^^7* cu»?y one*, SNNIYERSART IKI$$Hi DELIVERED BEFORE THE COLUMBIAN INSTITUTE 7th JANUARY, 1826. BIT TOBIAS WATEINS. ■■'''kiityzy TRMfTED BT DAVIS & FORCE, (FRANKLIN'S HEAD,) PENNSYLVANIA AYENUE. 1826. COLUMBIAN INSTITUTE, Washington, January 7, 1826. Resolved, That the thanks of the Institute be given to Dr. Watkins for the able and appropriate discourse deliv- ered by him this day, and that he be requested to furnish a copy for publication. ASBURY DICKINS, Secretary. DISCOURSE, &c. If it be true, that " Liberty is Power," how in- finitely must that power be augmented, when to Liberty is added Knowledge! The axiom of Bacon, that " Knowledge is pow- er," is often repeated, and universally admitted.— But it is one of those trite, abstract propositions, to which, unfortunately, mankind are too generally satisfied with yielding a bare assent, without at- tempting to deduce from them rules of conduct; and which, when unaccompanied by argument or illustration, die away upoii the ear, leaving no per- manent impression upon the min^> Could those, who are eve* most hostile to the cultivation of the intellect* and to all advancement in the arts and science be induced to reflect upon the meliorating change, which has been wrought in the character a*d condition of the human race, by the progress c/ knowledge, they would feel them- selves prompted by an irresistible impulse, to aban- don the perilous and gloomy paths of contented ig- norance, and seek for opportunities of exercising their mental faculties, in the wide and varied ave- nues of intellectual light and safety. It is by an 4 occasional reminiscence like this, that the philoso- pher and man of science, gathers fresh energy and vigour to pursue his labours—that he is cheered and animated in his solitary studies: and that he finds a solace in those moments of anxiety and de- spondence, to which genius is said to be so peculi- arly obnoxious, and in which so few know how to sympathize. It may almost be said, that knowledge makes man a God to man. When the Spaniards, to- wards the close of the 15th century, landed in this new world, the poor untutored natives looked upon them as beings of a superior order, and pros- trated themselves at the feet of the strangers, in awe and adoration. The meanest sailor in the fleet of ColunJous, was regarded by them with mingled feelings cf reverence and apprehension: their ships, their fire-arn^ and swords—the thousand unknown and miraculousinstruments and machines, by which they seemed to hve and move; and, above all, the inconceivable art o£ transmitting their thoughts to each other at a distance were considered by these neglected children of nature as incontestible proofs of an unearthly and divine origin. Spain, it is true, had, at the pe4od referred to, nearly attained to the full eminence of her power and grandeur. She was " the cynosure of neigh- bouring eyes"—the country to which all Europe looked for polish and refinement. But in what light do the philosophers and learned men of the present day, regard the Spaniards as they were, three cen- 5 turies ago? Certainly in no respect as Gods! Nay, it is scarcely exaggeration to say, that, great as was the difference then, between the rude savage and his civilized invader, the difference in the condition of the world, as it now is, and as it then was, is still greater. How many inventions and discover- ies have, since that time, been added to the stock of human knowledge! How many new sources have been opened of comforts and of happiness to man! What vast and admirable improvements have been made in every art and science ! How many, and curious, changes in the dress, manners, cus- toms, and modes of living, among the nations of Europe. Could a Spaniard of those days, even the most polished and refined, be permitted to revisit the earth, and appear among us in the dress and man- ner of his time, we should probably look upon him as little better than a barbarian ; while he himself would find, perhaps, as many causes of wonder and astonishment, in the changes and improvements which have taken place in our manners, modes of life, and means of advancing in knowledge, as the poor Indians found in Columbus and his fleet. But let us carry back our view to a period still more remote, and take a brief and rapid glance at the comparative condition of man in ancient and modern times. We shall find, it is true, in this ex- amination, that in some of the arts and sciences, the ancients attained to a degree of excellence, which no subsequent efforts of the human genius 6 have been able to surpass; and that in others, par- ticularly in some of the fine arts, thev went so far as to outstrip all modern competition. The speci- mens of ancient sculpture, for example, which the ravages of time have spared to us, are still regard- ed as master-pieces of the art. It was in Greece, that grave in w.hich every thing of ancient great- ness and glory lies buried, that this art reached im- passable perfection; it was there, under the plastic hand of genius, that " stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live." Who, that has once seen, can ever forget, the Dying Gladiator? " Supported on his shorten'd arm, he leans, Prone, agonizing ; with incumbent fate Heavy declines his head ; yet dark