tion. In this and numerous other cases, Baird's success was due not to any form of cunning, but rather to his straightforward simplicity and manifestly unselfish devotion to his work.
In Baird's first report as assistant secretary, published in 1851, he called attention at some length to the important work needing to be done in zoology, botany and geology. It was the declared policy of the Smithsonian, at that time, not to attempt to cover the whole field of science, but to attend to those subjects which had been neglected by others. Very well, said Baird: accepting fully this plan, we must point out that we lack information on—and he proceeded to specify in detail the very numerous investigations crying out for workers, and the splendid opportunities that lay before those who should take them up.
He was by no means content to work solely through official channels. In every possible way he stirred up the enthusiasm of collectors, aided those who desired to study and persuaded travelers to secure material for the museum. When going through his letters of the year 1859, I found evidence of his wonderful perseverance which is worth citing. In March of that year he wished to send the well-known naturalist and traveler, Robert Kennicott, to the region of the Hudson Bay for specimens. The Smithsonian had absolutely no funds for such a purpose, and with any ordinary official that would have settled the matter. Not so with Baird; starting a subscription list with fifty dollars out of his own pocket, he wrote to most of the prominent naturalists of that day, asking them to subscribe what they could and receive a corresponding part of the collections. The response was prompt and satisfactory, and about $500, the amount asked by Baird, was raised. I have before me a copy of the list of subscribers containing such well-known names as those of Cassin, Brevoort, Lawrence, Ostensacken, Cresson and Lea. The Smithsonian itself did finally put in $50, in addition to the sum personally subscribed by Baird on its behalf.
About the same time Baird wished to send John Xantus, a Hungarian resident in America, and a skilled naturalist, to the little-known peninsula of Lower California. It was evidently impracticable to raise two five-hundred dollar subscriptions; but Xantus must go. It was ascertained that the U. S. Coast Survey wished to send a man to that region to examine the tides; why not Xantus? So it was readily arranged, and off he went, furnished with all facilities for collecting specimens.
Thus, without any visible resource to begin with, two important expeditions were despatched. Those who know something of the zoology of America do not need to be reminded of the great results accomplished in each case. It is hardly possible to open a work on any large
