Creighton University

Father Villiger, a Benedictine from Conception, Missouri, was here the whole school year 1902-03, studying chemistry under Dr. Crowley and mathematics, physics and astronomy under me. The series of advanced students began in 1889 with Father Jerome Ricard, of Santa Clara, California, who has since won a world-wide celebrity by his predictions of the weather from the spots on the sun. From that year 1889 until 1926 I have had altogether nineteen different students, from one to five at a time.

While a few of these, as might he expected, had no idea whatever of what they expected to learn, and, of course, departed not much the wiser , and, fortunately only a very few made vacation their first object, many were most excellent, intelligent and industrious. It would not do for me here to mention names.

But alas! Not one of them persevered. And while Superiors and myself have been looking about for years to find some one on whom my mantle could fall, my successor has not yet loomed above the horizon.

Membership in learned or technical societies is not of itself a testimony of ability and proficiency, It is at times merely an indication of the length of one's purse, because in practice almost any person may join such an organization and remain in it, if he is faithful in paying his dues. Still, such membership does give one a standing, and is practically required of those who come before the public as writers or speakers. It brings with it also many advantages. Such as the ready acceptance of one's articles by all magazines, and especially the personal acquaintance with the great man. For this last purpose of course it is necessary that one should attend the meetings of the society as often as possible.

The great and, one might say, the fundamental scientific society of the United States is the American Association for the Advancement of Science, the A.A.A.S., which is divided off into branches for the individual sciences, and to which practically every American man of science belongs. It generally holds the meetings once a year, and that during Christmas week. Every fourth year an especially large gathering takes place in succession in New York, Washington, and Chicago, and during the other years in various other large cities. While the general assemblies are held mostly in the evening, the sectional ones meet in the morning and afternoon. As there are many sections, and as a large number of affiliated societies meet also during these days, one is forced to restrict himself to only one or a very few of them, if he wishes to reap any advantage from his attendance.

As travelling costs money, there was no prospect of my joining this Association until after the finances of Creighton University had been placed on a secure footing, and the Creighton estate had been distributed in March 1908. Father Magevney then proposed the membership to me. Of course, I accepted thankfully and gladly. I was made a member on December 27, 1910 at the Minneapolis meeting. I did not attend this as I might have done principally because I had never been in that city and knew nobody there. This reason, however, melted away as I gained experience.

The following Christmas week, 1911, the Association met in Washington, D. C. To my great delight I was allowed to go there, I took up my quarters at the Georgetown University, which I had not seen for fifteen years. As Father Hagen had been called to the Vatican Observatory by Pius X in 1906, Father Hedrick was nose director in Georgetown where I had myself been an assistant astronomer for a year. 1895-96, and where I had expected to remain for a long period.

To omit other interesting but irrelevant matters, I found out in a few minutes that the astronomical section of the A.A.A.S. was composed almost exclusively of members of the Astronomical and Astrophysical Society of America, (which later on abbreviated its name to the American Astronomical Society) I joined this therefore at once, on December 28, 1911. This society, however, of late holds its annual meeting in August or September and visits all the large observatories of the country in rotation, but joins in with the A.A.A.S. generally only every fourth year at its large Convocations.

The next Christmas week, 1912, I was at the meeting in Cleveland, where I read my first paper. It was entitled "Astronomy in the Civil Courts" and treated of the Photographic shadow, as is mentioned elsewhere in these pages. Two weeks later, January 10, 1913, I was advanced from membership to fellowship in the A.A.A.S.

In December 1913 I was in Atlanta, Georgina, where I had two papers, the first on the Arlington Wireless Time Signals, and the second on Astronomical Panoramic Views from a City Observatory.

In August 1915 I was in California. I read a paper on the Solar Eclipse of 1916 December 24-25, which was to be remarkable in several ways. Of course, I visited the Panama Pacific Exposition the Lick and Mount Wilson Observatories, not to forget my old friend Father Jerome Ricard in Santa Clara, and spent two days at the Grand Canyon.

Christmas week 1916 found me in New York, where I showed nine drawings of the solar eclipse whose central line was to pass through the "pin point" of the South Pole on December 13, 1917.

In September 1919 the Astronomical Society met in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

During Christmas week 1920 the A.A.A.S. held one of its quadrennial large convocations in Chicago. This was the last meeting I was able to attend.

I joined the Nebraska Academy of Science on April 23, 1911. This meets generally in May every other year in Lincoln, and the intervening ones elsewhere. In 1924 the meeting took place in Creighton University. I attended quite regularly all those that were held in Lincoln and in this city, but not the others.

