Chapter 30 examines Goethe’s relationship with America. The country was for him an imagined space full of possibility, a historical frontier which opened onto modernity. The chapter considers the transatlantic network which, in the post-Napoleonic period, linked Harvard, Göttingen and Weimar, and would prove particularly important for Goethe’s geological studies. It also describes the – at times ambivalent – perspectives on American democracy that reached Goethe from Prince Bernhard, the son of Carl August, during his American travels, before moving to an analysis of American influences on and representations of America in Goethe’s literary work.

This chapter focuses on the essays of Transcendentalists such as Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Margaret Fuller who used writing as a spiritual and philosophical tool. This special form of prose allowed them to write themselves, and thus Transcendentalism as a movement, into being, creating a flexible, open-ended, and experimental instrument for the radical self-fashioning of an emergent sensibility: the American individual as a freestanding soul, entire in (him)self, capable of encompassing all the potential of the cosmos. The resulting works forever stamped this most antinomian of genres with the Transcendentalist’s indelible signature. The chapter traces the movement back to Harvard College in the 1820s and ’30s, where students and faculty discussed spirituality, philosophy, and the art of writing. The chapter traces the influence of this convergence and of key figures like the Unitarian preacher William Ellery Channing on the burgeoning movement. The chapter’s final pages highlight how central Transcendentalism has been to the American essay tradition, with writers today of greatly varying backgrounds absorbing its lessons and style into their own writing.

Chapter 7 publishes the text of Pitcairneana, MS Eng 1114 in the Houghton Library, Harvard. In it, a spokesman for atheism, ‘Incredulous’, argues against ‘Credulous’, a spokesman for Christian orthodoxy, and makes various points, notably concerning the relationship between spiritual and non-spiritual bodies and the issue of motion being intrinsic to matter; he also argues in favour of the world’s being eternal rather than the result of a divine act of creation and offers a cyclical rather than progressive view of human development. The authors referred to in the dialogue include Samuel Clarke, Henry More, John Toland and Robert Hooke, while the treatise ends by invoking ‘axioms’ in an essentially Newtonian mode.

In a talk given during the German occupation of the Netherlands, Henk van der Hulst discussed possible 21 cm radio emission from interstellar hydrogen atoms but pessimistically concluded that “the existence of the line remains speculative.” Nearly 20 years later, Harvard University PhD student Harold (Doc) Ewen surprisingly detected the 21 cm hydrogen line using a simple horn antenna sticking out the window of his laboratory and a novel frequency switching radiometer. van de Hulst had also calculated the possibility of detecting radio recombination lines from highly excited galactic hydrogen, but overestimated the effect of line broadening. Although he concluded that radio recombination lines are “unobservable,” they were subsequently detected in the USSR and the US. Observations of surprisingly strong radio emission from hydroxyl and water vapor were understood to be due to interstellar masers, which could have been detected much earlier if anyone had thought to look in the right place. Later discoveries of interstellar formaldehyde and carbon monoxide opened the door to a new and highly competitive field of astrophysics – molecular radio spectroscopy.

Holmes was one of the founders of the Atlantic Monthly, which quickly achieved a large readership, helped by a pithy serial that appeared in 1857–58. This was Holmes’s The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. It involved an erudite man and others at a Boston boardinghouse, who expressed opinions on many subjects. The series proved so popular that he came forth with a sequel in 1859. He called it The Professor at the Breakfast-Table. Holmes used the Professor in the latter to pillory phrenology. He repeatedly referred to it as “pseudo-science,” explaining that it was based on only accepting positive cases and ignoring all exceptions. Using a two-column format and a lot of humor, his Professor contrasted what a phrenologist might tell a client and what he might reveal to his pupil. And he emphasized that phrenologists were not really reading heads, attending instead to other cues, such as how a client dressed and answered questions. The remainder of this chapter shows how others lampooned the head readers before Holmes, and presents his 1861 Harvard lecture, which has the same take-home message. Notably, he praises phrenologists in this lecture for helping to draw attention to human differences, inborn tendencies, and the brain.

