OUR DUTY TO THE FUTURE 593
modern times, the natural query is, '^In what way or ways may we preserve the present for the future?*' Most of our historical, scien- tific, religious, social, political and other kinds of documents are com- posed of flimsy and combustible materials, on which it is easy to almost completely and permanently obliterate or efface the written or printed record. The bulk of our modern paper is less permanent than that made two and three hundred years ago, or even the pap3rrus of the ancients. Tet we entrust our most precious records to the surface of a substance that can not be expected to endure two thousand years under the most favorable conditions. Photographs might be better preserved in the form of the original glass plate, or a non-combustible film, or best of all, as a half-tone or similar metallic engraving. The photographic prints or the print from an engraving is certainly as perishable as the paper on which it is made. History, art, literature, science, and written knowledge as a whole, may be transmitted to pos- terity in the form of copies, if necessary, using the proper measures to ensure authenticity as well as safety in preserving and protecting such copies until they are to be recopied or rewritten. But what of the originals of many historic documents, photographs, and the like? Will not these relics be of greater interest and value if they, and not mere copies, are preserved for the future? Copies of certain things, par- ticularly works of art, are not always desirable, nor can these things always be copied to the best advantage. We 'may admire and cherish beautiful and costly mural paintings and other decorations, but can we be certain that the buildings containing them will escape complete de- struction? The beautiful Library of Congress could be hopelessly ruined by a few well-directed bombs from a fieet of hostile airships, if not by the shells from some long range naval gun. Could its art treasures, not to speak of other kinds, be successfully restored? What would happen to the National Museum, and the museums, libraries, and art galleries of our coast cities in case of war and sudden attack? Have we any adequate or efficient means of preserving the products of man's genius and inventive skill? What machines could withstand the destructive agents cited? Do these questions concern us, or do they not?
Several years ago Mr. Percival Lowell wrote as follows:*
One reflection well worth onr thought the pTramids suggest: the enduring character of the past beside the ephemeralness of our day. We build for the moment; they built monumentally. True we have printing which they had not. But libraries are not lasting. Fire, accidental or purposive, has destroyed the greater part of the learning of the far past and promises to do so with what we write now; and what escapes the fire mold may claim. Only that idea which is materially most effectively clothed can withstand for long the gnawing disin-
iPofmkir Science Monthly, Vol. 80, p. 460 (1912).
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