Chapter IV: Part 4

But where the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ shows its utter inadequacy as a guide to modern music is in the long list of omission. For instance, there is no biography of Marschner, whose _Hans Heiling_ still survives in Germany; of Friedrich Silcher, who wrote most of the famous German “folk-songs”; of Gustav Mahler, one of the truly important symphonists of modern times; of the Scharwenka brothers; or of Georg Alfred Schumann—all sufficiently important to have a place in an encyclopædia like the _Britannica_.

But—what is even more inexcusable—Max Reger, one of the most famous German composers of the day, has no biography. Nor has Eugen d’Albert, renowned for both his chamber music and operas. (D’Albert repudiated his English antecedents and settled in Germany.) Kreisler also is omitted, although Kubelik, five years Kreisler’s junior, draws a biography. In view of the obvious contempt which the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ has for America, it may be noted in this connection that Kreisler’s first great success was achieved in America, whereas Kubelik made his success in London before coming to this country.

Among the German and Austrian composers who are without biographical mention in the _Britannica_, are several of the most significant musical creators of modern times—men who are world figures and whose music is known on every concert stage in the civilized world. On what possible grounds are Mahler, Reger and Eugen d’Albert denied biographies in an encyclopædia which dares advertise itself as a “complete library of knowledge” and as an “international dictionary of biography”? And how is it possible for one to get any adequate idea of the wealth or importance of modern German music from so biased and incomplete a source? Would the Encyclopædia’s editors dare state that such a subject would not appeal to “intelligent” persons? And how will the Encyclopædia’s editors explain away the omission of Hanslick, the most influential musical critic that ever lived, when liberal biographies are given to several English critics?

Despite the incomplete and unjust treatment accorded German and Austrian music in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, modern French music receives scarcely better consideration. Chopin is given space only equal to that of Purcell. Berlioz and Gounod, who are allotted longer biographies than any other modern French composers, receive, nevertheless, considerably less space than Sir Arthur Sullivan. Saint-Saëns and Debussy receive less than half the space given to Sullivan, while Auber and César Franck are given only about equal space with Samuel Arnold, Balfe, Sterndale Bennett, and Charles Stanford! Massenet has less space than William Thomas Best or Joseph Barnby, and three-fourths of it is taken up with a list of his works. The remainder of the biographies are proportionately brief. There is not one of them of such length that you cannot find several longer biographies of much less important English composers.

Furthermore, one finds unexplainable errors and omissions in them. For instance, although Ernest Reyer died January 15, 1909, there is no mention of it in his biography; but there is, however, the statement that his _Quarante Ans de Musique_ “was published in 1909.” This careless oversight in not noting Reyer’s death while at the same time recording a still later biographical fact is without any excuse, especially as the death of Dudley Buck, who died much later than Reyer, is included. Furthermore, the biography omits stating that Reyer became Inspector General of the Paris Conservatoire in 1908. Nor is his full name given, nor the fact recorded that his correct name was Rey.

Again, although Théodore Dubois relinquished his Directorship of the Conservatory in 1905, his biography in the _Britannica_ merely mentions that he began his Directorship in 1896, showing that apparently no effort was made to complete the material. Still again, although Fauré was made Director of the Conservatory in 1905, the fact is not set down in his biography. And once more, although d’Indy visited America in 1905 and conducted the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the fact is omitted from his biography.... These are only a few of the many indications to be found throughout the _Britannica_ that this encyclopædia is untrustworthy and that its editors have not, as they claim, taken pains to bring it up to date.

Among the important French composers who should have biographies, but who are omitted from the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, are Guilmant, perhaps the greatest modern organist and an important classico-modern composer; Charpentier, who with Puccini, stands at the head of the modern realistic opera, and whose _Louise_ is to-day in every standard operatic repertoire; and Ravel, the elaborate harmonist of the moderns.

Even greater inadequacy—an inadequacy which could not be reconciled with an encyclopædia one-fourth the size of the _Britannica_—exists in the treatment of modern Russian music. So brief, so inept, so negligent is the material on this subject that, as a reference book, the _Britannica_ is practically worthless. The most charitable way of explaining this woeful deficiency is to attribute it to wanton carelessness. Anton Rubinstein, for instance, is given a biography about equal with Balfe and Charles Stanford; while his brother Nikolaus, one of the greatest pianists and music teachers of his day, and the founder of the Conservatorium of Music at Moscow, has no biography whatever! Glinka, one of the greatest of Russian composers and the founder of a new school of music, is dismissed with a biography no longer than those of John Braham, the English singer, John Hatton, the Liverpool genius with the “irresistible animal spirits,” and William Jackson; and shorter than that of Charles Dibdin, the British song-writer!

Tschaikowsky receives less than two columns, a little over half the space given to Sullivan. The criticism of his work is brief and inadequate, and in it there is no mention of his liberal use of folk-songs which form the basis of so many of his important compositions, such as the second movement of his Fourth and the first movement of his First Symphonies. Borodin, another of the important musical leaders of modern Russia, has a biography which is no longer than that of Frederic Clay, the English light-opera writer and whist expert; and which is considerably shorter than the biography of Alfred Cellier. Balakirev, the leader of the “New Russian” school, has even a shorter biography, shorter in fact than the biography of Henry Hugo Pierson, the weak English oratorio writer.

The biography of Moussorgsky—a composer whose importance needs no indication here—is only fifteen lines in length, shorter even than William Hawes’s, Henry Lazarus’s, George Elvey’s, or Henry Smart’s! And yet Moussorgsky was “one of the finest creative composers in the ranks of the modern Russian school.” Rimsky-Korsakov, another of the famous modern Russians, whose work has long been familiar both in England and America, draws less space than Michael Costa, the English conductor of Spanish origin, or than Joseph Barnby, the English composer-conductor of _Sweet and Low_ fame.

