I could urge this on the self-interest of the nation as an obvious dictate of political economy. I could say, and say truly, that the culture of science will help us to develop those latent resources of which we are so proud; will enable us to grow two blades of grass where one grew before; to extract a larger percentage of metal from our ores; to economize our coal, and in general to direct our waiting energies so that they may produce a more abundant pecuniary reward. I could tell of Galvani studying for twenty long years, to no apparent purpose, the twitching of frogs' hind-legs, and thus sowing the seed from which has sprung the greatest invention of modern times. Or, if our Yankee impatience would be unwilling to wait half a century for the fruit to ripen, I could point to the purely theoretical investigations of organic chemistry, which in less than five years have revolutionized one of the great industries of Europe, and liberated thousands of acres for a more beneficent agriculture. This is all true, and may be urged properly if higher considerations will not prevail. It is an argument I have used in other places, but I will not use it here; although I gladly acknowledge the Providence which brings at last even material fruits to reward conscientious labor for the advancement of knowledge and the intellectual elevation of mankind. I would rather point to that far greater multitude who worked in faith for the love of knowledge, and who ennobled themselves and ennobled their nation, not because they added to its material prosperity, but because they made themselves and made their fellows more noble men.

I come back now again to the moral of all this, to urge upon you, as the noblest patriotism and the most enlightened self-interest, the duty of striving for yourselves and encouraging in others the highest culture in the studies you have chosen, and this culture with one end in view, to advance knowledge. I am far, of course, from advising you to grapple immaturely with unsolved problems, or, when you have gained the knowledge with which you can dare to venture from the beaten track, to undertake work beyond your power. Many a young scientific man has suffered the fate of Icarus in attempting to soar too high. Moreover, I am far from expecting that all or many of you will ever have the opportunity of going beyond the well-explored fields of knowledge; but you can all have the aim, and that aim will make your work more worthy and more profitable to yourselves. Every American boy can not be President of the United States, but if, as our English cousins allege, he believes that he can be, the very belief makes him an abler man.

We have dwelt long enough on these generalities, and it is time to come down to commonplaces, and to inquire what are the essential conditions of this scientific culture which shall fit us to investigate Nature; and the first thought that occurs to me in this connection may be expressed thus: Science presents to us two aspects, which I may call its objective and its subjective aspect. Objectively it is a body of facts, which we have to observe, and subjectively it is a body of truths, conclusions, or inferences, deduced from these facts; and the two sides of the subject should always be kept in view.

I propose next to say a few words in regard to each of these two aspects of our study, and in regard to the best means of training our faculties so as to work successfully in each sphere. First, then, success in the observation of phenomena implies three qualities at least, namely, quickness and sharpness of perception, accuracy in details, and truthfulness; and on its power to cultivate these qualities a large part of the value of science, as a means of education, depends.

To begin with the cultivation of our perceptions. We are all gifted with senses, but how few of us use them to the best advantage! "We have eyes and see not"; for, although the light paints the picture on the retina, our dull perceptions give no attention to the details, and we retain only a confused impression of what has passed before our eyes. "But how," you may ask, "are we to cultivate this sharpness of perception?" I answer, only by making a conscious effort to fix our attention on the objects we study until the habit becomes a second nature. I have often noticed, with surprise, the power which uneducated miners frequently possess of recognizing many minerals at sight. This they have acquired by long experience and close familiarity with such objects, and such power of observation is with them so purely a habit that they are frequently unable to state clearly the grounds on which their conclusions are based. They recognize the minerals by what in common language is called their "looks" and they notice delicate differences in the "looks" to which most men are blind. It is, however, the business of the scientific mineralogist to analyze these "looks," and to point out in what the differences consist; so that by fixing his attention on these points the student may gain, by a few hours' study, the power which the miner acquires only after long experience.

The chief difficulty, however, which we find in teaching mineralogy is, that the students do not readily see the differences when they are pointed out, or, if they see them, do not remember them with sufficient precision to render their subsequent observations conclusive and precise. This either arises from a failure to cultivate the powers of observation in childhood, or the subsequent blunting of them by disuse. The ladies will scout the idea that a brooch of cut-glass is as ornamental as one of diamond, and yet I venture to assert that there is not one person in fifty, at least of those who have not made a study of the subject, who can tell the difference between the two. The external appearance depends simply on what we call lustre. The lustre of glass is vitreous, that of the diamond adamantine; and I know of no other distinction which it is more difficult for students to recognize than this. Those of you who study mineralogy will experience this difficulty, and it can be overcome only by giving careful attention to the subject. The teacher can do nothing more than put in your hands the specimens which illustrate the point, and you must study these specimens until you see the difference. It is a question of sight, not of understanding, and all the optical theories of the cause of the lustre will not help you in the least toward seeing the difference between diamond and glass, or anglesite and heavy spar.

Another illustration of the same fact is the constant failure of students to distinguish by the eye alone between the two minerals called copper-glance and gray copper. There is a difference of color and lustre which, although usually well marked, it requires an educated eye to distinguish.

Mineralogy undoubtedly demands a more careful cultivation of the perceptions than the other branches of chemistry; but still you will find abundant practice for close observation in them all. I have often known students to reach erroneous results in qualitative analysis by mistaking a white precipitate in a colored liquid for a colored precipitate, or by not attending to similar broad distinctions, which would have been obvious to any careful observer; and so in quantitative analysis, mere delicacy of touch or handling is a great element of success.

But I must pass on to speak of the importance in the study of Nature of accuracy in detail, which is the second condition of successful observation of which I spoke. We must cultivate not only accuracy in observing details, but also accuracy in following details which have been laid down by others for our guidance. In science we can not draw correct conclusions from our premises unless we are sure that we have all the facts, and what seemed at first an unimportant detail often proves to be the determining condition of the result; and, again, if we are told that under certain conditions a certain sign is the proof of the presence of a certain substance, we have no right to assume that the sign is of any value unless the conditions are fulfilled. A black precipitate, for example, obtained under certain conditions, is a proof of the presence of nickel, but we can not assert that we have found nickel unless we have followed out those details in every particular.

Of course, we must avoid empiricism as far as we can. We must seek to learn the reasons of the details, and such knowledge will not only render our work intelligent, but will also frequently enable us to judge how far the details are essential, and to what extent our processes may be varied with safety. We must also avoid trifling, and, above all, "the straining at a gnat and swallowing a camel," as is the habit with triflers. Large knowledge and good judgment will avoid all such errors; but, if we must choose between fussiness and carelessness, the first is the least evil. Slovenly work means slovenly results, and habits of carefulness, neatness, and order produce as excellent fruits in the laboratory as in the home.