While personal acquaintance with those who are working in the same field is the greatest advantage to be gained from membership in scientific societies, the next, and in many cases, the only one is that to be obtained from the periodicals they publish. Most of the organizations realize that, and use their publications as inducements to membership. For this reason I joined the Royal Astronomical Society of England as early as June 11, 1909. Its annual dues are rather high priced, two guineas, and its

Monthly Notices highly leveled, but F. R. A. S., after my name has given me a great deal of prestige.

In 1916 I became a member of the Societe Astronomique de France, principally on account of the excellent monthly L'Astronomie. The annual dues were ten francs, two dollars. After the war in 1920 the dues were doubled to twenty francs, but in American money this was only $1.45. In 1926 I paid only seventy-five cents.

I had been for a little while a member of the German Astronomische Gesellschaft at Father Hagen's suggestion. But I left it and would not join in spite of his pleading, simply because it has no publication that I can use.

In 1920 1 joined the incipient American Meteorological Society, Its monthly is still small, but gives promise of good growth.

As the articles in the Astrophysical Journal, which we had been taking for many years, were all of them entirely too technical for our professors, I thought I could invest the subscription price of six dollars to better advantage by becoming a member of the Astronomical Society of the Pacific, whose periodical was within my understanding, and whose annual dues were only five dollars. I joined it accordingly on February 9, 1922. The Astrophysical Journal, however, made three attempts to keep me on its list, but it had to he content with my excuse.

I was or am still an active member of several societies of lesser importance or magnitude, amid an honorary member of some others. I read papers quite frequently at the meetings of all the societies, and lectured to many clubs in and about Omaha, until August 1922. After that I was no longer able to attend a meeting even in the city.

I am sure that my membership in these societies, and especially my attending the meetings and reading papers there have been of very great advantage to myself and to Creighton University. And I would earnestly advise every one similarly situated to do so likewise.

I am convinced that 99 per cent of the reputation that I am said to have acquired for Creighton University and myself, has been due exclusively to many using my pen. We live in what may pre-eminently be called the age of the press, in which everybody can put his ideas in print. Why should one not then use this powerful weapon for good, to scatter the seeds of true knowledge and correct morality beyond the limits of one's class room, no an ever widening circle of readers?

Fired with enthusiasm for the noble work, I began to use my pen early in life, my first article appearing on September 4, 1886. And I am sure that if college publications had existed in my day as they do now, it would have begun more than twelve years sooner. And by word and example I have urged others to enter this glorious field.

The first objection that I had to hear from everybody is that he does not know anything. This I always demolish by saying that, as a teacher, he knows more than his students, and these know more than the general public. Therefore the objection is false. And even if some of the readers should know more. They constitute a negligible minority for whom the article is not written.

The same objection is often made to give a lecture or even a "talk." I well remember the first time I met Dr. Millener, the "wireless wizard" of the Union Pacific. I was introduced to him by Michelsen, the city electrician, just as he was about to give a talk on some electrical subject at the Y. M. C. A. I realized after a few moments of conversation that he had an exaggerated dread of my superior ability, and that my presence would weigh like an incubus upon him. I therefore drew him aside at once and told him that, whatever my knowledge was, he was not to lecture to me but to those ignorant boys, and I promised to support him in everything he said. He then gave a very good talk.

I could never make up my mind firmly as to how I should rate Dr. Millener. To judge from the big mass of literature and the many instruments he had in the room on the roof of the Union Pacific headquarters, and from the way he spoke, he seemed to be well informed on the two subjects he had set his mind to study and to make a practical success. These two were the wireless control of the movements of a distant car, and the wireless telephone with which he intended to put the president of the road in his office into communication with every locomotive engineer on the tracks. He did not attain the expected results in either venture, so that the general public, for which nothing succeeds like success as well as practically all the technical men in town, used to look upon him as a fraud. However, as Dr. Millener explained to me, the causes for his failures were such as could naturally happen to anybody, and he had also put up with vexatious delays and refusals, and with many other difficulties and obstacles. To complete this short sketch of him, I must add that he made many promises even of fine instruments, not one of which he ever fulfilled. But he really did help me very much with his directions in regard to wireless telegraphy.

The objection of not having anything to say or to write about is always taken in the sense that the matter presented must be original. This is, however, no more necessary to a writer than it is to a teacher, The general public, as a rule, is intensely ignorant on the simplest and most fundamental things in every science. Articles on these are appearing continually in our periodicals and newspapers. The timid writer might begin this way, and to his own great astonishment will soon acquire a name for himself. He will be consulted by letter and by telephone and by callers in the parlor, and be asked no explain even more simple things than those he wrote about. This must give him confidence and encouragement.

