I have alluded but slightly to the negro race, and not at all to the Indians. I would only add with reference to these that I begin to perceive the possibility of distinguishing different centres of growth in these two continents. If we leave out of consideration fancied migrations, what connection can be traced, for instance, between the Eskimos, along the whole northern districts of this continent, and the Indians of the United States, those of Mexico, those of Peru, and those of Brazil? Is there any real connection between the coast tribes of the northwest coast, the mound builders, the Aztec civilization, the Inca, and the Gueranis? It seems to me no more than between the Assyrian and Egyptian civilization. And as to negroes, there is, perhaps, a still greater difference between those of Senegal, of Guinea, and the Caffres and Hottentots, when compared with the Gallahs and Mandingoes. But where is the time to be taken for the necessary investigations involved in these inquiries? Pray write to me soon what you say to all this, and believe me always your true friend,
In the spring of 1852, while still in Charleston, Agassiz heard that the Prix Cuvier, now given for the first time, was awarded to him for the "Poissons Fossiles." This gratified him the more because the work had been so directly bequeathed to him by Cuvier himself. To his mother, through whom he received the news in advance of the official papers, it also gave great pleasure. "Your fossil fishes," she says, "which have cost you so much anxiety, so much toil, so many sacrifices, have now been estimated at their true value by the most eminent judges. . .This has given me such happiness, dear Louis, that the tears are in my eyes as I write it to you." She had followed the difficulties of his task too closely not to share also its success.
Return to Cambridge.Anxiety about Collections.Purchase of Collections.Second Winter in Charleston.Illness.Letter to James D. Dana concerning Geographical Distributionand Geological Succession of Animals.Resignation of Charleston Professorship.Propositions from Zurich.Letter to Oswald Heer.Decision to remain in Cambridge.Letters to James D. Dana, S.S. Haldeman, and Others respectingCollections illustrative of the Distribution of Fishes, Shells,etc., in our Rivers.Establishment of School for Girls.
Agassiz returned from Charleston to Cambridge in the early spring, pausing in Washington to deliver a course of lectures before the Smithsonian Institution. By this time he had become intimate with Professor Henry, at whose hospitable house he and his family were staying during their visit at Washington. He had the warmest sympathy not only with Professor Henry's scientific work and character, but also with his views regarding the Smithsonian Institution, of which he had become the Superintendent shortly after Agassiz arrived in this country. Agassiz himself was soon appointed one of the Regents of the Institution and remained upon the Board until his death.
Agassiz now began to feel an increased anxiety about his collections. During the six years of his stay in the United States he had explored the whole Atlantic sea-board as well as the lake and river system of the Eastern and Middle States, and had amassed such materials in natural history as already gave his collections, in certain departments at least, a marked importance. In the lower animals, and as illustrating the embryology of the marine invertebrates, they were especially valuable. It had long been a favorite idea with him to build up an embryological department in his prospective museum; the more so because such a provision on any large scale had never been included in the plan of the great zoological institutions, and he believed it would have a direct and powerful influence on the progress of modern science. The collections now in his possession included ample means for this kind of research, beside a fair representation of almost all classes of the animal kingdom. Packed together, however, in the narrowest quarters, they were hardly within his own reach, much less could they be made available for others. His own resources were strained to the utmost, merely to save these precious materials from destruction. It is true that in 1850 the sum of four hundred dollars, to be renewed annually, was allowed him by the University for their preservation, and a barrack-like wooden building on the college grounds, far preferable to the bath-house by the river, was provided for their storage. But the cost of keeping them was counted by thousands, not by hundreds, and the greater part of what Agassiz could make by his lectures outside of Cambridge was swallowed up in this way. It was, perhaps, the knowledge of this which induced certain friends, interested in him and in science, to subscribe twelve thousand dollars for the purchase of his collections, to be thus permanently secured to Cambridge. This gave him back, in part, the sum he had already spent upon them, and which he was more than ready to spend again in their maintenance and increase.
