subjects than others. Upon the whole, it is practically impossible for any serious question regarding academic freedom to arise in the sphere of mathematics, astronomy, physics, or chemistry. Each of these subjects has now its definite established technique, and its own sphere within which it is supreme. This is so as fact; and it is generally so recognized by all persons of influence in the community. Consequently, there is no leverage from which to direct an attack upon academic freedom in any of these subjects. Such, of course, was not the case a few centuries ago. We know the storm that raged about astronomy. We know that it is only thru great trial and tribulation that the sciences have worked out such a definite body of truth and such definite instrumentalities of inquiry and verification as to give them a position assured from attack.

The biological sciences are clearly in a transitional state. The conception of evolution is a test case. It is safe to say that no university worthy of the name would put any limitation upon instruction in this theory, or upon its use as an agency of research and classification. Very little sympathy could be secured for an attack upon a university for encouraging the use of this theory. Many of the smaller colleges, however, would be shaken to their foundations by anything that seemed like a public avowal of belief in this doctrine. These facts would seem to mean that the more influential sections of the community upon which the universities properly depend have adjusted themselves to the fact that biology is a science which must be the judge of its own methods of work; that its facts and tests of fact are to be sought within its own scientific operations, and not in any extraneous sources. There are still, however, large portions of society which have not come to recognize that biology is an established science, and which, therefore, cannot concede to it the right to determine belief in regions that conflict with received opinions, and with the emotions that cluster about them.

There is another group of sciences which, from the standpoint of definitive method and a clearly accepted body of verified fact, are more remote from a scientific status. I refer

especially to the social and psychological disciplines, and to some phases of linguistic and historical study-those most intimately associated with religious history and literature. Moreover, the public recognition of the scientific status attained lags behind the fact. As compared with mathematics or physics we can employ the term "science" only in a tentative and somewhat prophetic sense the aspirations, the tendencies, the movement are scientific. But to the public at large the facts and relations with which these topics deal are still almost wholly in the region of opinion, prejudice, and accepted tradition. It has hardly dawned upon the community as a whole that science really has anything to say upon matters in the social and psychological sphere. The general public may be willing enough to admit in the abstract the existence of a science of political economy, sociology, or psychology, but when these dare to emerge from a remote and technical sphere, and pass authoritative judgment upon affairs of daily life,when they come in contact, that is, with the interests of daily life, they meet with little but skepticism or hostility or, what is worse, sensational exploitation.

It is out of these two facts-the backwardness of some of our sciences and failure of the general public to recognize even the amount of advance actually made that the concrete problems of academic freedom arise. The case may be stated as follows: On behalf of academic freedom it may be urged that the only way in which the more backward subjects can possibly reach anything like the status of mathematics and mechanics is by encouraging to the utmost freedom of investigation, and the publication, oral and printed, of the results of inquiry. It may be urged that the very failure on the part of the public to recognize rightful jurisdiction for scientific methods and results is only the more reason for unusual frankness and fullness of expression. Because the public is so behind the scientific times, it must be brought up. The points of contact, it may be urged, between the social and moral sciences and social needs, are even more numerous and more urgent than in the case of the mathematical and physical sciences. The latter have secured

their independence thru a certain abstractness, a certain remoteness from matters of social concern. Political economy, sociology, historical interpretation, psychology in its various possible applications, deal face to face with problems of life, not with problems of technical theory. Hence the right and duty of academic freedom are even greater here than elsewhere.

Per contra, it may be pointed out that, in so far as these subjects have not reached a scientific status, an expression of opinion on the part of a university instructor remains after all nothing but an expression of opinion, and hardly entitled to any more weight than that of any other reasonably intelligent person. It, however, is almost certain to be regarded as an official judgment. It thus commits and possibly compromises the institution to which the instructor belongs. The sphere of ideas which has not yet come under recognized scientific control is, moreover, precisely that which is bound up most closely with deep-rooted prejudice and intense emotional reaction. These, in turn, exist because of habits and modes of life to which the people have accustomed themselves. To attack them is to appear to be hostile to institutions with which the worth of life is bound up.