Writing on these elementary things which he thought everybody knew, but found our that very few did, will then gradually open the writer's eyes to another fact which his timidity and humility had all along completely concealed from his view. This fact is that, as no two men are exactly alike, he has really a certain and truly original way of presenting an old subject, and indeed is the only one who knows a certain thing because he has never seen it mentioned before, and that in reality he has made a discovery and exceeded his own fondest ambition.

Prudence will now suggest consultation with his friends and with specialists, and confirm the originality of the discovery. He ought then write an article on it for a technical journal and, if possible, have one well known to the editor send it in to him. If it is rejected, the writer may console himself with the thought that the editor must be presumed to be a gentleman and will not mention the rejection to anybody. At the worst, as the paper will be returned to the writer, the editor will no longer have any documentary evidence. Should the editor return the article with suggestions of correcting and even of recasting it, the writer should humbly submit and follow the instructions for the reason that the editor is the best judge of what the readers want.

In practice he will need do this only once, or at least very rarely, because he will then become familiar with the style of the periodical. When the editor then sees that his directions have been followed, he cannot reject the article. Subsequent articles will then generally be received with thanks, and with often only a few or no verbal corrections whatever. The writer will then be looked up to as an authority on his subject, so that even foreign periodicals may notice him. And he may be sure that whatever he writes henceforth will be read.

What I have just said about the development of a writer is practically a universal experience, its extreme is also very generally true, that there are some men who are veritable gods in their own specialty, but know next to nothing about most other things. I have come to known several men of this description, so that I have long ago lost my dread of "great men" of the "magni nominis umbra." Their ignorance of elementary things shows itself particularly in matters of religion. The great Edison and Burbank are recent examples of this. If they have a religious bias, it is simply inconceivable according to all the fundamental rules of logic, how an organization as iniquitous as they paint the Catholic Church could exist for even a day.

The second objection made towards writing is want of time. This, of course, is a very valid excuse in many cases. But not in all. We can find time or make it to go to a game or a movie. But these are relaxations. So is writing is in its own way. It is as much of a pleasure, at times, as abstract mathematics is, but only to those who are its devotees. Both of these may be irksome now amid then, just as a poorly-played game is. But where there is a will, there is a way. And let me add that never in all my life was special time allowed me for writing, nor on the other hand was I ever accused of having neglected any of my duties on account of it.

A third objection made by some is that they cannot write well enough. This may be true to some extent, but the remedy would be to submit the manuscript to a friend for criticism. In the beginning the whole article may be condemned or the corrections may be plentiful enough to discourage anybody, and I have known some to drop right here. But the object in view is worth the price demanded of it. Try again. History abounds in examples of men who tried again and again to overcome their natural handicaps, and who finally succeeded gloriously.

On the other hand some people are their own worst critics. Nothing that they write or that others write is ever in their eyes fit to be published. My old friend Father Hedrick was a typical example. While I was at Georgetown with him in 1893-1896 I wrote a series of six articles. When I had submitted the first one to him, he criticized it so severely that scarcely a sentence escaped correction. I followed his, directions, however, but when he had slashed the article a second time in the same merciless way, I said to him under my breath, "Hold on, this will never end. You will never get a second chance on any of my writings again." And this same severity he exercised towards himself also. The consequence was that except for a few reports he was obliged to write about the Observatory, he never published anything. An enormous mistake. Nothing that is in print is so perfect that in cannot be improved. And in my own case as soon as I had read most of my own articles in print, I sincerely wished I could have brought in this or that corrections.

The hardest blow I received from Father Hedrick was when I had rewritten my Georgetown articles in book form in 1917 within the view of publishing them. His criticism was as severe as ever. So much so that I was completely discouraged for six years. Then when my bodily ailment gave me more than abundant leisure, I re-read his criticism. In spite of its severity, I had to admit to myself that it was not unjust, and that every correction was really an improvement. So I girded my loins for the work, followed the criticism as faithfully as I could, but of course did not submit the manuscript to him again. A second critic, whose approval was necessary for publication, was of course enormously more lenient. As I had obeyed the injunctions of both, there was no delay in obtaining the permission to print. I sent the good news at once to Father Hedrick. But my letter arrived too late. He had been buried just a few days before. The book in question was the one on "The Graphic Construction of Eclipses and occultations," which appeared in November 1924.

Father Hedrick is not the only one of my friends who would never come out in print unless forced to do so. The result is that their influence for good has not exceeded the limits of their classrooms. And some of these were very gifted men. What a pity!

