in 1894.  After this he received a salary as chief of the Bureau of Ethnology in which office he remained till his death.  The widely known extensive series of valuable volumes published by the Bureau, constituting a mine of information, attest the efficacy of his supervision.  He contributed much to these and also wrote numerous papers on anthropological subjects and made many addresses.  His labours as a pioneer in and organiser of the science of ethnology have been recognised by learned institutions and societies throughout the world.  The results of his direction of the Geological Survey are seen in the maps, reports, bulletins, and monographs, constituting an imperishable monument to his ability as an organiser and administrator.

He delivered many lectures and once, when he appeared on the platform at the University of Michigan, an incident occurred which illustrates his tact and his faculty for seizing means at hand to accomplish his end.  At this time it was the habit of the students at public lectures to guy the speaker, even Charles Sumner having been a victim.  Powell had been warned of this practice.  As he advanced in evening dress a voice called out “How are your coat tails?”—­a greeting which was repeated from all parts of the house.  During a momentary lull he exclaimed with the peculiar squinting of the eyes and the half-laugh his friends so well remember:  “Your greeting reminds me of Dave Larkins’s reply when criticised for wearing a wamus* in July.  Dave said, with his slow drawl, ’If you don’t like my wamus I can take it off.’” The suggestion took with the students and when the laughter had ceased, cries of “You’ll do—­go on,” came from everywhere.  The incident roused Powell, and he has often said he never talked better nor had a more attentive audience.  He was rewarded with enthusiastic applause.  With his closing sentence he said:  “I have given you the finest account of the exploration of the Colorado River my command of language permits.  I have been as dramatic and as eloquent as I thought this occasion demanded.  If any one wishes a plain statement regarding the exploration, I will be happy to give it to him at my hotel.”  There was a hush for a moment as the students grasped the implication and cries of “Sold!” burst from them.  A large number did call the next morning to discover whether he had actually stated facts, which of course he had.

* A wamus in old times was a very heavy woollen garment.

He possessed absolute independence of thought and never accepted what was-told him unless he could demonstrate its accuracy.  Often in his explorations he was told he could not travel in certain places, but he went on just the same to find out for himself.  He had a rare faculty of inducing enthusiasm in others, and by reposing complete confidence in the individual, impelled him to do his very best.  Thus he became the mainspring for much that was never credited to him, and which was really his in the germ or original