Glazunov is given a biography only equal in length to that of John Goss, the unimportant English writer of church music. And although the biography tells us that he became Professor of the St. Petersburg Conservatory in 1900, it fails to mention that he was made Director in 1908—a bit of inexcusable carelessness which, though of no great importance, reveals the slip-shod incompleteness of the _Britannica’s_ Eleventh Edition. Furthermore, many important works of Glazunov are not noted at all.

Here ends the _Encyclopædia’s_ record of modern Russian composers! César Cui, one of the very important modern Russians, has no biography whatever in this great English cultural work, although we find liberal accounts of such British composers as Turle, Walmisley, Potter, Richards (whose one bid to fame is having written _God Bless the Prince of Wales_) and George Alexander Lee, the song-writer whose great popular success was _Come Where the Aspens Quiver_. Nor will you find any biographical information of Arensky, another of the leading Russian composers of the new school; nor of Taneiev or Grechaninov—both of whom have acquired national and international fame. Even Scriabine, a significant Russian composer who has exploited new theories of scales and harmonies of far-reaching influence, is not considered of sufficient importance to be given a place (along with insignificant Englishmen like Lacy and Smart) in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_.

The most astonishing omission, however, is that of Rachmaninov. Next to omitting César Cui, the complete ignoring of so important and universally accepted a composer as Rachmaninov, whose symphonic poem, _The Island of the Dead_, is one of the greatest Russian works since Tschaikowsky, is the most indefensible of all. On what possible grounds can the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ defend its extravagant claims to completeness when the name of so significant and well-known a composer as Rachmaninov does not appear in the entire twenty-nine volumes?

In the list of the important modern Italian musicians included in the _Britannica_ one will seek in vain for information of Busoni, who has not only written much fine instrumental music, but who is held by many to be the greatest living virtuoso of the piano; or of Wolf-Ferrari, one of the important leaders of the new Italian school. And though Tosti, whose name is also omitted, is of slight significance, he is of far greater popular importance than several English song-writers who are accorded biographies.

Even Puccini, who has revolutionized the modern opera and who stands at the head of living operatic composers, is given only eleven lines of biography, less space than is given to George Alexander Lee or John Barnett, and only equal space with Lacy, the Irish actor with musical inclinations, and Walmisley, the anthem writer and organist at Trinity College. It is needless to say that no biography of eleven lines, even if written in shorthand, would be adequate as a source of information for such a composer as Puccini. The fact that he visited America in 1907 is not even mentioned, and although at that time he selected his theme for _The Girl of the Golden West_ and began work on it in 1908, you will have to go to some other work more “supreme” than the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ for this knowledge.

Leoncavallo’s biography is of the same brevity as Puccini’s; and the last work of his that is mentioned is dated 1904. His opera, _Songe d’Une Nuit d’Été_, his symphonic poem, _Serafita_, and his ballet, _La Vita d’Una Marionetta_—though all completed before 1908—are not recorded in this revised and up-to-date library of culture. Mascagni, apparently, is something of a favorite with the editors of the _Britannica_, for his biography runs to twenty-three lines, nearly as long as that of the English operatic composer, William Vincent Wallace, and of Alfred Cellier, the infra-Sullivan. But even with this great partiality shown him there is no record of his return from America to Italy in 1903 or of the honor of Commander of the Crown of Italy which was conferred upon him.

Of important Northern composers there are not many, but the _Britannica_ has succeeded in minimizing even their small importance. Gade has a biography only as long as Pierson’s; and Kjerulf, who did so much for Norwegian music, is given less space than William Hawes, with no critical indication of his importance. Even Grieg receives but a little more space than Charles Stanford or Sterndale Bennett! Nordraak, who was Grieg’s chief co-worker in the development of a national school of music, has no biography whatever. Nor has Sinding, whose fine orchestral and chamber music is heard everywhere. Not even Sibelius, whose very notable compositions brought Finland into musical prominence, is considered worthy of biographical mention.

But the most astonishing omission is that of Buxtehude, one of the great and important figures in the early development of music. Not only was he the greatest organist of his age, but he was a great teacher as well. He made Lübeck famous for its music, and established the “Abendmusiken” which Bach walked fifty miles to hear. To the _Britannica’s_ editor, however, he is of less importance than Henry Smart, the English organist!

In Dvorák’s biography we learn that English sympathy was entirely won by the _Stabat Mater_; but no special mention is made of his famous E-minor (American) Symphony. Smetana, the first great Bohemian musician, receives less space than Henry Bishop, who is remembered principally as the composer of _Home, Sweet Home_.

But when we pass over into Poland we find inadequacy and omissions of even graver character. Moszkowski receives just eight lines of biography, the same amount that is given to _God-Bless-the-Prince-of-Wales_ Richards. Paderewski is accorded equal space with the English pianist, Cipriani Potter; and no mention is made of his famous $10,000 fund for the best American compositions. This is a characteristic omission, however, for, as I have pointed out before, a composer’s activities in America are apparently considered too trivial to mention, whereas, if it is at all possible to connect England, even in a remote and far-fetched way, with the genius of the world, it is done. Josef Hofmann, the other noted Polish pianist, is too insignificant to be given even passing mention in the _Britannica_. But such an inclusion could hardly be expected of a reference work which contains no biography of Leschetizky, the greatest and most famous piano teacher the world has ever known.