beneath The suffering feature, sullen vengeance low'rs, Shame, indignation, unaccomplished rage— And still the cheated eye expects his fall." Or the Group of Laocoon ? "The miserable sire Wrapt with his sons in Fate's severest grasp; The serpents, twisting round, their stringent fold's Inextricable tie. Such passion here, Such agonies, such bitterness of pain, Seem so to tremble thro' the tortur'd stone, That the touch'd heart engrosses all the view." How often has Canova, the Praxitiles of mo- dern times, in the fullness of his fame, and in his proudest day of gratified ambition, contemplated, with admiring and with envious eyes, these unrival- led efforts of ancient genius—these miracles of hu- man art! 7 In Rhetoric and Composition;—in Poetry, Histo- ry and Eloquence;—modern times may, perhaps, furnish parallels to the "blind old man"—to Ana- creon—Herodotus, or Demosthenes:—but we may modestly doubt whether even these models will ever be transcended.—Some of the useful arts, too, which were well known, and in common practice, among the ancients, have been irrecoverably lost to modern research. But, having paid this passing tribute to the genius of the Ancients, may we not be permitted to say, that the condition of man has been infinitely improv- ed, since the most effulgent day of Greece or of Rome ?—Let us for a moment throw the reins to Fancy.—Let us imagine, that the ashes of some of the illustrious dead of antiquity, have been reanimat- ed ; and that, in palpable and living forms, they are now roaming through the streets of London or of Paris, with a conductor able to explain to them the phenomena—for they would be phenomena—which at every turn meet their astonished gaze. Virgil,— Livy :—Cicero ! what indefinable emotions of wonder and delight would swell their eager bo- soms at the sight of their own works in print!— Archimedes; Euclid ;—Claudius Ptolemy!—how would their mighty spirits shrink abashed, when they found that even the schoolboy could give them a thousand new lights in their own sciences,—could correct in them a thousand errours, which they had received and cherished as immutable truths !—with what intense and straining curiosity would thev 8 pause to examine the various instruments and me- chanical inventions, which the mathematicians and philosophers of the present lime have been able to bring to their aid—orreries, quadrants, theodolites!— with what ineffable amazement would they ponder on the discoveries of a Galileo, or a Newton !—on the invention of Logarithms! analytical Geome- try!—those highest triumphs of modern, over ancient intellect.— And, let us summon up some of their renowned Captains :—Behold Epaminondas ; Annibal; Cae- sar ! present at the battle of Waterloo!—Their war- like and ambitious souls are thrown into a tumult of astonishment, mingled with envious repinings and regrets, at seeing their mightiest deeds eclipsed ;— the most dreadful scenes of slaughter, in which they were actors, outdone in horrour. How do they stand amazed, at seeing men, unprotected by defen- sive armour, calmly performing their evolutions amidst the tempest of war ;—the thick hail of bul- lets,—the rapid lightning of the bursting shells;— the ceaseless roar of the artillery's thunder.—And how is their amazement still more enflamed, when they behold the mover of all these horrours—the man of carnage and devastation—sitting aloof upon his fiery but managed steed, with all the calmness of an unconcerned spectator—cool, tranquil, impertur- bable. A word—a gesture—from him, conveys the flying havock from spot to spot of the contested field;—while he sits, stern and motionless, amid the swift, invisible, messengers of death, that people 9 the air around him. No helmet; no buckler ; no " goodly armour," protects his seemingly charmed life. His hand wields neither sword, nor spear; but it holds in anxious grasp, the Telescope—an instru- ment unknown to the shades whom we have called uj)—which he, from time to time, lifts to his ever watching eye.—And such is the precision,—the per- fection,—of modern tactics, that a single glance, occasionally thrown upon the scene before him, tells him the vaccillation of his fortune :—tells him, at length, that an Empire is lost—and won. The Greeks and Romans, it must be confessed, reached a degree of refinement and luxury in their modes of living, which we may not hope, and need not be ambitious, to excel. Their rich palaces :— their magnificent temples:—their beautifully em- bellished gardens:—displaying all that art, and taste, and wealth, could accomplish ;—offered at once in- citements and means of indulgence, in all the vices of ease, indolence, and luxurious enjoyment. But how many of the conveniences and comforts of life, of which the poorest individual of modern times would, perhaps, think himself miserable to be desti- tute, were to them totally unknown—or, being known, their uses unskilfully applied. The sci- ences of chemistry and mineralogy,—upon which the modern artificer has so largely drawn for aid in his various manufactures,—shed none of their con- venient lights upon the ancient workman. The va- rious metals, which in the hands of the modern me- chanick have assumed all forms, and the art of 2 10 working which has made the greatest improvement, and