Art. V. THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE.

Ir is now about sixteen years since, by the effort of a few individuals, the National Institute for the Promotion of Science was organized. That it met a great want of the American people is proved by the enthusiastic manner in which the learned and scientific throughout our country at once enrolled themselves as its members, whilst in every civilized land its organization was hailed as an era in our history, and we then formally took our place in the intellectual brotherhood of nations, as we had done before in the political. Young as we were, and compelled by the very fact of the undeveloped resources of our vast new country, to attend to the useful, rather than to the abstractly scientific, we could not enter that world of science and art as a compeer,-yet we were welcomed, for wherever true science is, there strife, envy, and jealously cease to exist: it is only "men of science falsely so called," to whom the evil-eye is given, who seek to destroy every structure save that which serves for their own elevation. Nor were material proofs of that feeling of brotherhood wanting. The old world-every civilized part of it-commenced to pour rich gifts into the lap of the Institute. Books, minerals, shells, various specimens of natural history-the rare, the priceless, were freely, lavishly given. Our wonderful physical progress had long been known-a progress in which we glory, and with reason, but that we should so soon be able to develop, not alone our material wealth and greatness, but by associated effort take at once our place in the great republic of mind-this, however devoutly wished, was not anticipated, and hence an increased joy was felt by the earnest lovers of truth-the hard-working students of science everywhere.

In 1844, at the call of the Institute, the first general meeting of its members was held. This was the first great national gathering of the men of science in America. Already the infant association had accomplished much-far more than even its sanguine founders had anticipated, and the materials it had gathered were of great value-enough for a nucleus to that great National Museum which America needed; but a cloud was gathering in its horizon-having a two-fold origin. The immense correspondence and contributions to the cabinet necessarily involved considerable expense, though for postage and freightage mainly, and the infant association had no fund to meet it. Even its success, so brilliant and unexpected, was thus the cause of serious embarrassment. Its constantly increasing treasures were all the property of the nation-legally invested in the general government by the noble disinterestedness of the founders of the association. The members had no title thereto, no pecuniary interest therein, other than as American citizens. They were, very many of them at least, enthusiastically devoted to the cause for which the Institute was organized-the promotion of science-and instances might be mentioned where members expended many thousand dollars in that cause, especially in securing and preserving those very collections which are still allowed to be stowed away in dusty nooks and corners, doing the world no more good than if they never had been reached by the eager toiling hand of genius.

The Institute was and is composed of America's students, and such are, with few exceptions, poor. They could not be expected to contribute so

largely as was requisite, for a cause strictly national; they gave their time and labor-the fruit of long years of toil-unpaid. They asked from our government a meager pittance to meet the necessary charges upon its own property-they were refused, and the little cloud upon the horizon overspread the sky. Surely the field is not all occupied. There is still intellect that needs culture-truth to be revealed, even in our mighty land. A hundred institutions already form shining points in the darkness, and yet there is room for more-yet need of a central sun; each may aid every other. But amongst them all there is not one so truly national in its organization, having such strong claims upon the patriotic heart, as this. It is not sectional-has no pecuniary reward for its members-is composed of and belongs to the people-is open to every student of nature in our land.

We have spoken of the National Institute in its early life, when a tide of unexampled prosperity bore it onward, until it met with a cold rebuff from those who should have nourished and shielded it, and found a jealous rivalry at work to destroy it. Many of its members felt the weight of discouragement too great, and made no farther effort in its behalf. A few have hoped and toiled on, and at length there is a lifting of the cloud. The Institute now sends out a call to every true votary of science, that all may again work together, and find renewed strength in union.

In all highly civilized countries, the advancement of science is felt to be the highest national glory, and so strong has been the popular devotion to it, that the hand of tyranny even has not dared to retard it. Hence, though material interests, personal liberty even have suffered, the nurseries of MIND have been protected, fostered, and to the truths therein developed and radiating thence, we owe much of that very prosperity of which we boast.