We come now to the most prejudiced and inexcusably inadequate musical section in the whole _Britannica_—namely, to American composers. Again we find that narrow patronage, that provincial condescension and that contemptuous neglect which so conspicuously characterize the _Encyclopædia Britannica’s_ treatment of all American institutions and culture. We have already beheld how this neglect and contempt have worked against our painters, our novelists, our poets and our dramatists; we have seen what rank injustice has been dealt our artists and writers; we have reviewed the record of omissions contained in this Encyclopædia’s account of our intellectual activities. But in no other instance has British scorn allowed itself so extreme and indefensible an expression as in the peremptory manner in which our musical composers are dismissed. The negligence with which American musical compositions and composers are reviewed is greater than in the case of any other nation.

As I have said before, if the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ had been compiled to sell only in suburban England, we would have no complaint against the petty contempt shown our artists; but when an encyclopædia is put together largely for the purpose of American distribution, the sweeping neglect of our native creative effort resolves itself into an insult which every American should hotly resent. And especially should such neglect be resented when the advertising campaign with which the _Britannica_ was foisted upon the public claimed for that work an exalted supremacy as a library of international education, and definitely stated that it contained an adequate discussion of every subject which would appeal to intelligent persons. As I write this the _Britannica_ advertises itself as containing “an exhaustive account of all human achievement.” But I think I have shown with pretty fair conclusiveness that it does not contain anywhere near an exhaustive account of American achievement; and yet I doubt if even an Englishman would deny that we were “human.”

Let us see how “exhaustive” the _Britannica_ is in its record of American musical achievement. To begin with, there are just thirty-seven lines in the article on American composers; and for our other information we must depend on the biographies. But what do we find? Dudley Buck is given an incomplete biography of fourteen lines; and MacDowell draws thirty lines of inadequate data. Gottschalk, the most celebrated of American piano virtuosi, who toured Europe with great success and wrote much music which survives even to-day, is surely of enough historical importance to be given a biography; but his name does not so much as appear in the _Britannica_. John Knowles Paine has no biography; nor has William Mason; nor Arthur Foote; nor Chadwick; nor Edgar Stillman Kelly; nor Ethelbert Nevin; nor Charles Loeffler; nor Mrs. Beach; nor Henry K. Hadley; nor Cadman; nor Horatio Parker; nor Frederick Converse.

To be sure, these composers do not rank among the great world figures; but they do stand for the highest achievement in American music, and it is quite probable that many “intelligent” Americans would be interested in knowing about them. In fact, from the standpoint of intelligent interest, they are of far more importance than many lesser English composers who are given biographies. And although Sousa has had the greatest popular success of any composer since Johann Strauss, you will hunt the _Britannica_ through in vain for even so much as a mention of him. And while I do not demand the inclusion of Victor Herbert, nevertheless if Alfred Cellier is given a place, Herbert, who is Cellier’s superior in the same field, should not be discriminated against simply because he is not an Englishman.

It will be seen that there is practically no record whatever of the makers of American music; and while, to the world at large, our musical accomplishments may not be of vital importance, yet to Americans themselves—even “intelligent” Americans (if the English will admit that such an adjective may occasionally be applied to us)—they are not only of importance but of significance. It is not as if second-rate and greatly inferior composers of Great Britain were omitted also; but when Ethelbert Nevin is given no biography while many lesser British composers are not only given biographies but praised as well, Americans have a complaint which the _Britannica’s_ exploiters (who chummily advertise themselves as “we Americans”) will find it difficult to meet.

VIII

SCIENCE

In the field of medicine and biology the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ reveals so narrow and obvious a partisanship that there has already been no little resentment on the part of American scientists. This country is surpassed by none in biological chemistry; and our fame in surgery and medical experimentation is world-wide. Among the ranks of our scientists stand men of such great importance and high achievement that no adequate history of biology or medicine could be written without giving vital consideration to them. Yet the _Britannica_ fails almost completely in revealing their significance. Many of our great experimenters—men who have made important original contributions to science and who have pushed forward the boundaries of human knowledge—receive no mention whatever; and many of our surgeons and physicians whose researches have marked epochs in the history of medicine meet with a similar fate. On the other hand you will find scores of biographies of comparatively little known and unimportant English scientists, some of whom have contributed nothing to medical and biological advancement.

It is not my intention to go into any great detail in this matter. I shall not attempt to make a complete list of the glaring omissions of our scientists or to set down anywhere near all of the lesser British scientists who are discussed liberally and _con amore_ in the _Britannica_. Such a record were unnecessary. But I shall indicate a sufficient number of discrepancies between the treatment of American scientists and the treatment of English scientists, to reveal the utter inadequacy of the _Britannica_ as a guide to the history and development of our science. If America did not stand so high in this field the Encyclopædia’s editors would have some basis on which to explain away their wanton discrimination against our scientific activities. But when, as I say, America stands foremost among the nations of the world in biological chemistry and also holds high rank in surgery and medicine, there can be no excuse for such wilful neglect, especially as minor British scientists are accorded liberal space and generous consideration.

First we shall set down those three earlier pathfinders in American medicine whose names do not so much as appear in the _Britannica’s_ Index:—John Morgan, who in 1765, published his _Discourse Upon the Institution of Medical Schools in America_, thus becoming the father of medical education in the United States; William Shippen, Jr., who aided John Morgan in founding our first medical school, the medical department of the University of Pennsylvania, and gave the first public lectures in obstetrics in this country, and who may be regarded as the father of American obstetrics; and Thomas Cadwalader, the first Philadelphian (at this time Philadelphia was the medical center of America) to teach anatomy by dissections, and the author of one of the best pamphlets on lead poisoning.

