href="#Atomic">Atomic structure, etc.</a></li> - -<li><cite>Matter and Motion</cite> (Maxwell), <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> - -<li>Maxwell, James Clerk, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>–<a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>–<a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>–<a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>–<a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>–<a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>–<a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>–<a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>–<a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>–<a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_380">380</a></li> - -<li>Mayo-Smith, Professor Richmond, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> - -<li>McCormick, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li>McCullough, John, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> - -<li><cite>Méchanique Analytique</cite> (La Grange), <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> - -<li>“Men of Progress” (painting), <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_393"></a>393</span></li> - -<li>Merriam, Professor, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> - -<li>Michael (college janitor), <a href="#Page_114">114</a></li> - -<li>Michelson, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></li> - -<li>Miletich, Svetozar, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a></li> - -<li>Milton, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li>Moltke, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li>Momentum in electricity, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li>Morley, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></li> - -<li>Morse, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li>Motion, electric (in rarefied gases), <a href="#Page_303">303</a>–<a href="#Page_306">306</a></li> - -<li>Moula Pasha, <a href="#Page_6">6</a></li> - -<li>Mount Wilson Astronomical Observatory, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a></li> - -<li>Mueller (glass-blower), <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Napoleon, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>–<a href="#Page_7">7</a></li> - -<li>Nassau Hall, Princeton, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a></li> - -<li>National Academy of Sciences, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a></li> - -<li>National Institute of Social Sciences, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a></li> - -<li>National Research Council, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>–<a href="#Page_383">383</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a></li> - -<li>Naturalization, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> - -<li><cite>Nature</cite>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></li> - -<li>Nemanya, Zhupan, <a href="#Page_10">10</a></li> - -<li>“Neptune, Father,” <a href="#Page_139">139</a>–<a href="#Page_142">142</a></li> - -<li>Nettleton, Mr. (of Norfolk), <a href="#Page_327">327</a>–<a href="#Page_329">329</a></li> - -<li>New England Cracker Factory, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>–<a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>–<a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li>New Physics, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>–<a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>New York, landing in, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>–<a href="#Page_42">42</a></li> - -<li>New York Academy of Sciences, <a href="#Page_309">309</a></li> - -<li>New York Mathematical Society, <a href="#Page_352">352</a></li> - -<li>New York Rapid Transit Commission, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li>Newton, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>–<a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a></li> - -<li>Niagara Falls Power and Construction Company, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></li> - -<li>Nikola (Serbian cigarette seller), <a href="#Page_252">252</a>–<a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>–<a href="#Page_276">276</a></li> - -<li>Niven, W. D., <a href="#Page_143">143</a>–<a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>–<a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_394"></a>394</span></li> - -<li>Norfolk, Conn., life at, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>–<a href="#Page_329">329</a></li> - -<li>Nyegosh, Bishop (poet), <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Octagon class, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> - -<li>Oerstedt, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></li> - -<li>Osborn, Henry Fairfield, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></li> - -<li>Oscillator, Hertzian, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>–<a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></li> - -<li>Oxen herding in Idvor, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>–<a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Palacky, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>–<a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li>Panchevo, experiences in, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>–<a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>–<a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>–<a href="#Page_318">318</a></li> - -<li>Paris peace conference, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li>Parkinson, Stephen, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li> - -<li>Parsons, William Barclay, <a href="#Page_286">286</a></li> - -<li>Pashitch, Premier, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li>Paul (of the cracker factory), <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a></li> - -<li>Penn, William, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> - -<li>Perrin, <a href="#Page_349">349</a></li> - -<li>Philadelphia, early experiences in, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> - -<li>Phonograph, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a></li> - -<li>Physical Society, Berlin, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>–<a href="#Page_271">271</a></li> - -<li>Physics, New and Electron, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>–<a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Pickernell, Mr., <a href="#Page_335">335</a></li> - -<li>Planck, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li><cite>Plea for Pure Science, A</cite> (Rowland), <a href="#Page_291">291</a></li> - -<li>Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>–<a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li> - -<li><cite>Poetry of Science, The</cite> (Hunt), <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li>Poincaré, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Pornic, vacation in, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>–<a href="#Page_189">189</a></li> - -<li>Power distribution, electrical, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li><cite>Practical Aspects of the Alternating Current Theory</cite> (Pupin), lecture, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a></li> - -<li>Prague, experiences in, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>–<a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> - -<li>Preceptorial system in college, <a href="#Page_326">326</a></li> - -<li>Princeton University, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>–<a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a></li> - -<li>Privilegia (document), <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a></li> - -<li>Problems of physical universe, <a href="#Page_354">354</a></li> - -<li>Prussians, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>–<a href="#Page_255">255</a>. <em>See also</em> <a href="#Germans">Germans</a></li> - -<li>Pupin coil, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>–<a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a></li> - -<li>Pupin, Constantine (father of