585 —- 
ADDRESSES 
AT THE UNVEILING OF THE 
JOSEPH. HENRY STATUE, 
AT 
WASHINGTON, D. 0., APRIL 19, 1883, 
by 
CHIEF-JUSTICE WAITE, 
Chancellor of tide Smithsonian Institution, 
Ajsh> 
NOAH POSTER, LL.D., 
FROM THE SMITHSONIAN REPORT FOR 1883. 
WASHINGTON: 
GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE. 
1884. BRONZE STATUE OE JOSEPH HENRY. 
1CHEOTF.1) ON THK BM1THLONIAN GROUNDS liY AUTHORITY OF AN ACT OF CONGRESS APPROVED JUNE 1, 
1880 ; AND UNVK1I.ED APRIL 19, 1883. 585 
ADDRESSES 
AT THE UNVEILING OF THE 
JOSEPH HENRY STATUE, 
AT 
WASHINGTON, D. C., APRIL 19, 1883, 
BY 
CHIEF-JUSTICE WAITE, 
Chancellor of the Smithsonian Institution, 
/and 
NOAH PORTER, LL.D., 
President of Yale College. 
FROM THE SMITHSONIAN REPORT FOR 1883. 
WASHINGTON: 
GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE. 
1 S 8 4. REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
To the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Institution : 
Gentlemen: Ad act of Congress (No. 71), approved by the Presi- 
dent June 1, 1880, authorized “the Regents of the Smithsonian Insti- 
tution to contract with W. W. Story, sculptor, for a statue in bronze of 
Joseph Henry, late Stcretary of the Smithsonian Institution, to be 
erected upon the grounds of said Institution; and for this purpose, and 
for the entire expense of the foundation and pedestal of the monument, 
the sum of 815,000” was appropriated. 
In accordance with the authority conferred in the above act, the 
Regents of the Institution executed a contract with Mr. Story on the 
8tli of December, 1880, for the statue. At Mr. Story’s request a num- 
ber of photographs of Professor Henry were sent to him to be used in 
preparing the model of the statue, and also a cast of the face and bust 
executed by Mr. Clark Mills, together with an academic gown similar 
to the one used by the professor when a member of the faculty of 
Princeton College. A contract was made with the Maine Red Granite 
Company and the Quincy Granite Polishing Works for a pedestal ac- 
cording to a design furnished by Mr. Story—the die of Red-Beach 
granite finely polished, octagonal in shape, 4 feet in diameter, 4 feet 
high, and the cap and bases of Quinoy gray granite, fine-axed, the 
whole pedestal being 7 feet 3 inches in height. The statue itself is nine 
feet high. 
Owing to certain imperfections found in the statue after it had been 
cast, it became necessary to reproduce it, and it was not until Novem- 
ber, 1882, that it was actually completed and shipped from Rome. The 
statue was received in Washington in December, but, owing to the late- 
ness of the season, it was decided to defer its erection until the follow- 
ing spring, and the date selected was the 19th of April, 1883, that being 
the time when the National Academy of Sciences (of which Professor 
Henry had been president at the time of his death) would hold its semi- 
annual meeting in Washington. For the site of the statue a triangular 
plot on the Smithsonian grounds, about 150 feet to the northwest of the 
building, was chosen by the Regents, and the selection met the full ap- 
proval of Mr. Story, who visited Washington in the winter. 
The Chancellor of the Institution was requested by the Regents to 
perform the ceremony of unveiling it. 
Hon. Hiester Clymer was selected to deliver an address appropriate 4 
REPORT ON THE 11ENRY STATUE. 
to the occasion, but on account of ill health declined the appointment, 
and President Yoah Porter, of Yale College, one of the Regents, was 
invited by the Executive Committee to perform the service. 
Rev. Dr. John Maclean and Rev. A. A. Hodge, of Princeton, N. J., 
were invited to offer prayer on the occasion. By reason of ill health, 
however, Dr. Maclean was prevented from attending. 
The direction of the executive details of the occasion were assigned 
by Professor Baird to Mr. William J. Rhees, the chief clerk. 
By direction of the Board of Regents, the following letter was ad- 
dressed by Professor Baird, Secretary of the Institution, to the Hon. 
Speaker of the House of Representatives, January 17,1883: 
“Sir: I have the honor to inform the House of Representatives that 
in accordance with the act of Congress of June 1, 1880, providing that 
the Regents of the institution be ‘authorized to contract with W. W. 
Story, sculptor, for a bronze statue of Joseph Henry, late Secretary of 
the Smithsonian Institution, to be erected in the grounds of said insti- 
tution/ the statue has been executed and received in Washington, and 
that Thursday the 19th of April has been selected as the day for the 
public unveiling of the same. 
“The Congress of the United States having ordered this statue and 
made the appropriation necessary therefor, the Board of Regents re- 
spectfully invite the Senate and House of Representatives to be present 
on the occasion of its formal presentation to the public. 
“I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant.” 
A joint resolution was passed by Congress, February 21,1883, accept- 
ing the invitation to attend the inauguration of the statue. 
“No. 16. Joint resolution accepting tlie invitation of tire Regents of the Smithsonian 
Institution to attend the inauguration of the statue of Joseph Henry. 
“ Whereas, in a communication from Spencer F. Baird, Secretary of 
the Smithsonian Institution, Congress was informed that in accordance 
with an act of June first, eighteen hundred and eighty, the bronze 
statue of Joseph Henry, late Secretary of the Smithsonion Institution, 
had been completed; and whereas, in the same communication, Con- 
gress was respectfully invited to be present on the occasion of its formal 
presentation to the public, upon Thursday the nineteenth of April next; 
Therefore be it 
Resolved by the Senate and Rouse of Representatives of the United States 
of America in Conyress assembled, That the said invitation be, and the 
same is hereby, accepted by the Senate and House of Representatives; 
and that the President of the Senate select seven members of that body, 
and the Speaker of the House of Representatives fifteen members of 
that body, to be present and represent the Congress of the United REPORT ON TIIE HENRY STATUE. 
5 
States upon tbe occasion of the presentation and inauguration of said 
statue.” 
Approved February 24, 1883. (Statutes, volume xxii, page 059.) 
