I was indebted to Dr. Billings as my guide, in selecting Dr. Daniel C. Gilman as the first President.  He passed away some years later.  Dr. Billings then recommended the present highly successful president, Dr. Robert S. Woodward.  Long may he continue to guide the affairs of the Institution!  The history of its achievements is so well known through its publications that details here are unnecessary.  I may, however, refer to two of its undertakings that are somewhat unique.  It is doing a world-wide service with the wood-and-bronze yacht, “Carnegie,” which is voyaging around the world correcting the errors of the earlier surveys.  Many of these ocean surveys have been found misleading, owing to variations of the compass.  Bronze being non-magnetic, while iron and steel are highly so, previous observations have proved liable to error.  A notable instance is that of the stranding of a Cunard steamship near the Azores.  Captain Peters, of the “Carnegie,” thought it advisable to test this case and found that the captain of the ill-fated steamer was sailing on the course laid down upon the admiralty map, and was not to blame.  The original observation was wrong.  The error caused by variation was promptly corrected.

This is only one of numerous corrections reported to the nations who go down to the sea in ships.  Their thanks are our ample reward.  In the deed of gift I expressed the hope that our young Republic might some day be able to repay, at least in some degree, the great debt it owes to the older lands.  Nothing gives me deeper satisfaction than the knowledge that it has to some extent already begun to do so.

With the unique service rendered by the wandering “Carnegie,” we may rank that of the fixed observatory upon Mount Wilson, California, at an altitude of 5886 feet.  Professor Hale is in charge of it.  He attended the gathering of leading astronomers in Rome one year, and such were his revelations there that these savants resolved their next meeting should be on top of Mount Wilson.  And so it was.

There is but one Mount Wilson.  From a depth seventy-two feet down in the earth photographs have been taken of new stars.  On the first of these plates many new worlds—­I believe sixteen—­were discovered.  On the second I think it was sixty new worlds which had come into our ken, and on the third plate there were estimated to be more than a hundred—­several of them said to be twenty times the size of our sun.  Some of them were so distant as to require eight years for their light to reach us, which inclines us to bow our heads whispering to ourselves, “All we know is as nothing to the unknown.”  When the monster new glass, three times larger than any existing, is in operation, what revelations are to come!  I am assured if a race inhabits the moon they will be clearly seen.

The third delightful task was founding the Hero Fund, in which my whole heart was concerned.  I had heard of a serious accident in a coal pit near Pittsburgh, and how the former superintendent, Mr. Taylor, although then engaged in other pursuits, had instantly driven to the scene, hoping to be of use in the crisis.  Rallying volunteers, who responded eagerly, he led them down the pit to rescue those below.  Alas, alas, he the heroic leader lost his own life.