contributed most to increase the comforts and augment the power of man, were, in the eyes of the ancients, masses of useless matter exciting no inter- est in the discovery. The art of navigation, too :—how has it been ex- tended and improved, since the days of that cele- brated hero who led the argonautic expedition ! what wonderful changes have been made, as well in the construction, as in the management, of the Ocean house! The timid bark was then seen creep- ing slowly along the sinuosities and indentations of the sheltering coast—terrified at every gathering of the clouds; and seeking, with fearful caution, a nightly harbour. Now, the venturous and gallant ship, roams frompole to pole,—circumnavigates the great globe itself—braving the wrath of winds and billows, with such dauntless security, that sleep even «-------------upon the high and giddy mast Seals up the shipboy's eyes, and rocks his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge." Now a voyage of many thousand miles is per- formed with as much ease, and pleasure, and safe- ty—and with as little dread of danger—as an hour's excursion upon the unruffled bosom of our own Potomac. In maratime countries, Commerce and Navigation have a mutual influence and dependence upon each other:—they flourish or decay together. The most celebrated commercial people of antiquity, were also the most enterprising, and the most successful, 11 navigators. The Phenicians, more especially, rich- ly deserved the celebrity which they acquired, for their industry, their enterprise, and their skill in many of the arts and sciences. To their genius, we owe the invention of the Alphabet—that paramount of human discoveries—the grand source of all the mental wealth, the main spring of all the physical power, of man. Taking into consideration the rude and imperfect structure of the Phenician vessels—their entire ig- norance of the magnet, that quivering with seeming life and intelligence points us with ever constant truth to the North—they may justly be ranked among the most daring and adventurous navigators that the world has seen. Their devotion to com- merce, led them to explore the shores of the Medi- terranean:—they successively colonized Sicily, Sar- dinia, the South of France, Africa, and Spain:— and they were the first people to venture beyond the Pillars of Hercules, and trust themselves to the un- known world of waves. Who has not heard of Tyre—" her riches and her fairs, her merchandize, her mariners, and her pilots r" Of Sidon ? and of Carthage ?—those once celebrated marts of wealth and of splendour! The changes which have taken place, not only in the manner of conducting, but in the articles of trade, since those days, have been truly wonderful. Commerce was, at first, nothing more than the sim- ple barter of one commodity for another:—in the course of time, a clumsy coin was invented as the 12 representative of merchandize. Now whole car- goes are bought and sold, and millions of money are transferred from one individual to another, by means of a mere scrap of paper.—In former times, the mer- chant stood, like a shopkeeper, in the midst of his wares:—now he may amass the wealth of every clime, by trade, and never behold, from year to year, the commodities which he is daily buying and selling. Such have been the effects of an inven- tion, apparently so simple, that we can hardly re- frain from wondering that it should have been left to modern genius, and, perhaps, those who have not been careful to observe the tardy and hesitating march of human improvement, would find it diffi- cult to conceive that Paper credit and hills of Ex- change did not naturally result from the first efforts of commercial enterprise.— Many of the most important and most ordinary articles of the commerce of the present day, were wholly unknown to the ancients;—and yet millions of human beings now regard them, if not as abso- lutely essential to the sustenance, as at least indis- pensable to the comforts, of life. The condition, too, of those who occupy them- selves in trade, or in commercial pursuits, is now more respectable and dignified, than at any former period of the world.—It was the opinion of Aris- totle, that any profession by which money was gain- ed, was unworthy of a gentleman ; and he main- tained that, in a well ordered community, no man engaged in trade ought to enjoy the right of citizen- 13 ship. Plato went still further, and proposed, that a punishment should be inflicted upon every citizen who applied himself to commerce. But few cen- turies have elapsed, indeed, since those engaged in trade were, every where, excluded from societies that termed themselves respectable.