Tbe following gentlemen were selected as tbe joint committee to rep- 
resent Congress: 
Senators: Hon. George F. Hoar, of Massachusetts; Eli Saulsbury, 
of Delaware; Samuel J. R. McMillan, of Minnesota; Joseph ft. Haw- 
ley, of Connecticut; William Mabone, of Virginia; Omar D. Conger, 
of Michigan; James B. Groome, of Maryland. 
Members of the House of Representatives: Hon. John T. Wait, of Con- 
necticut; William Aldrich, of Illinois; Thomas M. Browne, of Indiana; 
John A. Kasson, of Iowa; George M. Robeson, of New Jersey; John 
W. Candler, of Massachusetts; R. J. Walker, of Pennsylvania; A. H. 
Pettibone, of Tennessee; J. Proctor Knott, of Kentucky; J. Randolph 
Tucker, of Virginia; Andrew G. Curtin, of Pennsylvania; Randall L. 
Gibson, of Louisiana. 
In accordance with the previous arrangements, the statue was un- 
veiled on Thursday afternoon, April 19, 1883, at 4 o’clock. The day 
was clear, mild, and propitious, and about ten thousand people assem- 
bled to witness the ceremonies. 
The invited guests met in the lecture hall of the National Museum, 
and proceeded to the platform which had been erected around the statue. 
General O. M. Poe acted as chief marshal, and Messrs. Daniel Leech, 
John D. McChesney, and George S. Hobbs as assistant marshals. 
The following order of arrangement was adopted: 
The President of the United States; * the Chief Justice of the United 
States, Chancellor of the Institution; the orator of the day, President 
Noah Porter, LL.D., of Yale College; the chaplain of the day, Rev. 
A. A. Hodge, D. D.; the family of Professor Henry. 
The establishment of the Smithsonian Institution, viz, the Vice- 
President, Secretary of State, Secretary of the Treasury, Secretary of 
War, Secretary of the Navy, Secretary of the Interior, Postmaster-Gen- 
eral, Attorney-General, Commissioner of Patents. 
The Regents and Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, and Ex- 
Regents; the Joint Committee of the Senate and House of Representa- 
tives, appointed to represent Congress; the Diplomatic Corps; the As- 
sociate Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States; Judges of 
United States Courts; Claims Commissions; Judges of the Supreme 
Court of the District of Columbia; Senators and Members of the House 
of Representatives; Commissioners of the District of Columbia; the 
General and Officers of the Army; the Admiral and Officers of the Navy; 
Ex-Members of the Cabinet and Ex-Ministers of the United States; Na- 
tional Academy of Sciences; Founders of the Henry trust fund for 
Science; the Commissioner of Agriculture; the Assistant Secretaries of 
*Tlie President was absent from tbe citv at tlie time. 6 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE 
Departments; Solicitor-General and Assistant Attorneys-General; the 
United States Marshal and Officers of courts; the Light-House Board; 
the Heads of Bureaus; the Superintendent of the Coast Survey, the 
Superintendent of the Naval Observatory, the Superintendent of the 
Nautical Almanac, the Director of the Geological Survey, the Li- 
brarian of Congress; the Commissioner of Public Buildings, the Archi- 
tect of the Capitol, the Superintendent of the Government Printing- 
Office, the Superintendent of the Botanical Gardens, the Visitors of 
the Government Hospital for the Insane; officers of tbe Senate and 
House of Representatives; Trustees of the Corcoran Gallery of Art; the 
Washington Monument Society; officers and employes of the Smithso- 
nian Institution, Bureau of Ethnology, National Museum, and United 
States Fish Commission; Alumni of the College of New Jersey mem- 
bers of scientific organizations, &c. 
While this procession was moving from the hall in the Museum build- 
ing to the platform at the statue, the Marine Band, furnished through 
the courtesy of Hon. William E. Chandler, Secretary of the Navy, and 
of Colonel McCawley, Commandant of the Marine Corps, played a grand 
march, “Transit of Venusf composed by J. P. Sousa, the leader of the 
band. 
The following was the order of exercises: 
I. Music—Marine Band (J. P. Sousa, conductor), “The Hallelujah Chorus” 
(Messiah), Handel. 
II. Prayer—Rev. A. A. Hodge, D. D., of Princeton, N. J. 
III. Address—Chief Justice Waite, Chancellor of the Institution. 
IV. Unveiling the Statue. 
V. Music (Philharmonic Society and full Marine Band, E. C. Bernays, con- 
ductor)—Grand chorus, “The Heavens are Telling” (Creation), Haydn. 
VI. Oration—Rev. Dr. Noah Porter, President of Yale College. 
VII. Music (J. P. Sousa, conductor)—Grand March Triumphale, “ Schiller,” 
Meyerbeer. 
The Philharmonic Society was assisted by members of the Washing- 
ton Operatic Associatiou, the Rossini and Church Choir Choral Socie- 
ties, the Washington Sangerbuud and Germauia Manuerchor. The 
arrangements for the music were made by a Committee of the Philhar- 
monic Society, of which Prof. F. Widdows was chairman. The Chief 
of Police furnished a detail for the grounds; Mr. Edward Clark, Archi- 
tect of the Capitol, supplied music stands and stools for the Marine 
Band; the Quartermaster’s Department lent flags, and the Department 
of Agriculture living plants for decorating the platform. Mr. W. R. 
Smith, Superintendent of the Botanic Gardens, also furnished floral 
decorations. 
The platform was constructed under the superintendence of Mr. C. 
W. Schuerman aud Mr. G. W. Field, and the mechanical arrangements 
for unveiling the statue were devised by Mr. Joseph Palmer. At the report on the henry statue. 
7 
moment of unveiling the statue the news was telegraphed from an in- 
strument on the platform, which had been placed there by Mr. L. Whit- 
ney, the Superintendent of the Western Union Telegraph Company. 
The ushers on the platform were Messrs. W. C. Lewis, Harry C. Shus- 
ter, Henry D. Finckel, William T. Wyman, Edward C. Bryan, Frank 
Bryan, William B. Stimpson, and Ellis Lammond; Mr. Henry Horan, 
Superintendent of the National Museum, having general charge of the 
accommodations of the public. 
Respectfully submitted. 