The next year showed that his over-burdened life was beginning to tell upon his health. Scarcely had he arrived in Charleston and begun his course at the Medical College when he was attacked by a violent fever, and his life was in danger for many days. Fortunately for him his illness occurred at the "Hollow Tree," where he was passing the Christmas holidays. Dr. and Mrs. Holbrook were like a brother and sister to him, and nothing could exceed the kindness he received under their roof. One young friend who had been his pupil, and to whom he was much attached, Dr. St. Julian Ravenel, was constantly at his bedside. His care was invaluable, for he combined the qualities of physician and nurse. Under such watchful tending, Agassiz could hardly fail to mend if cure were humanly possible. The solicitude of these nearer friends seemed to be shared by the whole community, and his recovery gave general relief. He was able to resume his lectures toward the end of February. Spite of the languor of convalescence his elastic mind was at once ready for work, as may be seen by the following extract from one of his first letters.
SULLIVAN'S ISLAND, CHARLESTON, February 16, 1853.
. . .It seems, indeed, to me as if in the study of the geographical distribution of animals the present condition of the animal kingdom was too exclusively taken into consideration. Whenever it can be done, and I hope before long it may be done for all classes, it will be desirable to take into account the relations of the living to the fossil species. Since you are as fully satisfied as I am that the location of animals, with all their peculiarities, is not the result of physical influences, but lies within the plans and intentions of the Creator, it must be obvious that the successive introduction of all the diversity of forms which have existed from the first appearance of any given division of the animal kingdom up to the present creation, must have reference to the location of those now in existence. For instance, if it be true among mammalia that the highest types, such as quadrumana, are essentially tropical, may it not be that the prevailing distribution of the inferior pachyderms within the same geographical limits is owing to the circumstance that their type was introduced upon earth during a warmer period in the history of our globe, and that their present location is in accordance with that fact, rather than related to their degree of organization? The pentacrinites, the lowest of the echinoderms, have only one living representative in tropical America, where we find at the same time the highest and largest spatangi and holothuridae. Is this not quite a parallel case with the monkeys and pachyderms? for once crinoids were the only representatives of the class of echinoderms. May we not say the same of crocodiles when compared with the ancient gigantic saurians? or are the crocodiles, as an order, distinct from the other saurians, and really higher than the turtles? Innumerable questions of this kind, of great importance for zoology, are suggested at every step, as soon as we compare the present distribution of animals with that of the inhabitants of former geological periods. Among crustacea, it is very remarkable that trilobites and limulus-like forms are the only representatives of the class during the paleozoic ages; that macrourans prevailed in the same manner during the secondary period; and that brachyurans make their appearance only in the tertiary period. Do you discover in your results any connection between such facts and the present distribution of crustacea? There is certainly one feature in their classification which must appear very striking,—that, taken on a large scale, the organic rank of these animals agrees in the main with their order of succession in geological times; and this fact is of no small importance when it is found that the same correspondence between rank and succession obtains through all classes of the animal kingdom, and that similar features are displayed in the embryonic growth of all types so far as now known.
But I feel my head is growing dull, and I will stop here. Let me conclude by congratulating you on having completed your great work on crustacea. . .
Agassiz returned to the North in the spring of 1853 by way of the Mississippi, stopping to lecture at Mobile, New Orleans, and St. Louis. On leaving Charleston he proffered his resignation with deep regret, for, beside the close personal ties he had formed, he was attached to the place, the people, and to his work there. He had hoped to establish a permanent station for sustained observations in South Carolina, and thus to carry on a series of researches which, taken in connection with his studies on the New England coast and its vicinity, and on the Florida reefs and shores, would afford a wide field of comparison. This was not to be, however. The Medical College refused, indeed, to accept his resignation, granting him, at the same time, a year of absence. But it soon became evident that his health was seriously shaken, and that he needed the tonic of the northern winter. He was, indeed, never afterward as strong as he had been before this illness.