—How altered is their condition now, when a body of merchants are the masters of that empire which even the son of Amnion could not conquer ! From this brief, and necessarily imperfect, com- parative sketch of the different states of the arts and sciences, in ancient and modern times, some idea may be formed of the vast improvements which have been effected, by the steady progress of human thought, and human industry. The fruits of that interdicted Tree, which stood in the midst of Para- dise, and whose taste was death, have now lost their bitterness, and have become a pleasant and health- ful aliment. The character and the condition of man, improve as he advances in knowledge. The comforts of life; moral worth ; all that constitutes human glory; are found to be most abundant in those countries, whose inhabitants are most assidu- ous in the cultivation of the arts and sciences: while, on the contrary, in those unblessed regions which are still darkened by the overshadowing gloom of ignorance, sloth, and superstition, man is but little exalted above the untamed beast of the wilderness. The progress of man towards his present state of high civilization and refinement, has been slow, and frequently interrupted. Nor has his march been 14 always progressive:—on the contrary, he has at times been forced to tread the mournful path of re- trogradation ; and at one unhappy period, he was suddenly hurled back into the same deep abyss of ignorance and misery, from which it had cost him so many years of toil and struggling to emerge.— It is difficult to conceive what would have been the condition of the human race at the present day, if that universal relapse into barbarism, dur- ing the Gothic ages, had never occurred. We know, that each movement made in advance, ren- ders more easy and more successful that which is to follow. In a country in which the arts and sciences flourish, and where no obstacles are op- posed to their general cultivation, every day gives birth to some useful invention or discovery. Wants, and the means of gratifying them, are continually reproducing each other, in rapid succession. Light is daily added to light—luxury to luxury. The mathematicians of one generation solve the prob- lems that perplexed their predecessors; and per- plex themselves with new ones, to be solved in like manner by those who come after them. The implements of the artizan become every day more numerous and complete, and his skill and dexterity in the use of them more perfect. We every day behold in the shops of the workmen, some new and curious article of manufacture, to tempt the ostenta- tion of the rich, or stimulate the industry of the poor. Are there, then, no limits to the march of human Improvement?—But why ask a question to which 15 infinite intelligence alone can respond! It is enough for us that we have not yet reached those limits; that much yet remains to be accomplished before we may fear to meet the divine interdict—" thus far thou mayest go, but no further." The secrets of the elements are not yet exhausted. The bow- els of the earth may still teem with unknown trea- sures : fire may hereafter be applied to purposes no less wonderful than that of making the billows conquer themselves; plants may now be trodden heedlessly under foot, which shall hereafter become important articles of commerce, and form new and copious sources of national wealth; man is now the prey of many fatal diseases, for which infallible specifics may yet be found ; undiscovered planets may now be tracing their silent and eternal course in the heavens, whose rays will ere long burst upon the gladdened sight, and reward the patient mid- night vigils, of the astronomer. An important inquiry here naturally suggests it- self. By what means can the advancement of the arts and sciences be accelerated ? One of the surest and most obvious means of promoting this advancement, is to kindle the de- sire, and encourage the pursuit, of knowledge, among the poorer classes of society, by facilitating to them the means of its acquisition. It is a fact not less singular than notorious, that many of the most celebrated philosophers, artists, and mechani- cians, that the world has produced, sprung from an humble origin ; and that their rise to usefulness and 16 fame, was obstructed and retarded by all the various difficulties, that poverty and the consequent neglect of early education could combine against them.— It may not be entirely without interest to mention a few, out of innumerable instances, in order to show what immense advantages might accrue to the cause of human improvement, if those, whose ardour in the cultivation of science, is unchilled by the benumbing influence of poverty and neglect, could be prevailed upon to extend the right hand of fellowship to the less fortunate labourers in the same noble work. Our own Franklin, whose fame is coextensive with the knowledge of Letters, was a journeyman printer: Fulton, to whose name no epithet could add distinction, was apprentice to a watch-maker: Harrison, who received from the British Parliament a reward for his improvement in the construction of chronometers, was a carpenter j and the celebrated Sir Richard Arkwright, to whom England is, perhaps, more indebted than to any of the great statesmen whom she has produced, for her present commercial prosperity, was originally a poor barber. If these illustrious men, with their limited means and in defiance of the obstacles by which they were impeded, were able to achieve so much, is it un- reasonable to presume that they would have achiev- ed still more, had they enjoyed, in the early part of their career, the advantages of a free and friend- ly intercourse with men of science ? It is to the communion of mind with mind—to the 17 frequent and familiar interchange of opinions and suggestions between men of genius, that we un- doubtedly owe most of