Monetary remuneration was never my purpose in writing. Father Dowling had told me long ago that the reputation brought to Creighton University was worth more than money. Accordingly, although before the end of 1926 I had sent fifty contributions to the World-Herald and one hundred and forty-nine to the Bee, the only pecuniary reward I received was one freely offered me by the Bee, my transportation from St. Louis to Atlanta and return to observe the total eclipse of the sun on May 28, 1900. The Bee was always very liberal to me with free copies, but I had often to pay for copies of the other paper.

A few periodicals like the Scientific American and Benzoger's Magazine, and even the struggling St. Michael's Almanac, used to pay pretty well in cash. Popular Astronomy, to which I have contributed ninety articles in thirty-one years, put me on the free list of its recipients. At first it used to give me the reprints free also, but now for many years already I have been obliged to pay for reprints in all magazines, the cost for those of one article only often amounting to more than the yearly subscription. The lure of coin therefore was a vain spectre. Still it did help me at times in the hard days, notably in March 1903, when I had received two checks totaling fifty dollars. It was then an easy matter to obtain an appropriation of twenty dollars more and purchase that "king of tools," the fine lathe, that has done such good work in the college shop ever since.

I always made it a point, whenever I attended a scientific meeting out of town, not only to read a paper there, but especially to give an account of what I did and saw and heard. Thus I wrote four articles on my trip to California in 1915. These writings then reacted on my superiors, who saw that I was willing to pay for my privileges in the coin that I had. The result was that, if I only had the health, I could have traveled frequently all over the country, and I am sure, gone also to Rome in May 1923 to the International Astronomical Congress, which was attended by astronomers, and even by Jesuit astronomers, from all over the world.

In all my writings I have ever avoided controversy, especially in religious questions I am convinced that no good ever comes of it because, as the saying is, "If you convince a man against his will, he'll hold the same opinion still." No matter how clearly one may state his case, an opponent will misinterpret it, not answer a question, and jump to other matter. Unsatisfactory as this is to the contestants, it soon becomes uninteresting and tiresome to the readers, and the editor may print only a part of what is sent him, and stop the controversy at any point. For these reasons I used to ignore attacks on the church in scientific journals, condoning the writer because he had most probably been brought up in these prejudices and took it for granted that everybody agreed with him.

Once a rather vicious series of articles was begun in a scientific journal. I intentionally omit all names and dates, because I do not want to advertise the matter. I kept quiet. A friend wrote to me and urged me to protest. Said I, "Why don't you do it?" Then Father Hagen, whose advice I value highly, told me to protest to the editor, but not to the writer. I accordingly wrote a vigorous letter to the editor, who was highly astonished, as he said, that any fault could be found with the statements of the writer. I then wrote him several times and gave him the references. The result was that the writer modified his tone considerably towards the end.

A few, and I am glad to say that there are only a very few, of the great astronomers are intensely bigoted on the Galileo question and say so in print. The worst of these at present is George F. Hale, director of the Mount Wilson Observatory, with the 60-inch and 100-inch telescopes. As an astronomer he ranks very high, but as a reasoner in other matters his mind is that of a child. When I called his attention to some glaring falsehoods he had printed in the Galileo case and asked him for proofs, he said that "Galileo gave ample evidence of the correctness of the Copernican theory, but the sufficiency of this evidence is not the question." Yes, but what is that "ample evidence?" and if the sufficiency is not the question then how can he be held up to our admiration as having given that "ample evidence?" Does not "ample" mean even more than "sufficient," and does not "evidence" mean "proof?"

For another false account he referred me to a certain book. It took me several months to get that book. It did contain the incident as he had repeated it, but gave no references whatever. Now, some readers may say they read it in Hale, and he is a great man.

I had asked him point-blank whether he considered Galileo to be a hero when he foreswore his belief in a matter in which he is always said to have been convinced. Why did Galileo not die for his convictions, as the much praised Bruno is reported to have done? Hale answered: "In my judgement Galileo was one of the greatest pioneers of science." Is that answering my question?

From this private correspondence it is evident once more that controversy does not settle questions. It does this good, however, that Hale will be more cautious in his utterances against the Catholic Church. So will his publisher, to whom I also wrote in the matter.

Finally, the reader will want to know, of course, how many articles I have written. My official list, which includes only those writings which have appeared in print, counts 499 by the end of 1926. They range from the minimum of 100 words to a book of 80,000. Probably half of these are illustrated by drawings or photographs. In many of them the drawing or the map of the eclipse or occultation called for nine-tenths of the labor.

I have written two books, one on The Graphic Construction of Eclipses and Occulations, and the other on Harmonic Curves. If my bodily infirmities had not taken me out of the class room and overwhelmed with enforced leisure, I could probably never have been able to write these books.
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