The winter of 1854 was passed in Cambridge with such quiet and rest as the conditions of his life would allow. In May of that year he received an invitation to the recently established University of Zurich, in Switzerland. His acceptance was urged upon the ground of patriotism as well as on that of a liberal endowment both for the professor, and for the museum of which he was to have charge. The offer was tempting, but Agassiz was in love (the word is not too strong) with the work he had undertaken and the hopes he had formed in America. He believed that by his own efforts, combined with the enthusiasm for science which he had aroused and constantly strove to keep alive and foster in the community, he should at last succeed in founding a museum after his own heart in the United States,—a museum which should not be a mere accumulation, however vast or extensive, of objects of natural history, but should have a well-combined and clearly expressed educational value. As we shall see, neither the associations of his early life nor the most tempting scientific prizes in the gift of the old world could divert him from this settled purpose. The proposition from Zurich was not official, but came through a friend and colleague, for whom he had the deepest sympathy and admiration,—Oswald Heer. To work in his immediate neighborhood would have been in itself a temptation.
CAMBRIDGE, January 9, 1855.
How shall I make you understand why your kind letter, though it reached me some months ago, has remained till now unanswered. It concerns a decision of vital importance to my whole life, and in such a case one must not decide hastily, nor even with too exclusive regard for one's own preference in the matter. You cannot doubt that the thought of joining an institution of my native country, and thus helping to stimulate scientific progress in the land of my birth, my home, and my early friends, appeals to all I hold dear and honorable in life. On the other side I have now been eight years in America, have learned to understand the advantages of my position here, and have begun undertakings which are not yet brought to a conclusion. I am aware also how wide an influence I already exert upon this land of the future,—an influence which gains in extent and intensity with every year,—so that it becomes very difficult for me to discern clearly where I can be most useful to science. Among my privileges I must not overlook that of passing much of my time on the immediate sea-shore, where the resources for the zoologist and embryologist are inexhaustible. I have now a house distant only a few steps from an admirable locality for these studies, and can therefore pursue them uninterruptedly throughout the whole year, instead of being limited, like most naturalists, to the short summer vacations. It is true I miss the larger museums, libraries, etc., as well as the stimulus to be derived from association with a number of like-minded co-workers, all striving toward the same end. With every year, however, the number of able and influential investigators increases here, and among them are some who might justly claim a prominent place anywhere. . .
Neither are means for publication lacking. The larger treatises with costly illustrations appear in the Smithsonian Contributions, in the Transactions of the American Philosophical Society, in those of the Academy of Natural Sciences, and in the Memoirs of the American Academy; while the smaller communications find a place in Silliman's Journal, in the Journal of the Boston Natural History Society, and in the proceedings of other scientific societies. Museums also are already founded;. . .and beside these there are a number of private collections in single departments of zoology. . . Better than all this, however, is the lively and general interest taken in the exploration of the country itself. Every scientific expedition sent out by the government to the interior, or to the Western States of Oregon and California, is accompanied by a scientific commission,—zoologists, geologists, and botanists. By this means magnificent collections, awaiting only able investigators to work them up, have been brought together. Indeed, I do not believe that as many new things are accumulated anywhere as just here, and it is my hope to contribute hereafter to the more critical and careful examination of these treasures. Under these circumstances I have asked myself for months past how I ought to decide; not what were my inclinations, for that is not the question,—but what was my duty toward science? After the most careful consideration I am no longer in doubt, and though it grieves me to do so, I write to beg that you will withdraw from any action which might bring me a direct call to the professorship in Zurich. I have decided to remain here for an indefinite time, under the conviction that I shall exert a more advantageous and more extensive influence on the progress of science in this country than in Europe.