Peter Parker, 
W. T. Sherman, 
Executive Committee. 
Washington, December 15, 1883 PRAYER 
BY 
REV. DR. H O D <3- E . 
Eternal and almighty God, Creator, Preserver, and Governor of the 
world, we have gathered here to adore Thy holy name, to implore Thy 
divine protection, and to invoke Thy blessing. 
We bless Thee that, having brought the physical universe to its pres- 
ent perfection and made it the vehicle of reflecting and expressing Thy 
transcendent perfections, Thou hast made man in Thine own likeness 
and endowed him with intelligence, capable of discerning and of inter- 
preting the intellectual basis of all phenomena, the personal element in 
all law. We bless Thee that Thou hast never left Thyself without a 
witness even in the darkest period of human history; that wherever 
men have sought the Lord, however feebly, if haply they might feel 
after Him and find Him, He has been found always to be not far from 
any one of us, seeing that He is imminent in all existence and in all 
life, and that in Him we live and move and have our being. 
We bless Thee that Thou hast sent through the ages a long line of 
inspired prophets and teachers, crowned by the incarnation in human 
flesh of Thy co-equal Son, to reveal in ever-increasing fullness the nature 
of Thy moral government, the method of Thy redemption, and the glory 
of Thy kingdom; so Thou hast in these later days sent into the physical 
universe many intelligent and earnest students, who, in various depart- 
ments, are investigating the secrets of nature, and interpreting the 
methods of Thy sublime working throughout the vast areas of time 
and space. We bless Thee that Thou art gathering to Thyself so vast 
and rich and constant a revenue of glory through the loving ministry of 
science in all her various provinces. We thank Thee that so many of 
her' princes have been loyal to Thy service and have rejoiced to make 
all men to realize the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and of the 
knowledge of God. 
Especially we thank Thee for the spotless example of Thy servant, 
whose illustrious career is to be commemorated throughout all time by 
9 10 
REPORT OX THE HENRY STATUE. 
the monument we are now unveiling. We bless Thee that he was as 
humble and simple in his Christian faith as he was great in his intel- 
lectual achievements or pre-eminent in his world-wide fame. We pray 
Thee that his memory as a Christian philosopher may be preserved in 
imperishable freshness and force through succeeding generations, that 
his influence for good may be ever extended, and that his example may 
be followed as his serene fame excites the emulation of multitudes of 
the interpreters of nature and of the teachers and benefactors of man- 
kind. 
And now, in anticipation of the general judgment, when in the res- 
urrection the perfected Church shall enter the new heavens and the new 
earth of the perfected physical universe, we ascribe unto Thee, at once 
the Lord of nature and of grace, blessing and glory, and wisdom, and 
thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might, unto our God that sit- 
tetli upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever. Amen. ADDRESS 
OF 
CHIEF JUSTICE WJlITE. 
On the 1st of June, 18S0, at the instance of Mr. Morrill, of Vermont, in 
the Senate, and of Mr. Clyiner, of Pennsylvania, in the House of Repre- 
sentatives, Congress authorized the Regents of the Smithsonian Institu- 
tion to contract with Mr. W. W. Story “ for a statue, in bronze, of Joseph 
Henry, late Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, to be erected on 
the grounds of the Institution’7; and the Regents, availing themselves of 
the presence in Washington of the members of the National Academy 
of Sciences, with which Professor Henry was so prominently and so hon- 
orably connected for many years, have asked you here to-day to witness 
the presentation to the public of the result of what has been done under 
this authority. 
On the 10th of August, 1846, Congress established the Smithsonian 
Institution, to take the property which had been given to the United 
States by the will of James Smithson, of England, to found an estab- 
lishment of that name “for the increase and diffusion of knowledge 
among men.” 
The business of the Institution was to be managed by a Board of Re- 
gents, and they were required to elect some suitable person as Secretary 
of the Institution. On the 3d of December, 1846, the Board met to per- 
form that duty, and before entering on the election adopted the follow- 
ing resolution : 
“Resolved,. That it is essential for the advancement of the proper in- 
terests of the trust that the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution 
be a man possessing weight of character and a high grade of talent; 
and that it is further desirable that he possess eminent scientific and 
general acquirements; that he be a man capable of advancing science 
and promoting letters by original research and effort, well qualified to 
act as a respected channel of communication between the Institution 
and scientific and literary individuals and societies in this and foreign 
11 12 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
countries; and, in a word, a man worthy to represent before the world 
of science and letters the Institution over which this Board presides.” 
Immediately after the adoption of this resolution the Board proceeded 
to the election, and the first ballot resulted in the choice of Professor 
Henry, then occupying the chair of natural philosophy iu Princeton 
College. Experience has shown that the world possessed no better man 
for such a place. He was all the resolution required, and more; and 
from the day of his election until now, the wish has never been ex- 
pressed that another had been chosen in his stead. 
He accepted the appointment on the 7th of December, and on the 
next day, the 8th, finished and sent to the Begents an elaborate paper 
giving his views of the will of Smithson, and presenting a plan for the 
organization of the Institution. He entered on the performance of his 
duties on the 21st of December, and from that day until his death, on 
the 13th of May, 1878, almost one-third of a century, he wras engaged 
in making the Smithsonian Institution what its munificent founder de- 
sired it to be—an active and efficient instrument for the increase and 
diffusion of knowledge. 
The statue which will now be unveiled has been erected by the 
United States as a token of gratitude for the labors of his useful life, 
and for his faithful administration of the important public trust so long 
in his keeping. ORATION 
BY 
PRESIDENT NOAH PORTER. 
We are assembled to complete the long series of public honors to the 
late Joseph Henry by unveiling the statue which has been erected to his 
memory. These honors have been manifold, but each one of them has 
been well deserved and most cordially bestowed. 
His funeral obsequies were attended by the President of the United 
States and other officials of the Government which he had so faithfully 
served, by representatives from the many learned and scientific socie- 
ties of which he had been a conspicuous member and ornament, and by 
a large following of those who honored and mourned him as a friend. 