author), <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>–<a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li> - -<li>Pupin, Mrs. Michael, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>–<a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>–<a href="#Page_332">332</a></li> - -<li>Pupin, Olympiada (mother of author), <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>–<a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>–<a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>–<a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>–<a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li> - -<li>Pyne, Moses Taylor, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Radichevich, Branko, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></li> - -<li><a id="Radio"></a>Radio, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>–<a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Radioactivity, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a></li> - -<li>Radium, <a href="#Page_350">350</a></li> - -<li>Rayleigh, Lord, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a></li> - -<li>Regnault, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li> - -<li>Relativity theories, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></li> - -<li>Research, progress of America in, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>–<a href="#Page_384">384</a></li> - -<li>Resonance, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>–<a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li>Resonators, electrical, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>–<a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> - -<li>Reymond, DuBois, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li>Rieger, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>–<a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li>Rittenhouse, <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li> - -<li>Rives, George, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> - -<li>Rives, Reginald, <a href="#Page_326">326</a></li> - -<li>Rockefeller, John D., <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Rockefeller Foundation, <a href="#Page_371">371</a></li> - -<li>Rockefeller General Education Board, <a href="#Page_371">371</a></li> - -<li>Roentgen, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_350">350</a></li> - -<li><a id="Roentgen"></a>Roentgen rays, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_329">329</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_380">380</a>. <em>See also</em> <a href="#X-rays">X-rays</a></li> - -<li>Rood, Professor, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a></li> - -<li>Routh, Doctor John Edward, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>–<a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>–<a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a></li> - -<li>Rowland, Henry Augustus, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>–<a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>–<a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Royal Serbian Academy, <a href="#Page_317">317</a></li> - -<li>Rumford, Count (Benjamin Thompson), <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li> - -<li>Rutherford, Sir Ernest, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a></li> - -<li>Rutherford Park, N. J., summer at, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>–<a href="#Page_113">113</a></li> - -<li>Rutherfurd, Lewis, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> - -<li>Rutherfurd, Lewis Morris, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>–<a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>–<a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a></li> - -<li>Rutherfurd, Winthrop, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>–<a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a></li> - -<li>Ryerson Laboratory, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">St. Sava, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>–<a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> - -<li>School life in Idvor, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>–<a href="#Page_12">12</a>; -in Panchevo, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li> - -<li><cite>Science</cite>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a></li> - -<li><cite>Scientific American</cite>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a></li> - -<li>Scientific progress and research, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>–<a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>–<a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>–<a href="#Page_264">264</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>–<a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>–<a href="#Page_384">384</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Scientific research, American progress in, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>–<a href="#Page_310">310</a></li> - -<li>Scientific research and the universities, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>–<a href="#Page_343">343</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>–<a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Scotland, summer in, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>–<a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> - -<li>Serbian Child Welfare Association of America, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li>Serbs, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>–<a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>–<a href="#Page_168">168</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et passim</i></li> - -<li>Shakespeare, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li> - -<li>Shepard, Doctor Charles, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>–<a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li>Siemens, Ernst Werner von, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a></li> - -<li>Siemens and Halske, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a></li> - -<li>Signalling by herdsmen of Idvor, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>–<a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a></li> - -<li>Sing Sing prison, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> - -<li>Singers, Serbian, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></li> - -<li>Sloan Laboratory, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Smith, Professor Monroe, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> - -<li>Smithsonian Institution, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li> - -<li>Snellius, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li>Sobiesky, King, <a href="#Page_3">3</a></li> - -<li>Solar corona, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li>Solar phenomena, electromagnetic theory of, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> - -<li>Sorbonne, the, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li>Sound, early herdsman’s experiments, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>–<a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>;</li> -<li class="sub">transmission, <a href="#Page_333">333</a></li> - -<li>South St. Mary, Md., <a href="#Page_58">58</a></li> - -<li>Special Relativity Theory, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></li> - -<li>Sprague, Frank J., <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> - -<li>Steel industry, German, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li> - -<li>Stillwell, Lewis B., <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> - -<li>Stokes, Sir George Gabriel, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li> - -<li>Stowe, Harriet Beecher, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li>Strazhilovo, Will, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li>Subways, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li><cite>Summary and Conclusions</cite> (Tyndall), <a href="#Page_204">204</a>–<a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li><cite>Sun</cite>, New York, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_395">395</a></span></li> - -<li>Swasey, Ambrose, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>–<a href="#Page_365">365</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a></li> - -<li>Swift