Alumni Oration

"Alumni Oration" University Monthly 39, 7 (May 1920): 199-208. (UA Case 67a, Box 1)

Delivered by Dr. A. W. Duff, Gilchrist scholar at U.N.B. of the graduating class of 1884, formerly Professor of Physics at U.N.B.; and now Professor at the Polytechnic Institute, Worcester, Mass.

When asked by the Alumni Society to speak as its representative at the exercises of today, I hesitated at first, because after many years of absence from Canada I could not feel that I had any close acquaintance with matters peculiar to this province or to Canada at large. But after the great world struggle, in which Canada took such a gallant part, we have come to realize that there are many problems of pressing importance common to men everywhere; and so, having accepted, I felt inclined to speak on some of these wider issues, and especially to emphasize the value of that fuller understanding of each other's motives that has come to the English-speaking nations and the supreme importance to the whole world of preserving this good will. But there are topics more suited to a different occasion. If there is any grain of wisdom that a man has to offer to the youth of the next generation on an occasion like this, it is most likely to come from the fruits of his own most familiar experience. I propose, therefore, to speak to you on what may seem a somewhat limited theme, The Motives of Scientific Work; but I hope to be able to show you that conclusions drawn from this narrower field have an application of some value to all forms of intellectual work, and even to work of any kind.

I hope you will not think me guilty of levity in the treatment of a serious theme if I put the matter in a way that would, after all, have appealed to Socrates in his search after human motives. A distinguished astronomer who is something of a humorist as well as a philosopher, is in the habit of asking his fellow-workers "If you were cast away on a remote island from which you could never hope to escape, and if you found there a fully equipped observatory and library, would you go to work at astronomy or not?" Now it is true that no such scientific Robinson Crusoe is likely ever to exist and a man can never be certain what he would do in very improbable circumstances. Yet, since the question is a somewhat novel and striking variant of the more general and more vague inquiry, "Why do some men, who might be otherwise engaged, pursue research?" it is not without interest, considering the extent to which the world has depended for its progress on scientific discoveries. But how can an adequate answer to such a question be obtained? You would not, I believe, be satisfied with a personal answer from any but one of the great investigators who have given a new impetus or direction to the progress of discovery of Nature's secrets. Of these (I speak only of physicists), there are perhaps not more than half a dozen among our contemporaries. Not having them here as witnesses I propose to offer other evidence which, I believe, is both positive and pertinent. The lives of many of the great of the past, who were perhaps only dimly aware of their own motives, tell us in no uncertain way of the spirit that animated them. If the few facts which I shall narrate are familiar to many of you, I can only plead, in the words of Carlyle, that "Great men, taken in any way, are profitable company. We cannot look, however imperfectly, upon a great man without gaining something from him. On any terms whatever you will not grudge to wander in such neighborhood for a while."

Isaac Newton

Highest in the roll of physicists stands the name of Isaac Newton. His popular fame rests on his discovery of the law of gravitation; but, to the physicist, he is the great master of the science, who laid broad and deep most of the foundation on which the immense structure of Physical Science has been erected. It is no exaggeration to say that his discoveries in Physics, if divided among half a dozen other men, would endow them with immortal names in the history of science. But Newton was not only the greatest of physicists; he was also one of the greatest of pure mathematicians. In a very real sense it may be said that nearly all mathematics and most modern engineering are founded on that bugbear of the non-mathematical among college students, the Differential and Integral Calculus, of which Newton and Leibnitz were independent discoverers. The details of the process by which Newton made his great discoveries, and the well-nigh increditable mental activity which they implied, would be out of place here. That he was a man of practical sagacity is shown by the fact that he was Master of the Royal Mint and a member of Parliament who took his duties seriously. He was also very active in the administration of Cambridge University and devoted much time to non-scientific subjects, especially Theology, on which he wrote several works; he even quaintly expressed the hope that his Commentary on the Book of Revelations would live, even if his scientific work should prove to be unimportant.