Subsequently a more formal commemoration of his scientific and pub- 
lic services was held at the Capitol, at which were present the Execu- 
tive of the nation, the Judiciary, the Senate, and the House of Repre- 
sentatives. On this occasion a discriminating and sympathizing sketch 
of his personal and public life was given by one who had known him 
long and was singularly qualified to do him justice in every particular. 
This was followed by other warm and eloquent tributes to his genius 
as a philosopher and his excellence as a man. Memorable among 
these were the ringing words of the noble Rogers, whose own sudden 
euthanasia was like the translation of a prophet; and the warm- 
hearted eulogy of the generous and glowing Garfield, whose noble life 
was slowly wasted that it might measure the intensity of the nation’s 
grief. 
Many, if not all, of the institutions of the country with which Pro- 
fessor Henry had a more or less intimate connection have also honored 
him by records and estimates of his services to science, education, and 
philosophy. The tributes to his honor from other countries have also, 
been cordial and numerous. 
Last of all, the two Houses of Congress, with the approval of the 
President, have ordered that a statue in bronze should be erected within 
13 14 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
the grounds of the Institution, which was the creation of his genius 
and industry, as a permanent memorial of his services and his worth. 
This statue is now completed, and has this moment been unveiled to 
public view. We are here to receive the first impressions of this endur- 
ing monument, which we trust will stand for many generations, to declare 
the fame and attest the manifold excellences of this eminent servant of 
science and benefactor of the American people. 
The proprieties of the occasion forbid that I should recite the events 
of Professor Henry’s life or attempt a critical judgment of his services 
or his merits as a philosopher. To do either were superfluous, in view 
of the accuracy and fullness with which both have been done by others. 
All that I shall aim to do is to give a summary expression to that esti- 
mate of the man and his work which I am confident other generations 
will accept, and which this statue is designed to suggest aud perpetuate. 
It is pleasant for us to notice that Professor Henry was born on the 
eve of this century, so memorable for the development of the sciences 
of nature and their splendid applications to art; that just as this new 
era was opening, the wonders of the physical universe were begin- 
ning to be explored by the wondering eyes of our infant philosopher. 
They were wondering eyes indeed, wakeful, sensitive, and responsive 
from the first. It is a mistake to suppose, because Professor Henry’s 
external circumstances were unfavorable to the early discipline of 
books and the school, that his mind was ever crass and inactive. His 
own testimony and that of his friends is positive that from the first he 
was a sensitive and dreamy boy, who found enough in the common 
earth and air, and the play of common scenes to stimulate his creative 
powers and to furnish material for his long day dreams, as lie lay on 
the sunny hillside aud looked up into the glowing sky. Against the 
animalism and sensuality which are incident to an aimless youth he 
was defended by the stern moralities and the wholesome religion of his 
domestic training, enforced as these were by the economies of a 
straitened but not ignoble household. Indeed, the household was far 
removed from either. Were we curious in these matters we should 
find that he was born of gentle blood, being of Celtic stock on the 
mother’s side, running back through many generations to a noble house, 
and preserving its coat of arms and motto, “ I fear no one, I despise no 
one,” which this noble descendant never dishonored. His mother was 
beautiful and refined and full of spirit, who had a home in Albany, and 
but little else, when her husband died, the son being then seven years 
of age. Before this event he had been removed to the country, the REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
15 
mother’s original home, the family retaining their house in Albany as 
their principal reliance. In this village young Henry was the pet for 
several years, handsome, frolicsome, and venturesome on the one hand, 
and dreamy, wondering, and self-reliant on the other, rejoicing in 
adventure rather than in books, till a romance suddenly falling in his 
way kindled his imagination, and unveiled human life as pictured by 
the fancy with prismatic hues—awakening thus a brief passion for 
fiction and the drama. The transition to the acted drama was natural 
to his inventive and energetic nature, and for a time he delighted to 
attend dramatic representations when at Albany for longer or shorter 
periods, and to reproduce them at home, as his changing life led him 
from one occupation to another. If we connect these well-known facts 
with what he himself lias written of the elements and order of educa- 
tion, we conclude that his early musings and questionings, his boyish 
sports and adventures, were fondly remembered by him as the inspira- 
tion of his rational and scientific life. “ The cultivation of the imagi- 
nation,” he writes, “ should be considered an essential part of a liberal 
education, and this may be spread over the whole course of instruction, 
for, like the reasoning faculties, the imagination may continue to im- 
prove until late in life.” “Memory, imitation, imagination, and the 
faculty of forming mental habits exist in early life, while the judgment 
and reasoning faculties are of slow growth.” “The order of nature is 
that of art before science, the entire concrete first and the entire ab- 
stract last.” These are wise and weighty words, but they are of special 
interest when we bethink ourselves that the writer, when he penned 
them, was doubtless all the while thinking of a dreaming boy, half 
buried in the grass, looking up wistfully into the sky, thinking won- 
drous thoughts too deep for tears, perhaps peopling with phantoms and 
fairies that world of nature which he subsequently penetrated by those 
wise questionings and ingenious theories which his sagacious experi- 
ments turned into solid verities. He certainly could have been think- 
ing of no one else when in the same connection he so positively affirms, 
“The future character of a child, and that of a man also, is in most 
cases formed probably before the age of seven years.” 
From these musings he was awakened in his later boyhood suddenly 
and abruptly, as by a call from nature herself. During a week of indis- 
position, perhaps of serious reflection over an aimless and possibly a 
tempted life, he was suddenly aroused by the consciousness that the 
common phenomena of nature are the products of forces acting under 
laws, and that it is possible for man to interpret these mysteries. It was 16 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
a simple sentence or two from a common-place though useful book, but 
the thought in that sentence kindled a fire in the mind prepared for a 
flame which was never extinguished. This thought held his attention; 
it took possession of his memory; it quickened the imagination already 
glowing with romances of another sort; it decided his life. These words 
had been read and recited by thousands of boys before, but to this boy 
they were spirit and life. They became a fire in his bones, and proved 
the intellectual energy which had been slumbering within, by the force 
of the reaction which they aroused. So definite was the impression 
which they made, and so fervent and serious the resolve which they 
called into life, that he promptly summoned his companions, that he 
might solemnly announce to them his purpose henceforth to dedicate 
himself to a priesthood of love and service at the altar of science. To 
prepare for this service was no holiday work. His novitiate involved 
labor and self-denial. He must earn the means which would buy not 
only books and leisure and tuition, but also food and clothing. How 
these difficulties were surmounted it is needless to recite. The story is 
more or less familiar to you all. 