John Stuart Mill, with characteristic insight, somewhere points out that the German easily tolerates and welcomes all kinds of new ideas and new speculations because they exist in a region apart; they do not affect, excepting indirectly, the practical conduct of life. With the Englishman it is different. He is instinctively uneasy in the presence of a new idea; the wider the scope of the idea, the more readily uneasiness turns to suspicion and hostility. He recognizes that to accept the new idea means a change in the institutions of life. The idea is too serious a matter to be trifled with. The American has certainly inherited enough of the Englishman's sense for the connection of theory and practice to be conservative in the matter of the public broaching (and under modern conditions even classroom discussion is quasi-public) of ideas which lie much beyond the bounds of the domain publicly allotted to science.

Wherever scientific method is only partially attained the danger of undue dogmatism and of partisanship is very great. It is possible to consecrate ideas born of sheer partisanship with the halo of scientifically established belief. It is possible to state what is currently recognized to be scientific truth in such a way as to violate the most sacred beliefs of a large number of our fellow-men. The manner of conveying the truth may cause an irritation quite foreign to its own substance. This is quite likely to be the case whenever the negative rather than the positive aspect is dwelt upon; wherever the discrepancy between the new truth and established institutions is emphasized, rather than the intrinsic significance of the new conception. The outcome is disintegrating instead of constructive; and the methods inevitably breed distrust and antagonism.

One might, for example, be scientifically convinced of the transitional character of the existing capitalistic control of industrial affairs and its reflected influences upon political life; one might be convinced that many and grave evils and injustices are incident to it, and yet never raise the question of academic freedom, altho developing his views with definiteness and explicitness. He might go at the problem in such an objective, historic, and constructive manner as not to excite the prejudices or inflame the passions even of those who thoroly disagreed with him. On the other hand, views at the bottom exactly the same can be stated in such a way as to rasp the feelings of everyone exercising the capitalistic function. What will stand or fall upon its own scientific merits, if presented as a case of objective social evolution, is mixed up with all sorts of extraneous and passion-inflaming factors when set forth as the outcome of the conscious and aggressive selfishness of a class.

As a result of such influences the problem of academic freedom becomes to a very large extent a personal matter. I mean that it is a matter of the scholarship, judgment, and sympathy of the individual in dealing with matters either only just coming within the range of strict scientific treatment, or, even if fairly annexed to the scientific domain, not yet recognized by contemporary public opinion as belonging there. All

sorts of difficulties arise when we attempt to lay down any rules for, or pass any judgment upon, the personal aspects of the matter. Such rules are likely to be innocuous truisms. We can insist upon one hand that the individual must be loyal to truth, and that he must have the courage of his convictions; that he must not permit their presumed unpopularity, the possibly unfavorable reaction of their free expression upon his own career, to swerve him from his singleness of devotion to truth. We may dwell upon the dangers of moral cowardice and of turning traitor to the cause in which every scholar is enlisted. We may indicate the necessity of the use of common sense in the expression of views on controverted points, especially points entering into the arena of current religious and political discussion. We may insist that a man needs tact as well as scholarship; or, let us say, sympathy with human interestssince " tact" suggests perhaps too much a kind of juggling diplomacy with the questions at issue.

It is possible to confuse loyalty to truth with self-conceit in the assertion of personal opinion. It is possible to identify courage with bumptiousness. Lack of reverence for the things that mean much to humanity, joined with a craving for public notoriety, may induce a man to pose as a martyr to truth when in reality he is a victim of his own lack of mental and moral poise. President Harper, in a clear and comprehensive discussion in his Convocation Address of December, 1900,1 points out so clearly the sources of personal failure of this sort that I make no apology for quoting his words:

(1) A professor is guilty of an abuse of privilege who promulgates as truth ideas or opinions which have not been tested scientifically by his colleagues in the same department of research or investigation. (2) A professor abuses his privilege who takes advantage of a classroom exercise to progagate the partisan view of one or another of the political parties. (3) A professor abuses his privilege who in any way seeks to influence his pupils or the public by sensational methods. (4) A professor abuses his privilege of expression of opinion when, altho a student and perhaps an authority in one department or group of departments, he undertakes to speak authoritatively on subjects which have no relationship to the department in which he was appointed to give instruction. (5) A professor abuses his privilege in many cases when, altho shut off in large measure

1 See University record, 5 377.