Accomplishments in Science

Turning now to the question of how Newton was able to accomplish so much in science, we may note first the extraordinary power of mental concentration which he possessed. He even expressed the opinion that this was the only exceptional talent which he possessed. At times, in his immersion in profound reasoning and calculation, he became quite oblivious of time and space and even omitted his ordinary meals without being in the least aware of it. It is said on his own authority that on one occasion he passed five days without sleep, but it is probable that an abnormal physical condition had something to do with the circumstance. Now it is evident that such concentration on one subject could come only from the profound satisfaction which the occupation afforded. Indeed, nothing can be more evident than that Newton's chief impulse in his scientific work was the pleasure to be derived from the game he played with Nature to wrest her secrets from her. The thought of any material profit from the occupation, or even any desire of the fame of accomplishment, must have been a distraction that would have made such absolute concentration an impossibility. If there is any doubt about this, it is settled by an incident that took place early in Newton's career. When he had published the first installment of his great work on Optics, he became involved in a dispute with Lucas, a mathematical professor at Liege. After conducting the controversy for some time with great patience and courtesy, he wrote to a friend: "I see I have made myself a slave to Philosophy, but if I get free of Mr. Lucas' business I will resolutely bid adieu to it eternally, excepting what I do for my own private satisfaction or leave to come out after me; for I see that a man must resolve to put out nothing new, or to become a slave to defend it. * * * * Philosophy is such an impertinently litigious lady that a man has as good be engaged in lawsuits as have to do with her." Luckily, he persuaded to break this resolution. Newton was the greatest physicist of the 17th century.

Henry Cavendish

Let us turn now to his most eminent successor in the 18th century. With one possible exception, probably no physicist ever lived so completely for the pleasure of research as Henry Cavendish. Brother of a Duke of Devonshire and, by virtue of fortunes bequeathed to him, possibly the wealthiest man of his time, in his three London houses Cavendish lived, with slight exceptions, the life of a hermit. Every Thursday he dined with his fellow-members of the Royal Society. His dinners on other days were ordered by a note placed on his hall table and his servants were directed to keep out of his sight on pain of dismissal. The only relative he saw was his nephew and heir, and him he only saw for a few minutes once a year. About once a year also his tailor visited him by appointment, when his services had become indispensible. The only evidence that Cavendish was not a complete sybarite of science is the fact that, at regular hours on certain days, he attended at one of his houses, where he kept his books, to lend them to anyone who could use them intelligently. Some of his investigations were communicated by Cavendish to the Royal Society and these easily gained him the reputation of being one of the greatest living scientists, but the most of his discoveries were completely described in documents which were sealed and filed away in his study and were not published until nearly a hundred years later, when it was found that he had anticipated m any of the important discoveries made later by Michael Faraday, William Black and others. When we contemplate the life, possessions and position of this singular man of genius, we must admit that the keen pleasure he derived from research was almost the single impelling motive in his life, while there is no evidence that he was constitutionally lacking in any of the ordinary capacities for pleasure.

Leaders of Physics

Among the leaders of physics in the 19th century I choose William Thomson, Lord Kelvin, as a representative. Any of his great contemporaries—Faraday, Maxwell or Helmholtz would serve my purpose equally well, but Kelvin's life is a singularly agreeable one to contemplate. While popularly known as the creator of the Atlantic cable, in the extraordinary range of his work he recalls and even excelled Newton; for since Newton’s time a new and very important branch, that of Electric Currents, has been added to physics by the discoveries of Volta and Faraday. In fact, the range of physics has now become so wide that it is improbable that Newton and Kelvin will have a successor to bestride the science as a Colossus. It would be difficult to think of any respect in which Kelvin's life would not be considered successful. His discoveries in physics brought him such reverence from fellow physicists and the general public that wherever he went in his numerous journeys in Europe and in America, which he visited several times (as he was chairman of the commission to utilize Niagara), his reception was that of a prince of science. His practical sagacity as well as his scientific knowledge and singular tact led to his appointment as chairman or member of numerous commissions for the improvement of conditions in England. As a by-product of his purely scientific activity Kelvin acquired great wealth from royalties on scores of instruments of the most intensely practical nature. Finally, that nothing should be lacking to the outward success of such a career, he was raised to that most coveted of social positions, membership in the House of Lords, though it is amusing to note that it led to a foreigner writing in England to ask who was this Kelvin who was claiming to have invented all of Sir William Thomson's instruments. Kelvin's success as a scientist was only equalled by his gentleness, courtesy and humor (and these the present speaker has some cause to remember, as he worked for a time where Kelvin was a frequent visitor) and in consequence he possessed a host of warm friends in all ranks of society. Hence it will be admitted that Kelvin's life was nearly one of perfect success. If we now inquire what was the motive of his immense activity, we must admit that he enjoyed the fame and glory that came to him, that he did not despise any of the good things of life, and further, that in the work for the good of his fellows a strong sense of duty played an important part; but the excitement, glee and humor that permeate his prodigious scientific correspondence show that it was the game of research that filled him with the deepest delight. If landed by shipwreck on the astronomer's island, Kelvin would probably have at once have taken out his little green note book and added some notes that had just occurred to him on his most recent investigation, as he was accustomed absent-mindedly to do among his guests on his own yacht.