Company, <a href="#Page_344">344</a></li> - -<li>Switzerland, experiences in, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>–<a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Telegraphy, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a></li> - -<li>Telephony, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>–<a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>–<a href="#Page_348">348</a></li> - -<li>Tell, William, <a href="#Page_147">147</a></li> - -<li><cite>Tendencies of Modern Electrical Research</cite> (Pupin), <a href="#Page_309">309</a></li> - -<li>Tesla, <a href="#Page_285">285</a></li> - -<li><cite>Theory of Heat</cite> (Maxwell), <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> - -<li>Theses for doctor’s degree, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li>Thomas, Sidney Gilchrist, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li> - -<li>Thompson, Benjamin (Count Rumford), <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li> - -<li>Thomson, Elihu, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li>Thomson-Houston Company, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> - -<li>Thomson, Sir John Joseph, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a></li> - -<li>Thomson, Sir William (Lord Kelvin), <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>, <a href="#Page_363">363</a></li> - -<li>Tilden, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> - -<li>Tilton, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li>Tolstoy, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></li> - -<li>Traction, electrical, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> - -<li>Traditions, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> - -<li><cite>Transactions of the American Institute of Electrical Engineers</cite>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> - -<li>Transmission and motion of electricity, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>–<a href="#Page_306">306</a></li> - -<li><cite>Tribune</cite>, New York, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> - -<li>Tuning, electrical, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>–<a href="#Page_299">299</a>. <em>See also</em> <a href="#Radio">Radio</a></li> - -<li>Tyndall, John, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>–<a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>–<a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_377">377</a></li> - -<li>Tyndall Fellowship, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2"><cite>Uncle Tom’s Cabin</cite> (Stowe), <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li>United Engineering Society, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>–<a href="#Page_365">365</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Vacuum tubes, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>–<a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Van Amringe, Professor Howard, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a></li> - -<li><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_396">396</a></span> -<cite>Van Nostrand Magazine</cite>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a></li> - -<li>Vaschy, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>–<a href="#Page_335">335</a></li> - -<li>Velocity, electrical, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> - -<li>Vibratory motion, transmission of, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>–<a href="#Page_338">338</a></li> - -<li>Vienna experiences, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>–<a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></li> - -<li>“Vila” of Delaware farm, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>–<a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> - -<li>Vila Raviyoyla, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li> - -<li>Vitellio, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li>Vreeland, Mr. (inventor of oscillator), <a href="#Page_19">19</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">War, World, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>–<a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Warner, Mr., <a href="#Page_364">364</a></li> - -<li>Warner and Swasey shops, <a href="#Page_364">364</a></li> - -<li>Washington, George, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a></li> - -<li>Washington, Martha, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li> - -<li>Watt, James, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> - -<li>Webster, Arthur Gordon, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>–<a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a></li> - -<li>Webster, Daniel, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li>Webster, Professor at Adelphi Academy, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> - -<li>Welch, Professor William, <a href="#Page_184">184</a></li> - -<li>Western Electric Company, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li>Westinghouse Company, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a></li> - -<li><i>Westphalia</i> (ship), <a href="#Page_35">35</a>–<a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a></li> - -<li>Wheeler, Doctor Schuyler Skaats, <a href="#Page_361">361</a></li> - -<li>White, Andrew D., <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>, <a href="#Page_377">377</a>, <a href="#Page_378">378</a></li> - -<li>Widener, Mr., <a href="#Page_326">326</a></li> - -<li>William I, Emperor, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li>Wilson, President Woodrow, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>–<a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>, <a href="#Page_370">370</a></li> - -<li>“Wilson Day” in Panchevo, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>–<a href="#Page_318">318</a></li> - -<li>Wireless, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>–<a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a></li> - -<li><cite>Worcester Gazette</cite>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a></li> - -<li>World War, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_369">369</a>–<a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2"><a id="X-rays"></a>X-rays, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>–<a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>. <em>See also</em> <a href="#Roentgen">Roentgen</a> rays</li> - - -<li class="mt2">Yale University, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a></li> - -<li>Yevrosima (mother of Prince Marko), <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li> - -<li>Youmans, <a href="#Page_320">320</a></li> - -<li>Young, Professor Charles A., <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li>Young, Thomas, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - - -<li class="mt2">Zhivkovich, Protoyeray, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a></li> - -<li>Zhizhka (general), <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> -</ul> - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop divider" /> -</div> -<div class="tn"> -<p class="center">Transcriber’s Note:</p> - -<p class="noi">Punctuation has been standardised. Spelling and -variations in hyphenation have been retained as they appeared -in the original publication except as follows:</p> - -<ul> -<li>Page 22<br /> -Zivkovich came to my defense <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#Zhivkovich">Zhivkovich</a> came to my defense</li> - -<li>Page 96<br /> -and a a big tear threatened <i>changed to</i><br /> -and <a href="#aa">a</a> big tear threatened</li> - -<li>Page 257<br /> -Hermite, Darboux, Appell, Lippmann, <i>changed to</i><br /> -Hermite, Darboux, <a href="#Appel">Appel</a>, Lippmann,</li> - -<li>Page 308<br /> -adressed a letter to the <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#addressed">addressed</a> a letter to the</li> - -<li>Page 337<br /> -communication to the Amercian Institute <i>changed to</i><br /> -communication to the <a href="#American">American</a> Institute</li> -</ul> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM IMMIGRANT TO INVENTOR ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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