One great requisite to the advancement of science has ever been considered a National Museum. It is to the scientific what a library is to the literary. And more than this, it is a great public teacher, cultivating the general intellect, refining the general taste, and awaking in every mind a desire to drink deeper of that fountain whose source is the Great I Am. That every State in the Union will ultimately have a scientific museum, the State geological surveys and resulting collections, give sure promise; but we need more than these; we need a great National Gallery, which shall receive from and impart to every other, being itself the great center where not only the geology, botany, natural history, etc., of our vast country shall be fully represented, but in which the entire globe, in all its physical aspects, shall be mirrored. That the seat of the national government is the best location for such a great monument to Truth and Progress is evident from various considerations. It is here alone that our nation has entire jurisdiction. Here all sections of the country have an equal interest, and are equally represented. Hither "in every widening circles" will our people tend. And our national pride claims such an ornament for our capital. The poor inventor, as he tarries for the reward of his genius, would here have an opportunity afforded him of acquiring a degree of knowledge which, not thus aided, he might toil for and long for in vain. And would not many a one be drawn from the haunts of dissipation where unoccupied hours allure, by the newly awakened pleasure of intellectual enjoyment? Such is now the experience of Paris. Her Garden of Plants

and School of Mines are great moral as well as intellectual teachers; and as young as we are we feel a necessity for better influences, as well as our older sisters in the other hemisphere.

And is it asked how we are to attain to this great end? How are we to obtain this great National Gallery of Science and Art? The answer is: we have already much material-some of it visible in the hall of the Patent Office, much of it boxed as when it crossed the ocean-sent by earnest hearts and hands, and left for years unnoticed. The National Institute is constantly receiving these noble gifts from the various scientific and literary societies of Europe and America. It has a library of choice volumes, numbering about four thousand, more than five hundred boxes, barrels, and trunks of specimens yet unpacked, besides those partially arrranged with the collection made by the Exploring Expeditions. All these form no small nucleus around which may, with but a nominal expence to government, be gathered the finest collection in the world! Our army and navy and private effort will supply us with the material from the seas and from our own continent; by exchanges all that we need desire from the rest of the world can be secured, and our national treasury need be taxed only so far as to pay freightage, postage, etc. And may we not hope that the heart of our government will so expand as to care for these neglected treasures of the people? That whilst material interests are so all-absorbing, it may not forget that in the future of the republic these very interests must depend largely upon a knowledge of those very sciences which are now thought of so little account. Have not the people a right to ask that here, under the immediate eye of the government, these talents be no longer wrapped in a napkin, but be made to gather other treasures for them and their posterity?

Art. VI. DIGNITY OF THE MERCANTILE PROFESSION.

THE merchants of the United States compose the true aristocracy of the country. Elsewhere there is always a class, which, being recognized by society as a superior, can close its doors in the face of a man engaged in mercantile pursuits. Here, however, the position of the merchant is admitted to be paramount. If his business be a respectable one, and if it is pursued fairly and honorably, he is not only entitled to claim admission to any class to which he aspires, but he is at once placed by social courtesy among the first.

This is very proper, for upon him devolves the conduct of every measure intended to promote the public good; his judgment is consulted, and his liberality confidently relied on, whenever there is any movement of progress to be affected. As a general rule he is looked upon as a patron of science, literature, and the arts. Not only the Useful, but the Graceful and the Beautiful are the recipients of his bounty. He builds a railroad of a thousand miles-through mountains and over rivers-making the desert smile with plenty, and carrying comfort and luxury to the wilderHe builds and endows a college for the sons and daughters of toil; or a chapel for the pious poor. His means are a bank, whereon the

ness.

charitable and the needy, the deserving and the undeserving, the philosopher and the foundling, all alike draw at sight, and find their drafts promptly honored. The man of science solicits his judgment as to the practicability of his forthcoming invention; the artist craves his favor for his works; and the author looks to him for patronage. His time and his money are thought to be alike at the service of every adventurer, his advice and counsel are freely demanded, and in fine he is made the confident, and frequently the servant, of the public. In view of all this, he surely merits the highest place which society can grant.

Occupying, then, this desirable position, does it not become the young merchant to fit himself to adorn it? If so much power for good or evil is given to his position, should he not be fitted to discharge the trust which society reposes in him? "Whatever is worth doing is worth doing well," is a trueism which cannot be too often repeated. As much preparation is necessary in assuming the occupation of the merchant as in embracing any of the learned professions, though this preparation is of a different sort. An idea commonly prevails, among certain people, that nothing is requisite for success in trade but industry and attention. With these qualities a man may succeed, though they form but a small part of the essential qualifications of a merchant. There is scarcely any branch of knowledge which may not be advantageously used in the counting-house, and a liberal education tells as well on the merchant's cash-book as in the lawyer's briefs.