Physical Chemistry

No greater contrast to Kelvin's career could be found than that of, the greatest of American physicists, Willard Gibbs of New Haven. The details of his life need not detain us long. Gibbs lived and died an obscure professor of physics on a small salary in Yale University. In fact, for the first ten years of his professorship he received no salary whatever. He did not attend scientific meetings or discuss the work he had in hand with fellow workers. He published the greatest of his works as obscurely as possible in the proceedings of the Connecticut Academy of Sciences. But, even so, it was discovered after many years by two of the greatest of his contemporaries, Clerk Maxwell in England and Boltzmann in Vienna. Later the papers were translated into German and French, but Gibbs never republished them, and until his works were published after his death, they were read in German and French by Gibbs' fellow countrymen. If I say they were on the Phase Rule I shall convey no meaning to anyone but a physicist or a chemist, but I may add that they form the theoretical groundwork of the great modern branch of physics and chemistry called physical chemistry and are being applied daily to the most important practical investigations in metallurgy and applied chemistry. Near the end of his life Gibbs published a book of great originality on Statistical Mechanics, the value of which was not recognized until later, and again it was the product of prolonged study of which, I believe, no one was aware. I can quote no words of Gibbs to show the motive of his life-long study of the most difficult problems of science, but when we consider the absolute lack of ostentation, ambition or desire of reward of any kind that his life and method of working reveal, it must be evident that the pure pleasure of such work was the source of his inspiration. Indeed, it is not clear but that any man of not uncommon ability might accomplish as great results, if working with similar serenity of concentration in the field that interests him most. Life on the astronomer's island would have had some compensations for Gibbs.

Newcomb’s Astronomy

Of a different type and temperament was Simon Newcomb. Born in Nova Scotia and resident, I believe, for a time in New Brunswick, he went at an early age to the United States and ultimately became the greatest astronomer of his day. It is a curious fact that astronomy is the only branch of pure sciences in which America leads the world and it is, on the whole, the one least capable of practical application, a point that worthy of consideration by those who think that the conditions of life on this continent are hostile to idealism. No one who ever saw Newcomb could doubt that behind the glare of his eyes and the singular intentness of attitude of his burly figure lay a character of uncommon strength and intensity of purpose or that he would have been found in the front line of almost any profession that he might have chosen. James Bryce said that if Newcomb had turned his attention to business he would have amassed a great fortune. Yet he remained content through life with a professorship of mathematics in the navy, devoting his spare time to astronomy and physics. Of his career in general this is not the place to speak, but it may be of interest to quote his own somewhat rhetorical account of his aims and motives. "To this work," he said on one occasion, speaking of Celestial Mechanics, "I was especially attracted because its preparation seemed to embody the highest intellectual power to which man has ever attained. The matter used to present itself to me somewhat in this way. Supply any man with the fundamental data of astronomy, the time at which the stars and planets come to the meridian of a place, and other matters of this kind. He is informed that each of these bodies whose observation he is to use is attracted to all the others with a force that varies as the inverse square of their distance apart. From these data he has to weigh the bodies, predict their motions in all future time, compute their orbits, determine what changes of form and position these orbits will undergo through thousands of ages, and make maps showing exactly over what cities and towns on the surface of the earth an eclipse of the sun will pass fifty years hence, or over what regions it did pass thousands of years ago. A more hopeless problem than this could not be presented to the ordinary humane intellect. There are tens of thousands of men who could be successful in the ordinary walks of life, thousands who could gain wealth, hundreds who could wield empires for one who could take up this astronomical problem with any hope of success. The men who have done it are therefore among the select few of the human race, an aristocracy ranking above all others in the scale of being. The astronomical ephemeris is the last practical outcome of their productive genius.

