Y ALEC AlN
ignorance of everything beyond the
sacred pale. And what is more, it
hindered any knowledge of the true
nature of those things which were al-
lowed a place within the sacred pale.
It led to a cutting off of so-called ‘clas-
sical’ studies from all ordinary human
pursuits and human interests.”
A REPROACH HERE.
To a very considerable extent this
reproach, if it is a reproach, is likewise
American. The opportunities, the
honors, the pleasures and the rewards
of a liberal education were opened dur-
ing the first half of this century to those
only who had been disciplined in the
ancient languages, and this discipline
was continued.through the greater part
of the subsequent non-elective curri-
culum. To verify this remark it is only
necessary to examine the catalogues of
the leading colleges of this country
during the first five decades of this cen-
tury or to read the defense of classical
studies annually printed by Yale Col-
lege for twenty-five years prior to 1854.
Spasmodic efforts were made for the
foundation of new courses, but virtually
West Point and Troy were the only
established places in this country for
good technical instruction so late as
1847. Whitney was so conscious that
the men of letters, in the group to
which he belonged, depreciated the
aims and objects of scientific education
that he wrote a pamphlet which
silenced, if it did not remove, the preju-
dices of all who read it. Its repe-
rusal at this time is invigorating.
LIEBIGS WORK.
But for twenty years previous to 1847
a force had been at work in a little
country town of Germany destined to
affect the education of Christendom;
and at the same time to enlarge the
boundaries of human knowledge, first
in chemistry and the allied branches,
then in every other one of the natural
sciences. The place was Giessen; the
inventor, Liebig; the method, a labora-
tory for instruction and research. Dr.
Welch has lately reviewed, in an address
at Philadelphia, the results which pro-
ceeded from this innovation of a genius.
Another event contributed to the ex-
pansion of education. About the mid-
dle of the century the first World’s
Fair, held in London, had_ revealed to
English-speaking people the increasing
supremacy of continental nations in
those branches of industry which de-
pend upon the application of science.
The British were alarmed. The papers
of the day, and especially the London
Times, were vigorous in calling for im-
proved methods of public instruction,
and especially for the better guidance
of chemists, miners, engineers, geol-
ogists and manufacturers, for all who
aspired to be leaders in the technical
pursuits upon which the prosperity of
the” British Empire depended. Hence
in close connection, though not in this
order, came the department of science
and art and the museums at South
Kensington, the great provincial col-
leges of science, the Cavendish labora-
tory at Cambridge, the new museum at
Oxford, and other noteworthy ad-
vances. From that day to this scienti-
fic education in England has been mak-
ing progress, although Germany and
France and other continental states still
hold their ascendency; for now, as then,
the laboratories of those countries and
the abundant encouragement given to
scientific research by their govern-
ments excite the admiration of our
mother country and ourselves.
Is it not apparent that in the middle
of this century responsibility for the
advancement and diffusion of knowl-
edge was wider and deeper than ever
before? Imbued by this spirit of the
times, Smithson made his famous be-
quest, soon to be followed by similar
and greater gifts from others, a splen-
did line of endowments, which has
spread with advancing civilization from
Massachusetts Bay to the land of the
Golden Gate.
GEOGRAPHICAL STUDIES.
Geographical discoveries, previously
confined to islands and coasts, or to
narrow lines in desert or barbarous
countries, now began to assume con-
tinental magnitude. Earth, air and sea,
and even celestial space, were called
upon to reveal their secrets. The im-
portance of accurate measurements hav-
ing now been completely established,
instruments of precision became more
perfect, complex and varied, produced
by a noble army of inventors who
never dishonored the drafts which were
made by science on the bank of
mechanical ingenuity. Mathematics
formed a close alliance with construc-
tion and invention. Astronomy, phy-
sics, mechanics and engineering re-
newed their strength. National history
went beyond the limitations of system.
Publications were multiplied: new asso-
ciations were formed, national and in-
national. Specialization took the
leadership and before Humboldt died,
the era of general scholarship was past,
the new era was fairly under way.
In all this progress the dominant
note has been the advancement of
science and not the accumulation of
wealth; truth and not personal gain.