the improvements which have been made in the arts and sciences in modern times. It rarely occurs that an invention is made perfect, or a discovery applied to purposes of utility, by its author. It often happens, on the contrary, that the most useful discovery is the result of acci- dent ;—or, that it is stumbled upon by some man of rude uncultivated genius, who is unaware of its importance, or of the extent to which its principles may be applied. There seems to be a necessity, therefore, that a spirit of the most perfect friend- ship and equality should subsist among fellow-Ja- bourers in the fields of science. The cause of hu- man improvement is one in which every class of men, and every individual of each class, are alike interested: we may naturally suppose, there- fore, that those who profess to devote themselves to this cause, are actuated by a sincere desire for its advancement, unmingled with any selfish mo- tive of acquiring an exclusive and personal fame. Among the votaries of polite literature, on the con- trary, and those who are engaged in the cultivation of the purely ornamental arts, jealousies and bick- erings will unavoidably arise; the harvest of their glory is circumscribed, and the flowers which are culled by one, diminish the stock from which others must weave their chaplets. But among the pioneers of useful science, the spirit of emulation. and not that of envy, should be the animating prin- .1 IB ciple of action: the stock from which they gather renown is inexhaustible; theirs is a common ob- ject—that of expanding and enlarging the opera- tions of the intellectual faculties—of opening new sources of human enjoyment, and giving activity, extent, and vigour, to the springs of human feli- city. The sciences lend to each other mutual assis- tance and support: but it is not possible that the most active and comprehensive intellect can travel through the whole range of them, and make a progress alike profitable in all. The attainments of a single individual, whatever may be his genius or his industry, must always appear trifling and insignificant, when compared with the constantly increasing sum of human knowledge. Perfection in one branch of science, seems only to be acquir- ed at the expense of ignorance, or, at best, of su- perficial knowledge, in the rest. One or two phe*- nomena of human genius, it is true, have appear- ed in the world, who seemed to grasp all branches of knowledge with the power of omniscience ; but the fact that they are regarded as phenomena, suf- ficiently proves the truth of the general rule. It is true, that a vast disparity exists in the intellectu- al powers of men. There have been minds whose brilliance has served, as a pillar of fire, to guide the wanderings of several successive generations of men: but still, omniscience and infallibility are not the attributes of mortals; the wisest will err__ the most skilful will blunder; and their errors and 19 blunders may, perhaps, be corrected by those who are neither wise nor skilful. Flaws have been de- tected even in the philosophy of Newton. It would seem to be a law of their nature, then, that, in order to the successful culture of the arts and sciences, men should join together in their labours and investigations. The rapid strides which have been made in modern times, and particularly within the last two centuries, may no doubt be chiefly attributed to the institution of societies and associations among the learned. The origin of these establishments would, perhaps, be traced by those who are fond of gathering Olympic dust, to the Academies, Gardens, and Porticos, of the an- cients ; but it seems to be more reasonable to be- lieve, that they took their rise in the friendly in- tercourse and casual assembly of men of science around their own firesides. The ancient Acade- mies were confined, chiefly, if not exclusively, to the cultivation of metaphysics and moral philoso- phy, both of which were carried to the most ex- travagant heights; and the members of them were accustomed to yield implicit assent to the dogmas of the individual selected as their guide and pre- ceptor. It was enough that the master said it, to give to any absurdity the currency of truth.— But the Societies and Academies of the moderns, embrace a range of knowledge too vast, and too important to the welfare of man, to permit any individual to arrogate to himself the authority of a dictator. The science of metaphysics seldom 20 engages much of the attention of modern schools; and the science of ethics, changed as it is in its very basis, no longer admits of being safely or pro- perly mingled with the exclusively temporal mat- ters which belong to the discussions of philo- sophy. Associations for the advancement of useful and practical knowledge may, therefore, properly be said to be entirely of modern date. They have been among the consequences of the invention of the art of printing, and of that extent and freedom of investigation in matters of science* to which political liberty gave rise. The numerous advantages to be derived from such societies, are too obvious to need illustration. Modern Europe abounds with them; and by means of the correspondence, which they carry on with each other, all the nations of that enlightened quarter of the globe, whatever may be, in other respects, the difference of their situations, are plac- ed upon an equality with regard to the interests of science. Those which have acquired most cele- brity, and which have been most instrumental in promoting the growth of knowledge, and diffusing the benefits of science, are the French " National Institute," and the British "Royal Society." The most illustrious and distinguished individuals, in both empires, have thought it their greatest glory to be enrolled among the members, and their high- est privilege to be permitted to join in the labours. of these societies*. 