Newcomb was certainly not an unduly modest man, as this rather arrogant statement shows, but it is evident that if any other motive than the pleasure of productive scientific work animated him, it was the closely allied pride in an almost superhuman achievement.

Here, however, I must guard myself against being misunderstood. Men act, even in the simplest of matters, from a mixtures of motives. I have not intended to suggest that even a Cavendish or a Gibbs is a man of but one motive even in his scientific work. I have merely emphasized what I believe to be the chief of many motives that play their part in scientific research. Something must also be attributed to an aspect of the social sense, if I may so call it, the feeling that one is taking part in the march of an army of workers the world over and is, through correspondence, publication of scientific meetings, holding converse with his fellow workers everywhere. Man is a thinking being and delights in the exchange of thought. The publication of a piece of research is also a source of pleasure as marking a more or less definite completion of an undertaking. The sense of a duty one owes to the world and the duty of making the best of his own gifts play their part and help to produce that mental serenity without which the highest intellectual achievement seems impossible. Yet, after making all due allowance for these other motives, one does not get far away from the element of elevated enjoyment as the chief motive in scientific work

But while you may be inclined to grant all this as regards the generals and captains of the research army, you may very property ask whether it applies to the much larger number of those in the ranks who plan no great scientific campaign and expect considerable acquaintance with the no nich in the temple of Fame. A sappers and miners in science leads me to believe that, while some of those who enter on research are animated largely by the desire of promotion or reputation, yet their persistance and success in such work depends chiefly on the immediate satisfaction which it affords, and the value of the contributions they make to the advance of knowledge are pretty strictly in proportion to the pleasure they derive from the process. Purely scientific research is, in fact, an exercise of the active imagination, controlled and directed by the reason, and the chief rewords of such work are in the work itself.

Practical Applications

One motive, however, which is sometimes popularly thought to be the chief motive in Science, must be nearly entirely excluded. Few if any great discoveries have been made by men who had in mind some immediate practical application of the discovery. The practical applications of a fundamental discovery in Science are usually found by a later generation. Faraday's discovery of induced currents of electricity preceded by half a century the beginners of Electrical Engineering which is founded wholly on that discovery. Maxwell, who predicted electromagnetic waves, and Hertz, who realized them, did not live to see the success of wireless telegraphy. In fact, while the discoveries of science, pure and applied, are in a very real sense the only additions that are, from time to time, made to the permanent wealth of the world, it cannot even be claimed by the most enthusiastic followers of Science that the immediate applications of its discoveries are always of a beneficial nature. I do not know that anyone has ever misused the law of gravitation, unless it be the airplane bomber, at least to the man at the wrong end of the gun, and improved methods of working in steel make more deadly cannon as well as safer bridges. The telegraph and telephone, following the fast mail train, have probably been the prime factors in making it possible for men to form these great combinations, whether of labor or of capital, which have proved so disturbing to modern life, that many have thought we must try to abolish them and return to earlier conditions. Many physical processes are known to be essentially irreversible, and it would seem probable that the reversal of economical changes founded on scientific discoveries is not a hopeful undertaking. For the comfort of those who fear that the world is travelling in a direction that may stifle individual responsibility and initiative, I may add that there is no evidence yet of any such calamity as regards the activity of the scientist. If I am right as to the main motive of research and the test of the ultimate value of scientific activity, no serious failure of incentive is to be feared from any changes of social or political organization.