Why did Darwin and Dana engage in
intellectual toil in the intervals of phy-
sical disability? Why did Faraday
abandon “commercial work’ at the
moment when it promised great re-
turns? Why had Agassiz “no time
for money making’? .Certainly not be-
cause they despised the ease of life, but
because personal gain was nothing
compared with the study of nature and
the advancement of knowledge. Wis-
dom was more than gold. Neverthe-
less it is greatly to their credit that an
unselfish desire to enlarge the welfare
of mankind has been a powerful stimu-
lus to the ablest men. If I name the
discoveries of anesthetics and antisep-
tics, with the subordinate yet very sig-
nificant evolution of cocaine, the appli-
cations of electricity, the improve-
ments in hydrography and in naviga-
tion, and the growth of preventive
medicine and the science of hygiene,
and the alleviations of surgery, you
will be reminded that science repays
with ample usury the advances made to
her account. - 2
In this splendid epoch of intellectual
progress, brilliant and memorable as
the revival of letters, the early days of
the Sheffield School were passed. An
alchemist looking on might have asked
what philosopher’s stone could produce
that amount of the precious metals
which would be indispensable for the
success of a school devoted to such
aims; but his brother, the astrologer,
casting the horoscope, would have re-
plied that resolution can do more than
‘gold, and enthusiasm than much fine
silver.
THIS CELEBRATION’S SIGNIFICANCE.
Thus we reach the conclusion that
this celebration is significant because
among the institutions created during
the last half-century for the promotion
of scientific research and education, the
Sheffield Scientific School of Yale Col--
lege has held an honorable place. It
is this relation to the progress of
human development that gives import-
ance to the day of small things and
dignity to transactions, which by them-
selves might be insignificant were they
not governed by enlightened views so
presented, advocated and maintained
that their influence has been powerful.
THE SCIENTIFIC: NESTOR OF YALE.
As I proceed to speak of the organi-
zation of this school I shall not attempt
to distribute the laurels among those
who took the leading parts, but one of
them, Benjamin Silliman, long the
scientific Nestor of this community,
dear “Uncle Ben,’ revered and hon-
ored, is entitled to our, first grateful
mention, not only because of his power
of interesting the public, and his per-
severance in maintaining the American
Journal of Science, but for his personal
instruction, during many years, of un-
enrolled young men who enjoyed the
limited opportunities of his primitive
laboratory and the benefits of a great,
then unrivaled, collection of minerals.
Silliman had prepared the way for the
School of Applied Chemistry, and
Woolsey becoming President of the
college, fresh from studies abroad,
caused the scheme to be so broadened
that it became the Department of
Philosophy and the Arts, akin in scope
and spirit, though not equal in. re-
sources to the great foundations of Eu-
rope, like Bonn, Géttingen and_ Berlin,
with which he was familiar. It must
have been a great satisfaction to the
revered ex-president, nearly thirty years
afterwards, to utter, on a public oc-
casion, these words, doubly valued by
his hearers, because they came from
one who knew the circumstances and
NAC Poe rs xX
from one who was always guarded in
the bestowal of praise. “From the
first,’ he said, “the professors have
struggled against probabilities. They
have worked by faith. They have
aimed to have a school, sink or swim,
worthy of the science of this country.
Asa result, I think there is, confessedly,
no other school of this character, in
this country, which is on a level with
this. I would give equal honor to the
devotion of the professors and to the
munificence of the giver.’
BEGINNING OF GRADUATE STUDIES.
Here let me remind you of a fact not
generally known though clearly re-
corded. As far back as 1814 resident
graduates were enrolled as a distinct
class on the Yale catalogue, and in 1819
and 1820 the members so enrolled were
thirty and thirty-one. This shows that
the beginning of graduate studies in
this University antedates by more than
thirty years the Department of Philoso-
phy and the Arts.
“UNIVERSITY PROFESSORS.”
In 1846, two young men, devoted to
applied science and ready for careers,
were made by Yale “university profes-
sors.” It is a striking coincidence, that
Harvard and Yale, generous and
friendly aspirants for the leadership,
caught the laboratory quickstep at al-
most the same time. The gift of Ab-
bott Lawrence, made in 1847, led at once
to the appointment of the great Agassiz
and almost immediately to the opening
of a chemical laboratory, organized by
Professor Horsford, a pupil of Liebig.
One of the young professors at New
Haven having an inherent love of agri-
culture, and an excellent preparation
in Edinburgh and Utrecht, was qual-
ified to direct a chemical laboratory
and to give instruction in the sciences
pertaining to argiculture. Professor
John P. Norton was fully possessed by
the spirit of modern science and soon
gathered around him a company of
young chemists, some of whom were
destined to win the highest distinctions,
three of them still students, colleagues
and teachers, now present with us,
strong in attainments, influence and
character, stronger still in the affection
of their pupils.
The second of the original appoint-
ments was that of Benjamin Silliman,
Jr., a man of enthusiasm and energy,
and of boundless hospitality, intellec-
tual and social, whose name and ad-
dress, quick sympathies and interest in
applied science gave promise of great
usefulness. The labors of both these
men were soon interrupted. One was
diverted to other fields of activity in
Louisville and New York; the other.
died at the threshold of his fame. I
have often thought what a difference it
would have made if the school had
then been endowed. Norton, trying
to do double work at Albany and New
Haven, fell a victim to the exposures
of Winter and travel; and Silliman was
led to seek remurrerative occupations
elsewhere. Those were the days of
which Lounsbury thus speaks: “The
college had no money to give, but even
if it had it is more than doubtful if it
would have given it. No one at
that time, however enthusiastic, ever
dreamed of the supreme importance
which the natural sciences were soon to
assume in every well devised system of
education. The impression prevailed
that chemistry, like virtue, must be its
own reward.”