Among the somewhat later important American medical scientists who are denied any mention in the _Britannica_ are; John Conrad Otto, the first who described hemophilia (an abnormal tendency to bleeding); James Jackson, author of one of the first accounts of alcoholic neuritis; James Jackson, Jr., who left his mark in physical diagnosis; Elisha North, who as early as 1811 advocated the use of the clinical thermometer in his original description of cerebrospinal meningitis (the first book on the subject); John Ware, who wrote one of the chief accounts of delirium tremens; Jacob Bigelow, one of the very great names in American medicine, whose essay, _On Self-Limited Diseases_, according to Holmes, “did more than any other work or essay in our language to rescue the practice of medicine from the slavery to the drugging system which was a part of the inheritance of the profession”; W. W. Gerhard, who distinguished between typhoid and typhus; Daniel Drake, known as the greatest physician of the West, who as the result of thirty years of labor wrote the masterpiece, _Diseases of the Interior Valley of North America_; Caspar Wistar, who wrote the first American treatise on anatomy; and William Edmonds Horner, who discovered the tensor tarsi muscle, known as Horner’s muscle.... Not only are these men not accorded biographies in the “universal” and “complete” _Encyclopædia Britannica_, but their names do not appear!

The father of American surgery was Philip Syng Physick, who invented the tonsillotome and introduced various surgical operations; but you must look elsewhere than in the _Britannica_ for so much as a mention of him. And although the history of American surgery is especially glorious and includes such great names as: the Warrens; Wright Post; J. C. Nott, who excised the coccyx and was the first who suggested the mosquito theory of yellow fever; Henry J. Bigelow, the first to describe the Y-ligament; Samuel David Gross, one of the chief surgeons of the nineteenth century; Nicholas Senn, one of the masters of modern surgery; Harvey Cushing, perhaps the greatest brain surgeon in the world to-day; George Crile, whose revolutionary work in surgical shock was made long before the _Britannica_ went to press; and William S. Halsted, among the greatest surgeons of the world,—as I have said, although America has produced these important men, the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ ignores the fact entirely, and does not so much as record one of their names!

Were all the rest of American medical scientists given liberal consideration in the _Britannica_, it would not compensate for the above omissions. But these omissions are by no means all: they are merely the beginning. The chief names in modern operative gynecology are American. But of the nine men who are the leaders in this field, only one (Emmet) has a biography, and only one (McDowell) receives casual mention. Marion Sims who invented his speculum and introduced the operation for vesicovaginal fistula, Nathan Bozeman, J. C. Nott (previously mentioned), Theodore Gaillard Thomas, Robert Battey, E. C. Dudley, and Howard A. Kelly do not exist for the _Britannica_.

Furthermore, of the four chief pioneers in anæsthesia—the practical discovery and use of which was an American achievement—only two are mentioned. The other two—C. W. Long, of Georgia, and the chemist, Charles T. Jackson—are apparently unknown to the British editors of this encyclopædia. And although in the history of pediatrics there is no more memorable name than that of Joseph O’Dwyer, of Ohio, whose work in intubation has saved countless numbers of infants, you will fail to find any reference to him in this “unbiased” English reference work.

One must not imagine that even here ends the _Britannica’s_ almost unbelievable injustice to American scientists. John J. Abel is not mentioned either, yet Professor Abel is among the greatest pharmacologists of the world. His researches in animal tissues and fluids have definitely set forward the science of medicine; and it was Abel who, besides his great work with the artificial kidney, first discovered the uses of epinephrin. R. G. Harrison, one of the greatest biologists of history, whose researches in the growth of tissue were epoch-making, and on whose investigations other scientists also have made international reputations, is omitted entirely from the _Britannica_. S. J. Meltzer, the physiologist, who has been the head of the department of physiology and pharmacology at Rockefeller Institute since 1906, is not in the _Britannica_. T. H. Morgan, the zoölogist, whose many books on the subject have long been standard works, is without a biography. E. B. Wilson, one of the great pathfinders in zoölogy and a man who stands in the front rank of that science, is also without a biography. And Abraham Jacobi, who is the father of pediatrics in America, is not mentioned.

The list of wanton omissions is not yet complete! C. S. Minot, the great American embryologist, is ignored. Theobald Smith, the pathologist, is also thought unworthy of note. And among those renowned American scientists who, though mentioned, failed to impress the Encyclopædia’s English editor sufficiently to be given biographies are: John Kerasley Mitchell, who was the first to describe certain neurological conditions, and was one of the advocates of the germ theory of disease before bacteriology; William Beaumont, the first to study digestion _in situ_; Jacques Loeb, whose works on heliotropism, morphology, psychology, etc., have placed him among the world’s foremost imaginative researchers; H. S. Jennings, another great American biologist; W. H. Welch, one of the greatest of modern pathologists and bacteriologists; and Simon Flexner, whose work is too well known to the world to need any description here. These men unquestionably deserve biographies in any encyclopædia which makes even a slight pretence of completeness, and to have omitted them from the _Britannica_ was an indefensible oversight—or worse.

The editors of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ cannot explain away these amazing omissions on the ground that the men mentioned are not of sufficient importance to have come within the range of their consideration; for, when we look down the list of _British_ medical scientists who are given biographies, we can find at least a score of far less important ones. For instance, Elizabeth G. Anderson, whose claim to glory lies in her advocacy of admitting women into the medical profession, is given considerably over half a column. Gilbert Blane, the introducer of lime-juice into the English navy, also has a biography. So has Richard Brocklesby, an eighteenth-century army physician; and Andrew Clark, a fashionable London practitioner; and T. B. Curling; and John Elliotson, the English mesmerist; and Joseph Fayrer, known chiefly for his studies in the poisonous snakes of India; and J. C. Forster; and James Clark, an army surgeon and physician in ordinary to Queen Victoria; and P. G. Hewett, another surgeon to Queen Victoria; and many others of no more prominence or importance.