Samuel Clemenss changing views about phrenology and its purveyors did not occur in a vacuum. Here we see how he was not the first person or even the first American to use humor to poke fun at the doctrine or to “expose” how its purveyors operated in public venues. He was preceded by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, a Boston physician whose widely disseminated criticisms of phrenology helped open his eyes to the head readers and influenced how he would lampoon them. Born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 1809, Holmes received his Harvard undergraduate degree in 1829 and then attended a private medical school closely associated with Harvard. He proved to be an exceptionally bright student with a penchant for writing poetry and prose. He bore witness to how phrenology was the talk of the town when Spurzheim arrived in Boston in 1832. Many of his teachers were interested in phrenology and he joined them to hear Spurzheim. He also kept notes on Spurzheim’s autopsy and read about phrenology. But although he might have been skeptical about how much might be gleaned about the brain by studying skulls, he did not reveal what he was thinking while still a student in Boston.

When Holmes returned to America in December 1835, he quickly completed the requirements for his Harvard medical degree and began practicing medicine. Soon after, he began teaching at Dartmouth and then Harvard. He was now using his pulpit and pen to rail against superstitions, quackery, and unsubstantiated beliefs and therapies in medicine, while making seminal contributions to his profession. He gave a lecture on phrenology in 1850, but it is not clear what he communicated. We also know that he had several phrenology books in his personal collection and used the university’s libraries, also meeting with other New England writers interested in the subject. Wanting to learn more, he had Lorenzo Fowler evaluate his head in 1859, twelve years before Mark Twain used the same phrenologist for his “little test.” What Fowler reported was preserved and is presented. Importantly, Holmes was now prepared to state what he thought about phrenology and the head readers in public.

This chapter examimes Kuhn's background. It explains that Kuhn had quite exceptional experiences at Harvard as a student, and early in his career. He was interacting with other accomplished people.

Born and buried in Worcester, Massachusetts, Bishop’s peripatetic life found its physical and temperamental hub in New England. Bishop lived in Massachusetts for the greater portion of her childhood and adolescence. Though she traveled widely and lived for years in Brazil, she continued to perceive the novelty of “elsewhere” as a native “New-Englander-herring-choker-bluenoser.” This chapter examines the ways in which the New England region informed Bishop’s imagination. The Atlantic shoreline remained a lifelong fascination, a way of reckoning with time, caprice and power in poems such as ”Wading at Wellfleet” and ”The End of March.” Further inland, Bishop’s poem ”In the Waiting Room” and story ”The Country Mouse” articulate disorientation and recognition in a rich tapestry of epiphany, narrative and social critique, a mode she revisits poignantly in the poem ”Five Flights Up.” Returning to Massachusetts for a teaching post at Harvard University in 1970, Bishop stayed in New England for most of the last decade of her life.

This chapter reads Heaney’s relationship to America through the notions of place and the writer’s identity developed in his prose, as well as his evolving poetics. It shows how a youthful sense of transatlantic competition matures, with his early visits, into a deep ambivalence about the freedoms and opportunities America affords. America leaves only the faintest impress on the poetry of Wintering Out, the volume composed during his year as visiting lecturer at Berkeley, and distance from home weighs heavily. The political climate in San Francisco, however, and the creative responses it aroused, guide Heaney in the poetic forms and mytho-historical thinking that define North, his most coherent response to the Northern Irish Troubles. Heaney’s public remarks on American poetry and society, and his relationship with Robert Lowell in particular, show a gradual coming round to the loose forms, 'talkiness', and buoyant hybridity that he sees as the poetic articulation of the American experience.

Examining the Pareto Circle of thinkers who gathered at Harvard as many disciplines were beginning to articulate themselves and their methods, we look at the interdisciplinary birth of business studies and at the case study method. We argue that this history should be remembered, taught, and utliized in new interdisciplinary pursuits by management education and management studies more generally.

Unlike modern originalists, Justice Joseph Story (1779–1845) endorsed the maxim that “Christianity is a part of the common law,” and he seems thus to have considered Christianity deeply entangled with the Constitution. A Harvard graduate and Massachusetts Unitarian, he did not consider the Constitution bound to any specific Christian orthodoxy. Rather, by the Revolution, American Christianity itself had become tolerant of differences in doctrine and worship, while sharing an understanding of moral duty, embodied in the common law. Thus he could at once subscribe to the proposition that Christianity is a part of the common law and decide religion cases so as to uphold the separation of church and state, protecting church property from state interference, and protecting a municipally-run school from clerical influence. On the issue of slavery, his commitments to a living faith and to a settled Constitution collided, calling into question the Christian constitutionalism to which he devoted his professional life.