It is important to notice that this work of preparation was neither 
hasty nor superficial. He did not rush with reckless impetuosity within 
the temple, nor leap with a bound to the footsteps of the altar. He 
mastered the geometry, without which Plato admitted no man even to 
the vestibule of science. He became familiar with the Calculus, as the 
magic spell by which to interpret her inner mysteries. Experiments 
with that wondrous chemistry which was then at its most brilliant stage 
of promise and performance fascinated and quickened his imagination 
and his intellect. Each forward step was taken in orderly succession, 
though each single step was the stride of a giant. 
At the age of twenty-eight we find him a professor in the Albany 
Academy, of which he had been a graduate, charged with the work of 
teaching several hours every day, and tasking himself with burning 
zeal over every possible inquiry in chemistry and physics. As we have 
said already, it was in the brilliant dawn of modern chemistry. As 
this new science steadily rose above the horizon, one new discovery 
after another flashed its light toward the zenith and indicated its up- 
ward path of triumph. In its train appeared those new and mysterious 
agencies which were then just beginning to fix the attention and to task 
the analysis of the oldest and the newest discoverer. To these novel 
phenomena the young Professor Henry devoted his special attention, 
and soon astonished the world by achievements which first awakened REPORT ON IHE HENRY STATUE. 
17 
the excitement of bewildered wonder, to convert it into the homage of 
amazed conviction. There was nothing to be said when, as the plunger 
went down into its bath, the impotent bar of iron became possessed of 
a giant’s strength, and could pick up and hold a weight of more than a 
solid ton, and as the same plunger was lifted this gigantic energy van- 
ished as at the word of an enchanter. The speaker well remembers the 
excitement which this discovery occasioned when the first experiment 
was tried at Yale college, in presence of a few spectators who casually met 
at the call of Professor Silliman, who was glowing with animation and 
delight. The ponderous platform was loaded with pig-iron and other 
heavy weights, with a few slight additions of living freight. Among 
the last was the speaker, being the lightest of all, and therefore con- 
venient to serve on the sliding scale. It is more than fifty years ago, 
but the scene is as vivid as the events of yesterday. The question went 
around, “Who is Professor Henry, and how did it happen that nature 
revealed to him one of her choicest secrets'?” Thoughtful men asked, 
“What is this wondrous Protean force which he was the first to follow 
in its sinuous hiding places and evoke by a magician’s wand; and 
what are its relations to its kindred agents, and, above all, to the mat- 
ter about us, which we can measure and weigh and see and handle?” 
Others asked the still more important question, “How came the dis- 
coverer to surmise its mysterious capacities and to penetrate to the 
laws of its action?” To some it seemed but a successful guess by a 
daring adventurer, a happy hit by a rude fambler among nature’s tools, 
a lucky accident, like the drawing of a prize in a lottery. It was not 
so with those wrho retraced the successive steps of close observation, of 
sagacious interpretation, of boundless invention, of ingenious construc- 
tion, of patient trial, of loving sympathy, which preceded this single 
achievement, and all of which combined lifted at once this youth, hith- 
erto unknown, into the rank of the most eminent discoverers, brilliant 
as was their company then and since. This achievement was not soli- 
tary. It was quickly followed by others almost as fruitful as the parent 
discovery. Conspicuous among these were the possible and certain 
application of the electro magnetic power to distant communication, by 
the alternate lifting and dropping of the armature, moving as a lever, 
wdien conjoined with the indefinite linear extension and multiplied 
intensification of the subtile and enormous agency. Herein was dis- 
covered the scientific secret and the assured prophecy of telegraph and 
telephone, with their wonders of written language aud audible speech. 
From Albany, in the year 1832, Professor Henry wras transferred to 
115a 2 18 
REPORT OX THE I1EXRY STATUE. 
Princeton, through the wise sagacity of our honored associate, Rev. 
President John Maclean, and the generous and cordial recommendations 
of some of the most honored leaders of American science. The step was 
a bold one, and might seem almost rash, to transfer to a college a man 
who had himself lacked the breadth of early culture and the discipline 
and acquisitions of scientific thought which the college curriculum is sup- 
posed to give. His insight into nature’s secrets might seem to be mag- 
ical; but for this very reason could he share these secrets with his pupils'? 
Would not the very swiftness of his own processes of thought disqual- 
ify him from imparting them to others? Would not the lightning 
rapidity with which, as a discoverer, he had leaped from indication to 
theory, and combined probabilities into evidence, hinder him from dis- 
cerning that there were any steps in the process or any articulation in 
the proofs ? Whatever misgivings of this sort there might have been— 
and the failures of many eminent scientists have proved that they were 
not without reason—were all set aside by his acknowledged skill as an 
instructor at Albany and his pre-eminent success at Princeton. Not 
only did he give himself to instruction with exemplary zeal and pains- 
taking, but he studied the theory of teaching as he studied electro- 
magnetism, by reflecting upon its conditions and laws, aud using wise 
experiments in concrete applications. He did more. He used his 
special studies as examples of general philosophical inquiry, whatever 
might be the subject-matter, and sought by means of these to introduce 
his pupils to the theory of inductive research and the nature of scien- 
tific evidence, however these should be applied. This was a subject 
which he had ever at heart—the discipline of the mind to a true philo- 
sophic method, as the best preparation and security for sound science, 
clear insight, strong convictions, and practical wisdom. But he was 
none the less but rather the more active aud enterprising in his favor- 
ite studies, a living and inspiring example of scientific ardor, of wake- 
ful enterprise, aud unceasing experimentation. It would seem as 
though every thunder storm brought him a new opportunity; every 
gale of wind swept into his mind some new freightage of thought; 
every apartment proposed or solved some problem in acoustics; every 
morning dawn waked him for some fresh experiment, and every even- 
ing shut down the day with some new acquisition. His very house 
was made an enormous electric accumulator and conductor of electric 
energy. In all these varied avocations it was not in that he was busy 
or many-sided that his marked superiority was seen, but in that he was 
original, wide-minded, and persevering. His insight seemed to pene- REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
19 
trate at a glance into the secrets of nature, and his capacity for saga- 
cious hypothesis almost to call into being the forces which it uncovered 
and to impose the laws which it interpreted. Besides this there was a 
largeness and originality in his experiments which invested him with 
the authority of priest and magician in the presence of nature. In all 
combined there was the strength and simplicity of scientific genius. 