In order to realize the astounding lengths of injustice to which the _Britannica_ has gone in its petty neglect of America, compare these English names which are given detailed biographical consideration, with the American names which are left out. The editors of this encyclopædia must either plead guilty to the most flagrant kind of prejudicial discrimination against this country, or else confess to an abysmal ignorance of the history and achievements of modern science.

It might be well to note here that Luther Burbank’s name is mentioned only once in the _Britannica_, under _Santa Rosa_, the comment being that Santa Rosa was his home. Not to have given Burbank a biography containing an account of his important work is nothing short of preposterous. Is it possible that Americans are not supposed to be interested in this great scientist? And are we to assume that Marianne North, the English naturalist and flower painter—who is given a detailed biography—is of more importance than Burbank? The list of _English_ naturalists and botanists who receive biographies in the _Britannica_ includes such names as William Aiton, Charles Alston, James Anderson, W. J. Broderip, and Robert Fortune; and yet there is no biography or even discussion of Luther Burbank, the American!

Thus far in this chapter I have called attention only to the neglect of American scientists. It must not be implied, however, that America alone suffers from the _Britannica’s_ insular prejudice. No nation, save England, is treated with that justice and comprehensiveness upon which the Encyclopædia’s advertising has so constantly insisted. For instance, although Jonathan Hutchinson, the English authority on syphilis, receives (and rightly so) nearly half a column biography, Ehrlich, the world’s truly great figure in that field, is not considered of sufficient importance to be given biographical mention. It is true that Ehrlich’s salvarsan did not become known until 1910, but he had done much immortal work before then. Even Metchnikoff, surely one of the world’s greatest modern scientists, has no biography! And although British biologists of even minor importance receive biographical consideration, Lyonet, the Hollander, who did the first structural work after Swammerdam, is without a biography.

Nor are there biographies of Franz Leydig, through whose extensive investigations all structural studies upon insects assumed a new aspect; Rudolph Leuckart, another conspicuous figure in zoölogical progress; Meckel, who stands at the beginning of the school of comparative anatomy in Germany; Rathke, who made a significant advance in comparative anatomy; Ramón y Cajal, whose histological research is of world-wide renown; Kowalevsky, whose work in embryology had enormous influence on all subsequent investigations; Wilhelm His, whose embryological investigations, especially in the development of the nervous system and the origin of nerve fibres, are of very marked importance; Dujardin, the discoverer of sarcode; Lacaze-Duthiers, one of France’s foremost zoölogical researchers; and Pouchet, who created a sensation with his experimentations in spontaneous generation.

Even suppose the _Britannica’s_ editor should argue that the foregoing biologists are not of the very highest significance and therefore are not deserving of separate biographies, how then can he explain the fact that such _British_ biologists as Alfred Newton, William Yarrell, John G. Wood, G. J. Allman, F. T. Buckland, and T. S. Cobbold, are given individual biographies with a detailed discussion of their work? What becomes of that universality of outlook on which he so prides himself? Or does he consider Great Britain as the universe?

As I have said, the foregoing notes do not aim at being exhaustive. To set down, even from an American point of view, a complete record of the inadequacies which are to be found in the _Britannica’s_ account of modern science would require much more space than I can devote to it here. I have tried merely to indicate, by a few names and a few comparisons, the insular nature of this Encyclopædia’s expositions, and thereby to call attention to the very obvious fact that the _Britannica_ is _not_ “an international dictionary of biography,” but a prejudiced work in which English endeavor, through undue emphasis and exaggeration, is given the first consideration. Should this Encyclopædia be depended upon for information, one would get but the meagrest idea of the splendid advances which America has made in modern science. And, although I have here touched only on medicine and biology, the same narrow and provincial British viewpoint can be found in the _Britannica’s_ treatment of the other sciences as well.

IX

INVENTIONS, PHOTOGRAPHY, ÆSTHETICS

In the matter of American inventions the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ would appear to have said as little as possible, and to have minimized our importance in that field as much as it dared. And yet American inventors, to quote H. Addington Bruce, “have not simply astonished mankind; they have enhanced the prestige, power, and prosperity of their country.” The _Britannica’s_ editors apparently do not agree with this; and when we think of the wonderful romance of American inventions, and the possibilities in the subject for full and interesting writing, and then read the brief, and not infrequently disdainful, accounts that are presented, we are conscious at once not only of an inadequacy in the matter of facts, but of a niggardliness of spirit.

Let us regard the Encyclopædia’s treatment of steam navigation. Under _Steamboat_ we read: “The first practical steamboat was the tug ‘Charlotte Dundas,’ built by William Symington (Scotch), and tried in the Forth and Clyde Canal in 1802.... The trial was successful, but steam towing was abandoned for fear of injuring the banks of the canal. Ten years later Henry Bell built the ‘Comet,’ with side-paddle wheels, which ran as a passenger steamer on the Clyde; but an earlier inventor to follow up Symington’s success was the American, Robert Fulton....”