Nor is there, I believe, any need to limit such statements to the scientist. Those who speak with authority on Art, Music, and Literature, tell us in no unhesitating way that the great artist like the great scientist, is moved chiefly by the fascination of the work, and the lesser artist produces work of intrinsic value in proportion to the zest the work has for him. Whether the same can be said of all whose work is with the mind is too wide a question, but it would seem probable that in the case of a great captain of industry or a great financier it is the game and not the gain that is the chief spur. How much the efficiency of intellectual work might be increased by Bureaus of experts in practical psychology to advise young men in the choice of profession it would be difficult to say. There is, I believe, much done in this direction. As one who spends his time in helping men to prepare for their life's work, I am inclined to think that the choice of a profession is far too haphazard a process and that only minority have the luck to find the work that should most appeal their temperaments. Newton narrowly escaped being a farmer and several eminent English physicists have been professionally lawyers and clergymen. One of the greatest was a brewer.

Creative Science A Pleasure

Here, however, I must leave the subject of the motives of creative science or creative art. But in these remarks I have not been speaking without a proper regard for the purpose of our meeting today. The young men and women who are now graduating will go into various occupations in which their training here will have in some degree fitted them. That all of them may lead successful and happy lives is, I am sure, the earnest wish of all who have gathered here to speed them on their journey. As a slight contribution to that success I will offer but two suggestions. Success in any line of work is largely in proportion to the pleasure derived from the activity. It is true that to all of us many parts of our work are less interesting than other parts. But I have no hesitation in saying that there is no intellectual occupation, no matter how commonplace, that cannot be turned into a source of pleasure by doing it well. Thus the man who does whatever lies before him with resolute zest and faithfulness can come to derive such a degree of pleasure from it that this enjoyment will form an incentive for further effort. One of the most regrettable failures in life is that of the man who dissipates large natural abilities in pursuing such a variety of different objects, many more or less frivolous, that he does nothing thoroughly and thereby loses all the zest of positive achievement, while the most marked success is often attained by men who do a few things so thoroughly that work becomes a continual pleasure and a continual incentive to further effort.

Personal Success Not All

But I would be leaving the members of the graduating class with a wrong impression, if I have seemed to suggest that personal success of a material kind is the only, or the principal, object of life. Every man must aim at a livelihood that will release him from sordid anxiety, but this after all is but a means to some end. I shall not attempt now to consider the question of what that end should be, but I may add one reflection drawn from our most recent experiences. The world has in the past tried many devices for government, kingships, autocracies, ruling classes, and no one should belittle the aid that these have tendered in enabling men to act in concert. But, for better or worse, authority has passed into the hands of the average man, and, whatever the machinery of government, public opinion is the power behind it. We have recently seen the calamity that can come to the world from leaving the formation of public opinion in the hands of a selfish military class. It should be the duty of intelligent men everywhere to form dispassionate judgments on public questions, free from national jealousies, free from class suspicions, and as free from personal ambitions as imperfect human nature will permit.

The education of youth is the nurture of the soul of the race. The lack of higher education does not threaten the individual with starvation of the body, but the community which does not provide for a liberal degree of higher education risks the decay of the spirit of humanity and progress in its midst. When there is no vision the people perish and education is the development of that spiritual and intellectual vision without which m an, with all his splendid endowment of latent powers, has no higher collective aim than to exist for his brief day and pass away like the beasts that perish.

This institution of learning had its first beginnings one hundred and thirty-five years ago. Founded by those who founded the province and at nearly the same time, it has, in its successive forms of Academy, College, and University, served the Province faithfully as a beacon light of learning on a hill. Those who have gone out from its halls have (in the words of a Latin poet) served as runners in the race to hand on the torch of life. Distinguished graduates like the present Chief Justice have served the province in its higher offices. Many others have helped to direct the educational development of the province as superintendents and teachers in its schools. Legislators, clergymen, lawyers and many in other walks of life have led in the formation of public opinion. From a close acquaintance with a wide range of colleges and universities in several countries I have no hesitation in saying that no institution known to me anywhere has done more in proportion to its resources to advance the higher interests of the community which it serves. I believe that no agency in the province better deserves increased support from public funds or from public spirited citizens and in no way could a wise generosity do more for the public good.