I regret that I cannot accept your offer of the Oeningen fossils. In the last two years I have spent more than 20,000 francs on my collection, and must not incur any farther expense of that kind at present. As soon, however, as I have new means at my command such a collection would be most welcome, and should it remain in your hands I may be very glad to take it. Neither can I make any exchange of duplicates just now, as I have not yet been able to sort my collections and set aside the specimens which may be considered only as materials for exchange. Can you procure for me Glarus fishes in any considerable number? I should like to purchase them for my collection, and do not care for single specimens of every species, but would prefer whole suites that I may revise my former identifications in the light of a larger insight.
Remember me kindly to all my Zurich friends, and especially toArnold Escher. . .
Agassiz's increasing and at last wholly unmanageable correspondence attests the general sympathy for and cooperation with his scientific aims in the United States. In 1853, for instance, he had issued a circular, asking for collections of fishes from various fresh-water systems of the United States, in order that he might obtain certain data respecting the laws of their distribution and localization. To this he had hundreds of answers coming from all parts of the country, many of them very shrewd and observing, giving facts respecting the habits of fishes, as well as concerning their habitat, and offering aid in the general object. Nor were these empty promises. A great number and variety of collections, now making part of the ichthyological treasures of the Museum at Cambridge, were forwarded to him in answer to this appeal. Indeed, he now began to reap, in a new form, the harvest of his wandering lecture tours. In this part of his American experience he had come into contact with all classes of people, and had found some of his most intelligent and sympathetic listeners in the working class. Now that he needed their assistance he often found his co-laborers among farmers, stock-raisers, sea-faring men, fishermen, and sailors. Many a New England captain, when he started on a cruise, had on board collecting cans, furnished by Agassiz, to be filled in distant ports or nearer home, as the case might be, and returned to the Museum at Cambridge. One or two letters, written to scientific friends at the time the above-mentioned circular was issued, will give an idea of the way in which Agassiz laid out such investigations.
CAMBRIDGE, July 8, 1853.
. . .I have been lately devising some method of learning how far animals are truly autochthones, and how far they have extended their primitive boundaries. I will attempt to test that question with Long Island, the largest of all the islands along our coast. For this purpose I will for the present limit myself to the fresh-water fishes and shells, and for the sake of comparison I will try to collect carefully all the species living in the rivers of Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey, and see whether they are identical with those of the island. Whatever may come out of such an investigation it will, at all events, furnish interesting data upon the local distribution of the species. . .I am almost confident that it will lead to something interesting, for there is one feature of importance in the case; the present surface of Long Island is not older than the drift period; all its inhabitants must, therefore, have been introduced since that time. I shall see that I obtain similar collections from the upper course of the Connecticut, so as to ascertain whether there, as in the Mississippi, the species differ at different heights of the river basin. . .
CAMBRIDGE, July 9, 1853.
. . .While ascending the great Mississippi last spring I was struck with the remarkable fact that the fishes differ essentially in the different parts of that long water-course,—a fact I had already noticed in the Rhine, Rhone, and Danube, though there the difference arises chiefly from the occurrence, in the higher Alpine regions, of representatives of the trout family which are not found in the main river course. In the Mississippi, however, the case is otherwise and very striking, inasmuch as we find here, at separate latitudes, distinct species of the same genera, somewhat like the differences observed in distinct water-basins; and yet the river is ever flowing on past these animals, which remain, as it were, spell-bound to the regions most genial to them. The question at once arises, do our smaller rivers present similar differences? I have already taken steps to obtain complete collections of fishes, shells, and crayfishes from various stations on the Connecticut and the Hudson, and their tributaries; and I should be very happy if I could include the Susquehanna, Delaware, and Ohio in my comparisons. My object in writing now is to inquire whether you could assist me in making separate collections, as complete as possible, of all these animals from the north and west branches of the Susquehanna, from the main river either at Harrisburg or Columbia, and from the Juniata, also from the Schuylkill, Lehigh, and Delaware, and from the Allegheny and Monongahela. I have Swiss friends in the State of New York who have promised me to collect the fishes from the head-waters of the Delaware and Susquehanna within the limits of the State of New York. I cannot, of course, expect you to survey your State for me, but among your acquaintance in various parts of your State are there not those who, with proper directions, could do the work for me? I would, of course, gladly repay all their expenses. The subject seems to me so important as to justify any effort in that direction. Little may be added to the knowledge of the fishes themselves, for I suppose most of the species have been described either by De Kay, Kirtland, or Storer; but a careful study of their special geographical distribution may furnish results as important to zoology as the knowledge of the species themselves. If you cannot write yourself, will you give me the names of such persons as might be persuaded to aid in the matter. I know from your own observations in former times that you have already collected similar facts for the Unios, so that you will at once understand and appreciate my object. . .