This active and fruitful life continued for fourteen years, when, at the 
age of forty-eight, in the year 18IG, he was called to Washington as the 
first Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. 
At first it might seem that a situation like this would be attractive to 
any man, but on second thought many reasons would suggest themselves 
why, to a man like Professor Henry, interested as he was in teaching, 
devoted to research, and with the scientific world watching eagerly his 
experiments, the attractions of the place should be scanty and feeble. 
It is only when we learn how he regarded the possibilities and demands 
of the place, and his own capacity and purpose to meet them, that we 
can explain the readiness with which he responded to this call. The 
Secretary was to initiate and control the policy of a novel institution, 
with a handsome but not extravagant endowment given to the United 
States, for the increase and diffusion of knowledge among men. Loosely 
interpreted, the terms of the gift might admit any application of pop- 
ular usefulness. But when read in the light of the known tastes of the 
giver and the previous bequest of his estate to a society which was se- 
verely scientific in its functions, and especially when interpreted by the 
eminent need and certain usefulness of a special application, it became 
clear to Professor Henry that this gift should be used exclusively in the 
interests of the increase and diffusion of scientific knowledge. He fore- 
saw and foretold that his theory would at first encounter active dissent 
and opposition. He was equally confident that it would finally become 
popular and attractive. Before he entered upon his duties the Institu- 
tion had been partially committed to another policy. It was not till 
after eight years of discussion and reports in committees and in both 
houses of Congress, in which some of the ablest and most brilliant mem- 
bers were conspicuous, that the policy of Professor Henry at last pre- 
vailed, and has ever since justified itself to the approval of the nation. 
It was not because Professor Henry despised literature that he did not 
favor the attempt to found a splendid library, for few men were more 
sensitive to its charms or appreciative of its power. Much less that he 
did not understand the value of a museum to an ardent interest in which 
he was pledged by his fondness for natural history and his curious zeal 20 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
in ethnology and archaeology, but because he saw a need and opportu- 
nity for an institution that should be limited to the increase and diffu- 
sion of scientific knowledge. Finis coronat opus. The experiment has 
justified the theory. Not only have the workings of the Smithsonian 
Institution vindicated the wisdom of his anticipations, but it is itself a 
monument to his strong convictions and unyielding tenacity, tempered 
as these were by singular simplicity, patience, and unselfishness. Had 
it not been for these characteristics the Smithsonian Institution as we 
know it would never have existed at all. Were it not for the modesty 
of the man we could hear this statue speak as it surveys the scene of 
his life-work, Si monumentum queer is, circumspice. More than this should 
be said. Every one of the great interests which were at first loaded 
upon the Institution, as the National Library, the Museum, and a collec- 
tion of Art, has in the end been better provided for and attained a more 
vigorous growth or a more hopeful promise than had Professor Henry’s 
policy failed. Had he relaxed from his tenacity, or had a man of less 
commanding influence represented his opinions, these separate interests 
might have foundered with the central bureau, or had the Smithsonian 
Institution survived, it might have been what it seems to many a casual 
visitor—merely a show place to stimulate and gratify an aimless curi- 
osity, or in which to pass an idle hour of gazing and wonder—instead 
of being what it is, a busy working place, where research is devised, di- 
rected, stimulated, and rewarded, at which its results are reported and 
thence diffused through the countless nerve centers which animate and 
build the complicated organism which maintains the scientific life of the 
civilized world. In this organism this Institution holds a place and 
performs a function which has no exact counterpart. It is a function 
which is specially needed in a young and growing couutry like our own, 
so vast in its spaces, so comprehensive in its geology, so varied in its 
climate, so ample in its physical resources, so fascinating in its archae- 
ology, so mysterious in its ethnology, so instructive in its history—all 
the parts of which are connected by political bonds with its capital, 
and respond with a more or less ready sympathy to the pulses of life 
which throb at the Nation’s heart. It was no slight service which Pro- 
fessor Henry rendered to his country as well as to the world when he 
gave character and efficiency to this new agency in the life of both. 
To mature and carry into effect the conception of such an institution, 
with no model after which to copy, was the work of a master mind and 
was worthy of a devoted and laborious life. That Professor Henry 
gave to this work the best activities of more than thirty years no man REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
21 
will doubt; that lie was unwearied iu liis labors and cares, faithful to 
the minutest details and energetic in administration, is confessed by all 
men. His official correspondence would have been burdensome had it 
been merely a correspondence of routine, but much of it involved pro- 
found reflection, productive invention, and the skillful enforcement of 
principles. Into all these services he entered with a spirit which was 
conscientious and patient in the extreme. 
it would not have been surprising if his scientific ardor had thereby 
been cooled, his invention had been limited, and his many-sidedness 
had been curtailed. This does not seem to have been true. From the 
beginning to the end of these more than thirty years he was almost as 
inventive, ingenious, alert, and wide-minded as when he achieved the 
triumphs of his earliest manhood. Though many of his discoveries and 
inventions were in the line of his official responsibilities, they all bore 
the stamp of scientific genius. During all this period, it should be re- 
membered, the sciences of nature were making a progress such as the 
world had never witnessed before—progress in every form, from the 
severest mathematical analysis, through the ever ascending steps of ad- 
venturous speculation, up to the most gorgeous cloud-lands of theory. 
Experiment, too, had never made such daring ventures, whether in 
the form of applications to art or the determination of problems purely 
scientific. With every one of these onward movements, whether of 
theory or experiment, Professor Henry was in active sympathy. In 
many of the most importa.ut he was the leader of thought and act, as 
witness his place in the very earliest anticipations of the doctrine of the 
correlation of force; his prophetic experiments and suggestions in re- 
spect to the use of the telegraph in meteorological observations and the 
reports of astronomical discovery; his devices to render available the 
reports and essays scattered over the scientific world by a systematized 
bibliography; his long-continued researches in respect to light and 
sound which were incidental to his official experiments as a member of 
the Light-House Board; his comprehensive experiments in respect to the 
sustaining capacity of building stone; and his never-ceasing study of 
acoustics iu every possible production, prolongation, and disturbance 
of sound, whether in his owii parlor, in solitary walks, in fog or sun- 
shine, or iu travel by land or sea. 
