pear to me to offer more than very finite possibilities. Discovery can not always go on with its present rapidity. We live in the golden age of research. We are surrounded on every side by discoveries so easy that they seem to beg for our attention. But as each one is made and its result added to the known, the unknown is equally diminished. It diminishes daily, and the store of easy discoveries lessens so fast that the time is not very distant when investigators of moderate abilities will no longer enjoy such opportunities as they have now. If we consider the whole of science, we have a sense of boundlessness; but each part has its end, and its end is not far away. It will not be long before nearly everything easily known will be known. It would be presumptuous to assume that, even when the whole knowable has become known, there will not still be problems which the human intellect can apprehend but not solve. As to-day, so hereafter, the naturalist's final thought must be reverent submission.
III. The Influence of the Naturalist on Mankind.—The influence and utility of natural science need neither defense nor explanation to a generation which has witnessed the establishment of the theory of natural selection and of the germ theory of disease; nor need we argue for the pre-eminence of original research, but there are certain principles for which we stand individually and collectively. I think that it will be profitable to review and to formulate some of these.
We stand for the value of good intellectual work and for the recognition of the value of proper training. We do not admit that scientific work requires a peculiar mind, but only the cultivation of those fundamental faculties of observation and induction which every one should possess and use. On the other hand, we claim that in addition to the development and disciplining of these faculties the naturalist must have his special professional training, and that without it he is not qualified for his professional work. In upholding this standard we not only serve the cause of science, but we serve the whole country. It is safe to say that the greatest evil in the social life of the United States is the habitual disregard of competency—a disregard which prevails not only with the people at large, but also among the most highly educated men. Democracy is the belief that every man is the equal of his betters. Americans are loath to admit that training and experience make experts, and that experts are better than others for their special work. The spoils system of the office-seekers is based upon the assumption that training and experience do not render a man more competent. When a water board is established to plan a water supply, we do not appoint chemists, engineers, and sanitarians, but grocers, novelists, and ward politicians. It is a rare exception if among the trustees of