He writes in the same strain and for the same object to Professor Yandell, of Kentucky, adding: "In this respect the State of Kentucky is one of the most important of the Union, not only on account of the many rivers which pass through its territory, but also because it is one of the few States the fishes of which have been described by former observers, especially by Rafinesque in his "Ichthyologia Ohioensis," so that a special knowledge of all his original types is a matter of primary importance for any one who would compare the fishes of the different rivers of the West. . .Do you know whether there is anything left of Rafinesque's collection of fishes in Lexington, and if so, whether the specimens are labeled, as it would be very important to identify his species from his own collection and his own labels? I never regretted more than now that circumstances have not yet allowed me to visit your State and make a stay in Louisville."
In 1854 Agassiz moved to a larger house, built for him by the college. Though very simple, it was on a liberal scale with respect to space; partly in order to accommodate his library, consisting of several thousand volumes, now for the first time collected and arranged in one room. He became very fond of this Cambridge home, where, with few absences, he spent the remainder of his life. The architect, Mr. Henry Greenough, was his personal friend, and from the beginning the house adapted itself with a kindly readiness to whatever plans developed under its roof. As will be seen, these were not few, and were sometimes of considerable moment. For his work also the house was extremely convenient. His habits in this respect were, however, singularly independent of place and circumstance. Unlike most studious men, he had no fixed spot in the house for writing. Although the library, with the usual outfit of well-filled shelves, maps, large tables, etc., held his materials, he brought what he needed for the evening by preference to the drawing-room, and there, with his paper on his knee, and his books for reference on a chair beside him, he wrote and read as busily as if he were quite alone. Sometimes when dancing and music were going on among the young people of the family and their guests, he drew a little table into the corner of the room, and continued his occupations as undisturbed and engrossed as if he had been in complete solitude,—only looking up from time to time with a pleased smile or an apt remark, which showed that he did not lose but rather enjoyed what was going on about him.
His children's friends were his friends. As his daughters grew up, he had the habit of inviting their more intimate companions to his library for an afternoon weekly. On these occasions there was always some subject connected with the study of nature under discussion, but the talk was so easy and so fully illustrated that it did not seem like a lesson. It is pleasant to remember that in later years Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson revived this custom for his own daughters; and their friends (being, indeed, with few changes, the same set of young people as had formerly met in Agassiz's library) used to meet in Mr. Emerson's study at Concord for a similar object. He talked to them of poetry and literature and philosophy as Agassiz had talked to them of nature. Those were golden days, not to be forgotten by any who shared their happy privilege.