It was, as I have said, a great thing for science and for the country, 
that in this formative and fermenting period such a man resided at the 
capital and represented the interests of science by his official connec- 
tion with this one national institution which was sacredly devoted to 22 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
scientific research and information. He had foreseen and foretold from 
the first that Washington would certainly become a great center of sci- 
entific activity; that it must inevitably be the residence and resort of 
an increasing number of men of scientific tastes and pursuits. He bad 
this in mind from the first, and uttered it as a prophecy, before his own 
policy in respect to the Smithsonian Institution had been accepted, and 
long before the signs had multiplied of its speedy fulfillment. 
This fulfillment wTas indeed conditional on the continuance of tbe 
nation’s integrity and the perpetuation of its united life. There were 
times when this seemed doubtful, when from the Capitol itself, and even 
from this Institution below it, there might almost be descried tbe threat- 
ening lines and fortifications of those who would not scruple to sacrifice 
both to the impetuous necessity of what was called lawful war. During 
these years of agitating strife it was but the dictate of a well-poised 
self-command which kept Professor Henry quietly at his work, with no 
doubtful loyalty indeed, but in such singleness of aim, that when peace 
was conquered it found no personal bitterness towards himself in the 
ranks of scientific men. To his philosophic wisdom and his unques- 
tioned integrity it may, in part, be owing that, after tbe centennial 
anniversary of 1876, the nation was so ready to enlarge the appliances 
of science and at tbe same time to commemorate its own continued 
life by erecting upon these grounds, under tbe care of tbe Smithsonian 
Institution, the splendid National Museum, which all delight to visit 
and to praise. 
Tbe fact cannot be disguised that the devotees of science have aliena- 
tions and strifes of their own, sometimes arising from personal jeal- 
ousies and more frequently from opposing theories. Professor Henry 
was lifted above all personal partisanship by tbe severe singleness with 
which he devoted himself to his scientific and official activities. He 
never sought for place or honor, directly or indirectly. He was fasti- 
diously sensitive in respect to the appropriation of bis own inventions 
by the production of a patent or a claim for extra compensation. His 
salary was notoriously smaller than he might have earned in other posts, 
but he never either deserted his post, or asked for increase of pay. In- 
deed the last was declined more than once when suggested by his friends. 
It was only when his truthfulness was questioned in respect to one of 
the most important of his discoveries, that he vindicated bis claims to 
scientific confidence. Whoever might be jealous of bis fellow scientists, 
no one could question Henry’s even-handed justice or bis personal up- 
rightness. REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
23 
Iu the wars of theory against theory he was recognized as an upright 
mediator, who thoroughly understood the criteria by which scientific 
truth can be established and would impartially apply them. If political 
or ethical or theological traditions seemed to conflict with established 
scientific principles or facts, he calmly awaited the issue and insisted 
that science must have its rights whatever might be the consequences 
to any received ethical or theological interpretations. Though his own 
faith was fixed and fervent in respect to the leading Christian verities, 
he scorned with all the energy of scientific integrity to apply these con- 
victions as a test to any question that was properly scientific. It would 
have been strange if a man who was always learning something new 
had not modified his views of objective and practical Christian truth 
with the progress of his mind and his manhood, but he would never 
acknowledge any base compromise of sentimentalism or mysticism or 
one eyed dogmatism with the processes or conclusions of his scientific 
thinking. Within the domain of science proper lie was a clear-eyed, 
impersonal, and uncompromising arbiter and judge. Theorists might 
complain, dogmatists might rage, zealots might bemoan, but not one of 
them would dare accuse the judge of an ignorant or partisan decision. 
The multitude of fancied inventors, discoverers, and projectors who 
came to him for help and encouragement, the crowd of scientific dreamers 
who craved a favorable decision or official help or patronage, the scores 
and hundreds whom he was forced to reject and disappoint often of the 
hopes and dreams of their lives, these all felt that however mistaken 
he might be, he was upright and kind so far as he knew. They were 
always patiently listened to and gently dismissed, though they did not 
always heed his benediction to go in peace. 
For all these high and varied functions, in his high position, Professor 
Henry had one supreme advantage, in that he had not only studied and 
mastered so many of the sciences of nature, but that he made science 
itself in its principles and processes the subject of his profoundest reflec- 
tion. We have abundant evidence that from the time when he made 
his earliest discoveries his mind was not content to search after the 
secrets of nature without, but was equally curious to discover the secret 
of the processes by which man interprets the forces and laws which 
nature hides with such studious reserve. From the time when he began 
at Albany till the end of his life this was prominently and avowedly 
tire theme of his constant meditation. In making this a study he was not 
singular among eminent scientists, but only in that from the beginning 24 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
to the end this seemed to haunt him as the most wonderful problem of 
all. This habit forced him to contemplate all the sciences of nature as 
an organic whole, having intimate relations that are broader and deeper 
than those which are limited to any single class of phenomena. It 
forced him to study and question most closely the process of knowledge, 
the sublimest and most fundamental phenomenon in nature, that he 
might know how far to trust its products and by what criteria to test its 
conclusions. We find evidence of this habit of mind in the questions 
which he suggests in his earlier essays and in the partial solutions 
which he gives in his miscellaneous writings. Such a habit would 
insensibly train him to exalt the human intellect in its higher functions, 
with its principles and laws, its axioms and intuitions, its theories and 
anticipations, its forecasting questionings, its creative hypotheses, its 
tentative theories, and its decisive experiments, and to assure himself 
that an agent or agency such as this could have no affinity with matter 
and own no allegiance to physical laws. Even in the suggestion that the 
thinking agency which interprets the universe by authoritative question 
and answer, could once have slumbered in a fiery cloud or could have 
been evolved from any material mind-stuff, by any series of physical 
processes, however daintily phrased, seems never to have been enter- 
tained by him for an instant as having the semblance of scientific prob- 
ability. And yet there is abundant evidence from his writings, both 
early and late, that he was in no sense behind the times or ignorant of 
the fascinating plausibilities of the newest and the most fantastic of 
theories. While he was almost the earliest in the field to formulate and 
defend the doctrine of the correlation of force and to concede that it may 
be applied to all the processes that are properly physiological, he was 
equally sharp and positive in the assertion that the mental agencies of 
every kind cannot be the correlate of any physical or biological agency. 