21 Several attempts have been made to form institu- tions of a similar nature in our own country. But, if they have not altogether failed, it is certain they have not attained to that degree of reputation and extended usefulness, which their founders contem- plated, and of which their nature is susceptible.— The causes of this will be made apparent by a lit- tle reflection. No single member of our great confederacy can furnish a sufficient number of men of science for the support of such societies; and that spirit of emulation which naturally prevails among the states—a spirit which is, unfortunately, seldom entirely free from the debasing alloy of envy—will not permit the citizens of one state to contribute gratuitously to increase the fame and grandeur of another.—At some future period, when the population of the country shall be suffi- ciently augmented, and science shall become more generally diffused, the same cause—a rivalry be- tween the diflerent members of the Union,—will, probably, operate to produce a contrary effect. But, for the present,—if we desire that our coun- try should possess a scientifick institution that may vie in usefulness with those that have become cel- ebrated in the old world,—it is of vital importance that we should direct our care and attention to a single one, and bestow upon that one, our exclusive and indefatigable exertions. It is to the suggestion, and to the personal exer- tions, of an amiable and enlightened individual of this City—whose philanthropy and patriotism are 22 perpetually on the watch for opportunities to pro- mote the happiness of his fellow men, and to ad- vance the glory and prosperity of his adopted coun- try—whose hand and heart are alike open to all the charities of life—and whose active benevolence knows neither sect nor kindred; that we are in- debted for the institution of a society here, which, however humble may be its present claims to pub- lick notice and patronage, is destined, it may be hoped, at no distant day, to realize the proudest an- ticipations, the most expanded views, of its found- ers, and friends.— The prospects of the " Columbian Institute" are peculiarly favourable. Its location—in the Me- tropolis of the country, under the eyes of the Re- presentatives of the people, and upon a soil to which each State in the union has an equal right— forbids all apprehension that its advancement will be retarded by the influence of sectional jealousies and rivalries. Men of science and learning may here meet as it were upon neutral ground. The great importance and general interest of the objects for which the Institute was created, the high politi- cal rank of its presiding officer—whose presence here checks the eulogy which rises to my lips—and the opportunities, which the Representatives of the people have, of taking part in its labours; not merely as honorary, but as present and efficient, members—all combine to exhibit its character in a point of view entirely national. A society of jhis nature, established under circumstances so propiti- 23 ous and so encouraging, may one day prove to be among the strongest bonds of union between the states.—Among politicians of different creeds, hostile feelings and bitter contentions will often arise ; but a different spirit—one of friendship and harmony—will be excited and cherished among the votaries of science. If those, therefore, who are deputed by the people of the respective states, to watch with jealous eyes over their interests, in the general councils of the nation, could be induced to follow the illustrious example which has been held out to them, and unite with the members of the Institute, in the accomplishment of the task which they have undertaken—the animosities which are so apt to be engendered by political debate, would give place to the desire of rendering their common country as pre-eminent in the arts and sci- ences, as she already is in Liberty and the power that Liberty gives. When the " Columbian Institute" shall become known to the people of the union, its situation must give it innumerable advantages over every other society of the kind. Men of learning and genius; in every profession and occupation, and in every part of our country, from the Lakes to the shores of the Atlantic, will have an opportunity, through the medium of their Representatives in Congress, of transmitting to it the results of their labours and investigations. It may thus become a sort of na- tional reservoir for improvements in the arts and sciences Industrious and enterprising agricultural 24 ists, whether in Maine or in Florida, in Maryland or Missouri, may thus, at no expense, reap the many advantages to be