A want of proper preparation for this occupation is the cause of much difficulty, especially in the West and South. A worthy farmer has among his progeny a boy too lazy or too proud to work in the fields, whose ambition is directed to what he considers the luxurious ease of the store-keeper. The boy is forthwith sent to school for a quarter, where he gets a smattering of the elemental rules of arithmetic, and comes home prepared to invest a thousand dollars or so of his father's money in the purchase of a stock in trade. For this purpose he comes to the city, where he is laughed at by the clerks who accept his tempting cash, and give him in return, in some cases, whatever is least saleable in their stock. The young man returns home and commences the life of a merchant. He has some shrewdness, and the necessities of his location favor him, so that he makes a little money. His father and himself consider this pitiful success a proof of his capacity; and his growing ambition and increased confidence induce him to remove to the nearest city, where he will have a wider field in which to display his powers. To the city then he comes, and opens his market. Practice, judgment, and foresight, none of which he possesses, are all arrayed against him. Competition, of which he has not dreamed, contributes to fester him. He struggles for a little while with his own inefficiency, and then sinks, carrying with him in his fall the hard-earned gains of those who had favored him. Of how many, in every reader's experience, is this a faithful history?

Our nation is a commercial one, its merchants are its magnates; they really rule, whoever may seem to hold the reins of power. How important is it, then, that they should be competent to their position, and how absurd it is to suppose that so responsible an office is to be assumed without careful preparation. The various avocations of business are not to be undertaken with any hope of success, either by men devoid of fitness or

by mere machines. The first of these classes never succeed; the last sometimes do; but their success is unworthy. They are harnessed to their business, and it conducts them, not they it. They pursue a beaten track, without knowledge or judgment, and may plod on to fortune; though it is far more likely, in the present age, that their bolder compeers will outstrip them in the race, and leave their sorry ox-cart stalled in the mud of

their own dullness.

Too many persons, ignorant of the duties of the counting-house, look upon it as a tread-mill, where the same ceaseless round of unvarying duties is daily performed. There are even those young men who enter its portals with this belief fixed in their minds. Such men never beome liberal, enlightened, and intelligent merchants; it is not these who build libraries like ASTOR, or add to a nation's treasures like SMITHSON, or brighten the luster of its greatness like GRINNELL. Success in trade, as in everything else, depends on a correct conception of what is to be done, a sagacity to discover the means of doing it, and an energy to accomplish the result. Very great talent, in the ordinary sense of that term, is not necessary to successful business, but the cultivation of certain qualities of mind, always improves the chances for prosperity. Judgment of expediency, insight into character, tact, quickness of comprehension, and acquaintence with the present history of the world, are perhaps the main essentials of a business education. It is surely not necessary to attempt to prove the proposition that mental cultivation, of whatever sort, tends to brighten and develop all these qualities. It has been already urged, by some, that a liberal education has a tendency to unfit a man for the daily avocations of trade. This is only true in so much as he rejects the practical lessons of the counting-house. It is here that the faculties are best developed, that precision, regularity, and order is best taught, that the mental habit of generalization is best enforced, and that practicality most wisely teaches how to apply the information already gained. There was a time, in England, and even in some parts of the continent, where the merchant was esteemed as the most accomplished of all men, not merely in his own little circle of trade, but also in a comprehensive knowledge of the world and its history, and in all the graces of society. That time should return in the United States. Our merchants hold the peace of the world in their hands, and they would be little competent to the noble position assigned them, if they all esteemed plodding dullness and wilful ignorance as the proper requisites of their occupation. There is no class of men, whether at the bar, the forum, the pulpit, the library, or the workshop, who would not be benefited by the practical experience and intelligent observation required in the counting-house. And the counting-house should be conscious of its nobility, and while it should suffer no one to trench upon its dignity, it should zealously labor, by thought and attention, to compel all the world to acknowledge the virtue and value of its lessons.