THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA CHRONICLE AN OFFICIAL RECORD Vol. XX. No. 4 Hellenic Standards for the Modern World WILLIAM KELLEY PRENTICE The Dedication of the Citrus Experiment Station Dedication of the Citrus Experiment Station 27, 1918 THOMAS FORSYTH HUNT Address in Presenting Flags, Donated by the The Citrus Experiment Station and Graduate Irrigation and Crop Control A. N. WHEELOCK H. J. WEBBER JOHN A. WIDTSOE Remarks Made in Opening the Agricultural Dairying in Relation to the Citrus Industry F. Q. STORY H. E. VAN NORMAN The Development of California Fruit Industries The Trend of Research in Evolution and the On Theories Concerning Soils as Media for Plant E. J. WICKSON D. T. MACDOUGAL Growth University Record OCTOBER, 1918 ISSUED QUARTERLY One Dollar a Year CHARLES B. LIPMAN PUBLISHED BY THE UNiversity of CALIFORNIA UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS Entered as second-class matter, April 28, 1910, at the post office at Berkeley, California under the Act of July 16, 1894 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA CHRONICLE PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE EDITORIAL COMMITTEE OF THE ACADEMIC SENATE Mr. GEORGE M. CALHOUN General Editor THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA CHRONICLE publishes contributed articles, the chief addresses of general interest delivered at the University from time to time by distinguished visitors, and also as many as possible of the public addresses delivered at home or abroad by members of the faculty. Papers upon all subjects are admitted to its pages, provided the manner of their presentation is such as arouses general rather than technical interest. Each number contains also the UNIVERSITY RECORD, which presents in brief the annals of the University for the quarteryear preceding each issue of the magazine. Issued quarterly, in January, April, July, and October SUBSCRIPTIOn price, one DOLLAR A YEAR Foreign postage, twenty cents a year additional Subscriptions should be addressed to UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS BERKELEY 1918 An American artist, well known in this country and in England, Mr. Edwin Abbey, looking at a picture of the view from the Acropolis of Athens westward toward Salamis, said to me: "I don't suppose there is any other view in which so many people all the world over are so much interested." Mr. Abbey was a judge of such matters, and most of us would agree with him in this, even though other views may be more beautiful in themselves or may have even more important historic associations. The common education in all civilized countries heretofore has made most people more or less familiar with this view. There are not many of us who have not wondered at some time what it is like. Those who have seen it, cherish its memory. One can see it best from the west porch of the little temple of Victory, on the high spur at the southwestern angle of the Acropolis. The accretions of the intervening centuries have been removed from the ancient citadel. There, raised above the modern world, with the buildings of Periclean Athens at one's back, one sees in the foreground the Areopagus, "Mars' Hill," and beyond that the site of the ancient market and the ancient street where excavations have uncovered blocks of the ancient pavement, deeply scored by the ruts of wheels and smoothed by the passing * Address delivered at the annual meeting of the Phi Beta Kappa Society on May 14, 1918. of the feet of famous men. Above the market on the farther side there stands the old "Theseum," and beyond it spreads out the plain of Athens, clothed with olives, as of old. Straight in the line of vision run the roads to the Peiraeus, four miles away. There lies the harbor, from which the ancient galleys sailed. On the right is Mount Aegialeos, and in the distance Salamis and the strait where they fought the Persians. In the foreground on the left, across the ancient street, is the Pnyx Hill, where the Athenian assemblies met. Above its crest one sees Phaleron and the blue Aegean, thronged with storied islands, and farther still to the left the road to Marathon, the valley of the Ilissus, and massive Hymettus. These are famous names. The setting sun turns into golden wax the white marbles of the Acropolis, and transfigures the grey hills round about, making them radiant with a ruddy violet glow, while the empurpled islands seem to float upon their laughing, sparkling sea, and overhead the sky flames with indescribable splendor. For us the glory of the Golden Age floods over this scene with the radiance of a sunset. The glamour of classical literature is about it, and from it arise memories interwoven with our own traditions. The vision by which we are uplifted and inspired is not so much the vision of the things which meet the eye, as of those unseen things which are eternal. In spirit we are near akin to the ancient Greeks, because they struggled for and achieved the kinds of success to which we also most aspire. Their art, their literature, and their thought they made a possession for all time. We too have entered upon that possession. The foundations of our civilization we have received from them, and many of our loftiest ideals. Their faults and failures have grown dim and insignificant to us; the standards which they set for themselves are their greatest contribution to the world. Their aspirations hallow for us the view from the Acropolis of Athens, and make it seem of greater interest than any other. |