This practically sums up the history of that notable achievement. Note the method of presentation, with the mention of Fulton as a kind of afterthought. While the data may technically come within the truth, the impression given is a false one, or at least a British one. Even English authorities admit that Fulton established definitely the value of the steamboat as a medium for passenger and freight traffic; but here the credit, through implication, is given to Symington and Bell. And yet, if Symington is to be given so much credit for pioneer work, why are not William Henry, of Pennsylvania, John Stevens, of New Jersey, Nathan Read, of Massachusetts, and John Fitch, of Connecticut, mentioned also? Surely each of these other Americans was important in the development of the idea of steam as motive power in water.

Eli Whitney receives a biography of only two-thirds of a column; Morse, less than a column; and Elias Howe, only a little over half a column. Even Thomas Edison receives only thirty-three lines of biography—a mere statement of facts. Such a biography is an obvious injustice; and the American buyers of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ have just cause for complaining against such inadequacy. Edison admittedly is a towering figure in modern science, and an encyclopædia the size of the _Britannica_ should have a full and interesting account of his life, especially since obscure English scientists are accorded far more liberal biographies.

Alexander Graham Bell, however, receives the scantiest biography of all. It runs to just fifteen lines! And the name of Daniel Drawbaugh is not mentioned. He and Bell filed their papers for a telephone on the same day; and it was only after eight years’ litigation that the Supreme Court decided in Bell’s favor—four judges favoring him and three favoring Drawbaugh. No reference is made of this interesting fact. Would the omission have occurred had Drawbaugh been an Englishman instead of a Pennsylvanian, or had not Bell been a native Scotchman?

The name of Charles Tellier, the Frenchman, does not appear in the _Britannica_. Not even under _Refrigerating and Ice Making_ is he mentioned. And yet back in 1868 he began experiments which culminated in the refrigerating plant as used on ocean vessels to-day. Tellier, more than any other man, can be called the inventor of cold storage, one of the most important of modern discoveries, for it has revolutionized the food question and had far-reaching effects on commerce. Again we are prompted to ask if his name would have been omitted from the _Britannica_ had he been an Englishman.

Another unaccountable omission occurs in the case of Rudolph Diesel. Diesel, the inventor of the Diesel engine, is comparable only to Watts in the development of power; but he is not considered of sufficient importance by the editors of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ to be given a biography. And under _Oil Engine_ we read: “Mr. Diesel has produced a very interesting engine which departs considerably from other types.” Then follows a brief technical description of it. This is the entire consideration given to Diesel, with his “interesting” engine, despite the fact that the British Government sent to Germany for him in order to investigate his invention!

Few names in the history of modern invention stand as high as Wilbur and Orville Wright. To them can be attributed the birth of the airplane. In 1908, to use the words of an eminent authority, “the Wrights brought out their biplanes and practically taught the world to fly.” The story of how these two brothers developed aviation is, according to the same critic, “one of the most inspiring chronicles of the age.” The _Britannica’s_ editors, if we are to judge their viewpoint by the treatment accorded the Wright brothers in this encyclopædia, held no such opinion. Not only is neither of these men given a biography, but under _Flight and Flying_—the only place in the whole twenty-nine volumes where their names appear—they are accorded much less consideration than they deserve. Sir Hiram S. Maxim’s flying adventures receive more space.

* * * * *

A subject which unfortunately is too little known in this country and yet one in the development of which America has played a very important part, is pictorial photography. A double interest therefore attaches to the manner in which this subject is treated in the _Britannica_. Since the writer of the article was thoroughly familiar with the true conditions, an adequate record might have been looked for. But no such record was forthcoming. In the discussion of photography in this Encyclopædia the same bias is displayed as in other departments—the same petty insularity, the same discrimination against America, the same suppression of vital truth, and the same exaggerated glorification of England. In this instance, however, there is documentary proof showing deliberate misrepresentation, and therefore we need not attribute the shortcomings to chauvinistic stupidity, as we have so charitably done in similar causes.

In the article on _Pictorial Photography_ in this aggressibly British reference work we find the following: “It is interesting to note that as a distinct movement pictorial photography is essentially of British origin, and this is shown by the manner in which organized photographic bodies in Vienna, Brussels, Paris, St. Petersburg, Florence, and other European cities, as well as in Philadelphia, Chicago, etc., following the example of London, held exhibitions on exactly similar lines to those of the London Photographic Salon, and invited known British exhibitors to contribute.” Then it is noted that the interchange of works between British and foreign exhibitors led, in the year 1900, “to a very remarkable cult calling itself ‘The New American School,’ which had a powerful influence on contemporaries in Great Britain.”

The foregoing brief and inadequate statements contain all the credit that is given America in this field. New York, where much of the foremost and important work was done, is not mentioned; and the name of Alfred Stieglitz, who is undeniably the towering figure in American photography as well as one of the foremost figures in the world’s photography, is omitted entirely. Furthermore, slight indication is given of the “powerful influence” which America has had; and the significant part she has played in photography, together with the names of the American leaders, is completely ignored, although there is quite a lengthy discussion concerning English photographic history, including credit to those who participated in it.

For instance, the American, Steichen, a world figure in photography and, of a type, perhaps the greatest who ever lived, is not mentioned. Nor are Gertrude Käsebier and Frank Eugene, both of whom especially the former, has had an enormous international influence in pictorial photography. And although there is a history of the formation of the “Linked Ring” in London, no credit is given to Stieglitz whose work, during twenty-five years in Germany and Vienna, was one of the prime influences in the crystallization of this brotherhood. Nor is there so much as a passing reference to _Camera Work_ (published in New York) which stands at the head of photographic publications.