derived from a knowledge of each others experiments, upon the various soils, and under the various climates, of our extended territory. The Geologist, the Mineralogist, the Chemist, the Physician, the lover of Botany and of Natural History, may each deposite among its ar- chives, or upon its shelves, the fruits of his re- searches into the mysteries of Nature. Other advantages will be enjoyed by the society, in its near vicinity to the Library of Congress, and to the Patent Office. The former, if not at pre- sent the most complete and extensive publick col- lection in the union, is in a fair way to become so, by means of the annual appropiation made by Con- gress for its increase. It already contains a great number of valuable and costly scientifick works, which are seldom within the reach of individuals or of infant societies, and the want of which is often seriously felt in the course of their investiga- tions.—An occasional examination of the numer- ous and interesting productions of American geni- us, which are to be found in the Patent Office, will afford to the members of the Institute an exact knowledge of the progress which has been made in this country in the science of Mechanics ; per- haps suggest new inventions ; and enable them to judge of the originality and utility of those which may come under their notice.—The ground which, by the munificence of Congress, has been placed 25 under the control of the Institute, for the purpose of establishing a Botanical Garden, will in the course of a short time form not only a pleasing or- nament to the Metropolis, but a source of delight- ful recreation to the votaries of that interesting sci- ence.—The exhibition of specimens of American manufactures, which it is proposed to make, at sta- ted periods, at the seat of Government, and, as we have reason to believe, under the direction of the Institute, would enable us, from time to time, to publish an exposition of the improvements, which our fellow citizens are constantly making in the useful arts, and thus afford to the; publick an agree- able and convincing proof of the benefits which may result to the nation from our labours.—Should the suggestion for the establishment of a National Observatory, at the seat of Government, receive the approbation of Congress, the Institute might have an opportunity of giving another proof of its usefulness, and of its entire devotion to the nation- al service. Both the Government and the people of this country, seem to be now more disposed, as they are certainly more able, than at any former period, to encourage the progress of the arts and sciences. " The spirit of improvement is abroad upon the earth;" and the scholar and statesman who now fills the Executive chair—has given us assurance, in his first official communication to Congress, that his prompt and cheerful cooperation will be given to any measures which the Representatives of the 4 26 people may, in their wisdom, devise to foster and promote that spirit. A great and inestimable advantage which we possess over the philosophers of the old world, is in the character of the government under which we live. & land of freedom is the soil most con- genial to the growth of knowledge. Under an ar- bitrary government, the arts and sciences may, in- deed, be cultivated by stealth, and made to vegi- tate like the sickly exotics of a green-house. Or the despot, cunning in contrivances to increase his fame and consolidate his power, may, perhaps, affect to foster and protect them, in order to se- cure the good will of the wise and learned. But it is in those regions only where the human mind is unfettered by the degrading influence of bigotry and superstition, and untrammelled by the restraints of political vassalage—where the Eagleeye of in- dependence " drops its lid to none of woman born," that they can attain to their full and natural growth. It is our happiness to live in such a land. Here we may pursue our researches, unmolested by the jealous interference of a tyrant, whose jaundiced eye sees a conspiracy in every associa- tion of his subjects. Here is no Hierarch to dic- tate laws to the planets. Here are no censors to prescribe to us modes of thinking; no fears of tor- ture, exile, or imprisonment, to drive us from our course. Every incentive that can actuate noble minds, is thus held out to the members of the Institute, to 27 persevere with unwearied ardour in the accom- plishment of the objects, for which they have as- sociated themselves together. Surrounded by the most distinguished men of our own country, and by the ministers and representatives of foreign na- tions, our exertions will be stimulated, not only by the holy spirit of patriotism, but by personal pride. If we succeed, a rich and glorious reward awaits us, in the esteem and approbation of our fellow-citizens: and, as the war-worn fathers of our country's freedom, now feel their bosoms thrill, with a pure and hallowed delight, as they behold their children enjoying, in peace and safety, the blessings which were purchased by their blood; so may we, though the paths we tread are less peril- ous, and the fame to which we aspire, less bril- liant, one day have cause to exult in the reflection, that we were among the founders of the Colum- bian Institute. > i I