A FOUNDLINGS YOUTH.
The youth of this school was spent
like a foundling’s, its future was preca-
rious. At length, new forces came to
its support. Certain obstacles, else-
where encountered, made it easy for
Professor William A. Norton to bring
to Yale his classes in civil engineering,
and he was followed by his colleague,
Professor John A. Porter, then devoted
to chemistry. These appointments
were invigorating. Norton was an ad-
mirable teacher, well trained at West
Point, painstaking, accurate, thorough,
well acquainted with the progress of
his favorite science and always com-
manding students of ability. Porter,
who had been a pupil of Liebig, was a
man of letters as well as of science, a
poet, philosopher and patriot, thor-
oughly believing in the New Education,
as President Eliot named it, and ready
to enlarge by the various influences at
his command the scope of the Scienti-
fic School, of which he became for
several years the able and eloquent ex-
ponent.
Rapid growth followed, due chiefly
to one man whose name, before all
others, is on our lips as the founder of
this school, -Joseph E. Sheffield. It is
needless to recount the steps from a
gift of five thousand dollars to the
amount of a million, with which we are
familiar. Naturally, the school looked
up to him as a father, and asked per-
mission to bear his name. He con-
sented with reluctance, but he never
forgot the child once adopted, and in
the final distribution of his estate, made
it equal with his sons and daughters.
The year of christening was 1860, or
the child’s third year.
OF MR. SHEFFIELD.
Mr. Sheffield was a man whom future
generations, like the present, may de-
light to acknowledge and honor as a
founder. Nothing will ever be re-
vealed about him that his school will
wish to cover. On the contrary if
those who knew him best would utter
what they know, the world would ad-
mire even more than it does now the
sagacity, the modesty, the considera-
tion and the unselfishness of our great
benefactor. His liberality grew with
the growth of the school. It was
shown in little things and in great; in
the payment of current bills, in the pro-
vision of large funds. “I get my re-
ward every day as I look out upon that
workshop,’ was the answer that he
made to an expression of gratitude.
“No investment pays me so well,” was
another of his remarks. “I wish you
to bear in mind,” he once said to Pro-
fessor Brush, “that you have never
asked me for a dollar.” Yet with all
this growing interest, and with his
readiness to listen to all the inside
history of the school, he never to the
slightest degree interfered with its af-
fairs. He trusted the governing board.
He knew more intimately than any
member of the Corporation, the plans,
the wants, the success and the limita-
tions of the school, and to the utmost
of his ability he contributed to its
maintenance. An intimacy for more
than thirty years between the chief exe-
cutive of the school and its nearest
friend was never clouded by a mo-
ment’s disagreement. His only regrets
were the limitations of his resources.
To all these engaging traits must be
added the remembrance of his strong
intellect, his comprehensive charity, his
integrity, gentleness and faith. Happy
the school that can bestow love as well
as gratitude upon the memory of its
- chief benefactor.
OTHER BENEFACTORS.
Such example was contagious. No
one was surprised when neighbors,
townsmen and friends at a distance,
one after another, in many successive
years, enlarged the endowment. Far-
nam, the life-long colleague of Shef-
field; Norton, the father of the agricul-
turist; Wheeler, an enthusiastic grad-
ate; English, senator and governor,
promoter of studies in law, history and
science; Phelps, whose gateway adorns
the campus; Winchester, founder of the
Astronomical Observatory, who, like
“the embattled farmers’ at Concord,
has “fired a shot heard around the
world,” and whose widow has given
to the school one of its most import-
ant halls; Collier, who perpetuated, by
a fund, the memory of his departed
brother; and a lady of Liverpool, Mrs.
Higgin, who established a _professor-
ship; besides Fellowes, Boardman,
Sampson, Dodge, and many more. By
their encouragement the school was
doubly strengthened, for during the
lifetime of its chief benefactor every
such gift brought another from him.
Since his day, the munificence of Mrs.
Winchester and the bequest of Mr.
Fayerweather are indications that new
friends have arisen to strengthen these
foundations.
RELATIONS TO THE STATE.
The relations of the school to the
State began after the Federal Govern-
ment, by the Morrill Act of 1863, dis-
tributed among all the states a certain
amount of land-scrip for the promotion
of scientific education. Connecticut
gave the income of its portion to the