As I have said, there exists documentary evidence which proves the deliberate unfairness of this article. It is therefore not necessary to accept my judgment on the importance of Stieglitz and the work done in America. A. Horsley Hinton, who is responsible for the prejudiced article in the Encyclopædia, was the editor of _The Amateur Photographer_, a London publication; and in that magazine, as long ago as 1904, we have, in Mr. Hinton’s own words, a refutation of what he wrote for the _Britannica_. In the May 19 (1904) issue he writes: “We believe every one who is interested in the advance of photography generally, will learn with pleasure that Mr. Alfred Stieglitz, whose life-long and wholly disinterested devotion to pictorial photography should secure him a unique position, will be present at the opening of the next Exhibition of the Photographic Salon in London. Mr. Stieglitz was zealous in all good photographic causes long before the Salon, and indeed long before pictorial photography was discussed—with Dr. Vogel in Germany, for instance, twenty-five years ago.”

Elsewhere in this same magazine we read: “American photography is going to be the ruling note throughout the world unless others bestir themselves; indeed, the Photo-Secession (American) pictures have already captured the highest places in the esteem of the civilized world. Hardly an exhibition of first importance is anywhere held without a striking collection of American work, brought together and sent by Mr. Alfred Stieglitz. For the last two or three years in the European exhibitions these collections have secured the premier awards, or distinctions.” And again we find high praise of Steichen, “than whom America possesses no more brilliant genius among her sons who have taken up photography.”

These quotations—and many similar ones appeared over a decade ago in Mr. Hinton’s magazine—give evidence that Mr. Hinton was not unaware of the extreme importance of American photographic work or of the eminent men who took part in it; and yet in writing his article for the _Britannica_ he has apparently carefully forgotten what he himself had previously written.

But this is not the only evidence we have of deliberate injustice in the Encyclopædia’s disgraceful neglect of our efforts in this line. In 1913, in the same English magazine, we find not only an indirect confession of the _Britannica’s_ bias, but also the personal reason for that bias. Speaking of Stieglitz’s connection with that phase of photographic history to which Mr. Hinton was most intimately connected, this publication says: “At that era, and for long afterwards, Stieglitz was, in fact, a thorn in our sides. ‘Who’s Boss of the Show?’ inquires a poster, now placarded in London. Had that question been asked of the (London) Salon, an irritated whisper of honesty would have replied ‘Stieglitz.’ And ... we didn’t like it. We couldn’t do without him; but these torrential doctrines of his were, to be candid, a nuisance.... He is an influence; an influence for which, even if photography were not concerned, we should be grateful, but which, as it is, we photographers can never perhaps justly estimate.” After this frank admission the magazine adds: “Stieglitz—too big a man to need any ‘defense’—has been considerably misunderstood and misrepresented, and, in so far as this is so, photographers and photography itself are the losers.”

What better direct evidence could one desire than this naïf confession? Yes, Stieglitz, who, according to Mr. Hinton’s own former publication, was a thorn in that critic’s side, has indeed been “misrepresented”; but nowhere has he been neglected with so little excuse as in Mr. Hinton’s own article in the _Britannica_. And though—again according to this magazine—Stieglitz is “too big a man to need any ‘defense,’” I cannot resist defending him here; for the whole, petty, personal and degrading affair is characteristic of the _Encyclopædia Britannica’s_ contemptible treatment of America and Americans.

Such flagrant political intriguing, such an obvious attempt to use the Encyclopædia to destroy America’s high place in the world of modern achievement, can only arouse disgust in the unprejudiced reader. The great light-bearer in the photographic field, _Camera Work_, if generally known and appreciated, would have put Mr. Hinton’s own inferior magazine out of existence as a power; and his omitting to mention it in his article and even in his bibliography, is a flagrant example of the _Britannica’s_ refusal to tell the whole truth whenever that truth would harm England or benefit America.

* * * * *

In view of the wide and growing interest in æsthetics and of the immense progress which has been made recently in æsthetic research, one would expect to find an adequate and comprehensive treatment of that subject in a work like the _Britannica_. But here again one will be disappointed. The article on æsthetics reveals a _parti pris_ which illy becomes a work which should be, as it claims to be, objective and purely informative. The author of the article is critical and not seldom argumentative; and, as a result, full justice is not done the theories and research of many eminent modern æstheticians. Twenty-two lines are all that are occupied in setting forth the æsthetic writers in Germany since Goethe and Schiller, and in this brief paragraph, many of the most significant contributors to the subject are not even given passing mention. And, incredible as it may seem, that division of the article which deals with the German writers is shorter than the division dealing with English writers!

One might forgive scantiness of material in this general article if it were possible to find the leading modern æsthetic theories set forth in the biographies of the men who conceived them. But—what is even more astonishing in the Encyclopædia’s treatment of æsthetics—there are no biographies of many of the scientists whose names and discoveries are familiar to any one even superficially interested in the subject. Several of these men, whose contributions have marked a new epoch in psychological and æsthetic research, are not even mentioned in the text of the Encyclopædia; and the only indication we have that they lived and worked is in an occasional foot-note. Their names do not so much as appear in the Index!

Külpe, one of the foremost psychologists and æstheticians, has no biography, and he is merely mentioned in a foot-note as being an advocate of the principle of association. Lipps, who laid the foundation of the new philosophy of æsthetics and formulated the hypothesis of _Einfühlung_, has no biography. His name appears once—under _Æsthetics_—and his theory is actually disputed by the critic who wrote the article. Groos, another important æsthetic leader, is also without a biography; and his name is not in the _Britannica’s_ Index. Nor is Hildebrand, whose solutions to the problem of form are of grave importance, thought worthy of mention.