He insisted with equal positiveness that the so-called vital force cannot 
be the product of any mechanical or chemical activity, single or in com- 
bination, but must be a directive and ( oustructive agent of itself. Later 
in life lie recognized the manifold indications of the presence of a law 
of progressive variation in the history of animal and vegetable life, and 
so far accepted evolution as a working hypothesis. But had ho been 
asked at any time whether evolution as a force or evolution as a law, 
one or both, apart or together, could explain the origin of life and of 
living men, of intellect and will and the capacity for science and faith 
in science, I think he would have regarded the question somewhat as REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
25 
though lie had been asked whether he believed in tbe vortices of Des- 
cartes or in Kepler’s directing angels. Had this doctrine been defended 
in a scientific association, either in the soaring gyrations of winged 
speech or the dry assertions of dogmatic positiveness, I am confident 
he would have remanded its champions at ODce to the blackboard, and 
have begged them first to explain whether evolution wtre an agent, a 
force, or a law, and then desired them to identify it if it were an agent, 
to defiue it if it were a force, or to formulate it if it were a law. 
Large as was the sphere which he assigned to the imagination, and 
important as the role which he allowed to hypotheses, he would bring 
every theory, however brilliant and plausible, to the triple test of co- 
herence, sufficiency, and experiment. 
Forward and hopeful as he had been all his life long to follow the 
fruitful suggestions of analogy, he never would allow this winged steed 
to cross the chasms of scientific theory with any flying leaps, without 
insisting that it should first fold and pack its pinions, and then carefully 
retrace its steps along that hard pathway of fact and law which alone 
can carry us safely from a scientific hypothesis to a scientific truth. 
The science of America owes somewhat to his example and authority in 
this regard, that its brilliant promises and solid achievements have 
been so far kept free from the speculative audacities and the physio- 
logical cosmogonies from which the science of England and Germany 
has not been wholly exempt. 
This, be it observed, was his position within the domains of pure 
science. For the region beyond, whether it is called the domain of 
philosophy or the domain of faith, let it suffice to say that he had too 
positive a respect for his own mind to doubt for an instant that this intel- 
lect was the reflex of that supreme intellect which sustains and controls 
the universe which the scientist interprets. The existence of a per- 
sonal God was accepted by him as a well nigh self-evident truth which 
is as necessary to our confidence in scientific study as to our hopes for 
man’s social and moral well being. The moral and spiritual capacities 
and destiny of man were regarded by him as dominant facts and chief 
ends in the universe made up of matter and spirit, facts and ends so 
important and so pressing as to create the need and establish the truth 
of the Christian’s faith and hope. He believed moreover in no inherent 
law of progress in human nature or human society as such. On the 
contrary he asserted often that our supreme hope of such progress, even 
in scientific culture and achievement, must rest on moral integrity and 26 
REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
culture as the supreme conditions. In his closing address to the Na- 
tional Academy he urged “ that moral integrity is essential to conscien- 
tious fidelity in scientific research,” and added, “Indeed, I think that 
immorality and great mental power exercised in the discovery of scien-' 
title truths are incompatible with each other; and that more error is 
introduced from defect in moral sense than from want of intellectual 
capacity.” To the Philosophical Society of Washington he had designed 
to give, as probably his last formal communication, an address upon the 
relations of science and religion, and also upon the true import of prayer. 
This he was not permitted to do, but those who knew him best knew most 
fully that in prayer he found constant delight and strength. Almost 
the last lines which he penned contain a positive and tender yet ra- 
tional confession of his Christian faith. Almost the last words which 
he uttered were with tearful eyes and from quivering lips, “Upon Jesus 
Christ as the one who, for God, affiliates himself with man—upon Him 
I rest my faith and my hope.” 
Such a man was Joseph Henry. With eminent truth may we say of 
him, as Wordsworth wrote of Milton : 
Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart; 
Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea, 
Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free; 
So didst thou travel ou life’s common way, 
In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart 
The lowliest duties on itself did lay. 
For more than fifty years, the most memorable and critical which the 
sciences of nature have ever seen, he has been indeed a guiding star to 
their devotees in all this land, ever shining with a severe yet command- 
ing light. During the critical years of its young and buoyant life, 
American science has found much of the guidance and inspiration which 
it needed in his childlike yet kingly spirit. And now as it rejoices in 
the security of its position and its ever-increasing honors, it is most fit- 
ting that its assembled representatives should here gratefully acknowl- 
edge their obligations to their eminent benefactor and distinguished 
leader, and cordially welcome this statne, which by its commanding pro- 
portions gives new dignity to the ground so long honored by his pres- 
ence and associated with his name. Long may it stand to express to 
them and to other generations the sturdy self-confidence, the keen in- 
sight, the benignant spirit, the soaring yet docile genius, the self-rely- 
ing yet devout temper which made Joseph Henry a leader and com- 
mander in their conquering hosts. And as here by day and by night, REPORT ON THE HENRY STATUE. 
27 
in sunshine and in storm, our honored friend shall ever as in his life- 
time keep watch and guard over the sceue of his cares and labors, of 
his conflicts and triumphs, so may his memory be kept in fresh and 
grateful recollection by the coming generations. And as this Institu- 
tion, so eminently the creation of his mind, shall become more and more 
busy in its activities and more and more conspicuous in its usefulness 
and its fame, may the spirit of its eminent originator continue to inspire 
its aims and direct its counsels—to the strength and glory of this nation 
and the well-being of man. 
To the well-being of man. For let us never forget that science knows 
no nationality, least of all in this place and in this Institution, which 
was the gift from the mother to the daughter land, whose sacred trust 
and solemn duty has ever been, as it ever should be, to promote “ the 
increase and diffusion of knowledge among men.'1'