There is no excuse for such inadequacy, especially as England possesses in Vernon Lee a most capable interpreter of æsthetics—a writer thoroughly familiar with the subject, and one whose articles and books along this line of research have long been conspicuous for their brilliancy and thoroughness.

Furthermore, in this article we have another example of the _Britannica’s_ contempt for American achievement. This country has made important contributions to æsthetics; and only an Englishman could have written a modern exposition of the subject without referring to the researches of William James and Hugo Münsterberg. The Lange-James hypothesis has had an important influence on æsthetic theory; and Münsterberg’s observations on æsthetic preference, form-perception and projection of feelings, play a vital rôle in the history of modern æsthetic science; but you will look in vain for any mention of these Americans’ work. Münsterberg’s _Principles of Art Education_ is not even included in the bibliography.

X

PHILOSOPHY

One going to the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ for critical information concerning philosophy will encounter the very essence of that spirit which is merely reflected in the other departments of the Encyclopædia’s culture. In this field the English editors and contributors of the _Britannica_ are dealing with the sources of thought, and as a result British prejudice finds a direct outlet.

To be sure, it is difficult for a critic possessing the mental characteristics and the ethical and religious predispositions of his nation, to reveal the entire field of philosophy without bias. He has certain temperamental affinities which will draw him toward his own country’s philosophical systems, and certain antipathies which will turn him against contrary systems of other nations. But in the higher realms of criticism it is possible to find that intellectual detachment which can review impersonally the development of thought, no matter what tangential directions it may take. There have been several adequate histories of philosophy written by British critics, proving that it is not necessary for an Englishman to regard the evolution of thinking only through distorted and prejudiced eyes.

The _Encyclopædia Britannica_, however, evidently holds to no such just ideal in its exposition of philosophical research. Only in a very few of the biographies do we find evidences of an attempt to set forth this difficult subject with impartiality. As in its other departments, the Encyclopædia places undue stress on British thinkers: it accords them space out of all proportion to their relative importance, and includes obscure and inconsequent British moralists while omitting biographies of far more important thinkers of other nations.

This obvious discrepancy in space might be overlooked did the actual material of the biographies indicate the comparative importance of the thinkers dealt with. But when British critics consider the entire history of thought from the postulates of their own writers, and emphasize only those philosophers of foreign nationality who appeal to “English ways of thinking,” then it is impossible to gain any adequate idea of the philosophical teachings of the world as a whole. And this is precisely the method pursued by the _Britannica_ in dealing with the history and development of modern thought. In nearly every instance, and in every important instance, it has been an English didactician who has interpreted for this Encyclopædia the teachings of the world’s leading philosophers; and there are few biographies which do not reveal British prejudice.

The modern English critical mind, being in the main both insular and middle-class, is dominated by a suburban moral instinct. And even among the few more scholarly critics there is a residue of puritanism which tinctures the syllogisms and dictates the deductions. In bringing their minds to bear on creative works these critics are filled with a sense of moral disquietude. At bottom they are Churchmen. They mistake the tastes and antipathies which have been bred in them by a narrow religious and ethical culture, for pure critical criteria. They regard the great men of other nations through the miasma of their tribal taboos.

This rigid and self-satisfied provincialism of outlook, as applied to philosophers in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, is not, I am inclined to believe, the result of a deliberate attempt to exaggerate the importance of British thinkers and to underrate the importance of non-British thinkers. To the contrary, it is, I believe, the result of an unconscious ethical prejudice coupled with a blind and self-contented patriotism. But whatever the cause, the result is the same. Consequently, any one who wishes an unbiased exposition of philosophical history must go to a source less insular, and less distorted than the _Britannica_. Only a British moralist, or one encrusted with British morality, will be wholly satisfied with the manner in which philosophy is here treated; and since there are a great many Americans who have not, as yet, succumbed to English _bourgeois_ theology and who do not believe, for instance, that Isaac Newton is of greater philosophic importance than Kant, this Encyclopædia will be of far more value to an Englishman than to an American.

The first distortion which will impress one who seeks information in the _Britannica_ is to be found in the treatment of English empirical philosophers—that is, of John Locke, Isaac Newton, George Berkeley, Shaftesbury, Francis Hutcheson, Joseph Butler, Mandeville, Hume, Adam Smith and David Hartley. Locke receives fifteen columns of detailed exposition, with inset headings. “He was,” we are told, “typically English in his reverence for facts” and “a signal example in the Anglo-Saxon world of the love of attainable truth for the sake of truth and goodness.” Then we are given the quotation: “If Locke made few discoveries, Socrates made none.” Furthermore, he was “memorable in the record of human progress.”

Isaac Newton receives no less than nineteen columns filled with specific and unstinted praise; and in the three-and-a-half column biography of George Berkeley we learn that Berkeley’s “new conception marks a distinct stage of progress in human thought”; that “he once for all lifted the problem of metaphysics to a higher level,” and, with Hume, “determined the form into which later metaphysical questions have been thrown.” Shaftesbury, whose main philosophical importance was due to his ethical and moral speculations in refutation of Hobbes’ egoism, is represented by a biography of four and a half columns!

Hume receives over fourteen columns, with inset headings; Adam Smith, nearly nine columns, five and a half of which are devoted to a detailed consideration of his _Wealth of Nations_. Hutcheson, the ethical moralist who drew the analogy between beauty and virtue—the doctrinaire of the moral sense and the benevolent feelings—is given no less than five columns; while Joseph Butler, the philosophic divine who, we are told, is a “typical instance of the English philosophical mind” and whose two basic premises were the existence of a theological god and the limitation of human knowledge, is given six and a half columns!