In the winter of 1855 Agassiz endeavored to resume his public lectures as a means of increasing his resources. He was again, however, much exhausted when spring came, and it seemed necessary to seek some other means of support, for without considering scientific expenses, his salary of fifteen hundred dollars did not suffice for the maintenance of his family. Under these circumstances it occurred to his wife and his two older children, now of an age to assist her in such a scheme, that a school for young ladies might be established in the upper part of the new and larger house. By the removal of one or two partitions, ample room could be obtained for the accommodation of a sufficient number of pupils, and if successful such a school would perhaps make good in a pecuniary sense the lecturing tours which were not only a great fatigue to Agassiz, but an interruption also to all consecutive scientific work. In consultation with friends these plans were partly matured before they were confided to Agassiz himself. When the domestic conspirators revealed their plot, his surprise and pleasure knew no bounds. The first idea had been simply to establish a private school on the usual plan, only referring to his greater experience for advice and direction in its general organization. But he claimed at once an active share in the work. Under his inspiring influence the outline enlarged, and when the circular announcing the school was issued, it appeared under his name, and contained these words in addition to the programme of studies: "I shall myself superintend the methods of instruction and tuition, and while maintaining that regularity and precision in the studies so important to mental training shall endeavor to prevent the necessary discipline from falling into a lifeless routine, alike deadening to the spirit of teacher and pupil. It is farther my intention to take the immediate charge of the instruction in Physical Geography, Natural History, and Botany, giving a lecture daily, Saturdays excepted, on one or other of these subjects, illustrated by specimens, models, maps, and drawings."
In order not to interrupt the course of the narrative, the history of this undertaking in its sequence and general bearing on his life and work may be completed here in a few words. This school secured to him many happy and comparatively tranquil years. It enabled him to meet both domestic and scientific expenses, and to pay the heavy debt he had brought from Europe as the penalty of his "Fossil Fishes" and his investigations on the glaciers. When the school closed after eight years he was again a free man. With an increased salary from the college, and with such provision for the Museum (thanks to the generosity of the State and of individuals) as rendered it in a great degree independent, he was never again involved in the pecuniary anxieties of his earlier career. The occupation of teaching was so congenial to him that his part in the instruction of the school did not at any time weigh heavily upon him. He never had an audience more responsive and more eager to learn than the sixty or seventy girls who gathered every day at the close of the morning to hear his daily lecture; nor did he ever give to any audience lectures more carefully prepared, more comprehensive in their range of subjects, more lofty in their tone of thought. As a teacher he always discriminated between the special student, and the one to whom he cared to impart only such a knowledge of the facts of nature, as would make the world at least partially intelligible to him. To a school of young girls he did not think of teaching technical science, and yet the subjects of his lectures comprised very abstruse and comprehensive questions. It was the simplicity and clearness of his method which made them so interesting to his young listeners. "What I wish for you," he would say, "is a culture that is alive, active, susceptible of farther development. Do not think that I care to teach you this or the other special science. My instruction is only intended to show you the thoughts in nature which science reveals, and the facts I give you are useful only, or chiefly, for this object."
Running over the titles of his courses during several consecutive years of this school instruction they read: Physical Geography and Paleontology; Zoology; Botany; Coral Reefs; Glaciers; Structure and Formation of Mountains; Geographical Distribution of Animals; Geological Succession of Animals; Growth and Development of Animals; Philosophy of Nature, etc. With the help of drawings, maps, bas-reliefs, specimens, and countless illustrations on the blackboard, these subjects were made clear to the pupils, and the lecture hour was anticipated as the brightest of the whole morning. It soon became a habit with friends and neighbors, and especially with the mothers of the scholars, to drop in for the lectures, and thus the school audience was increased by a small circle of older listeners. The corps of teachers was also gradually enlarged. The neighborhood of the university was a great advantage in this respect, and Agassiz had the cooperation not only of his brother-in-law, Professor Felton, but of others among his colleagues, who took classes in special departments, or gave lectures in history and literature.
This school opened in 1855 and closed in 1863. The civil war then engrossed all thoughts, and interfered somewhat also with the success of private undertakings. Partly on this account, partly also because it had ceased to be a pecuniary necessity, it seemed wise to give up the school at this time. The friendly relations formed there did not, however, cease with it. For years afterward on the last Thursday of June (the day of the annual closing of the school) a meeting of the old pupils was held at the Museum, which did not exist when the school began, but was fully established before its close. There Agassiz showed them the progress of his scientific work, told them of his future plans for the institution, and closed with a lecture such as he used to give them in their school-days. The last of these meetings took place in 1873, the last year of his own life. The memory of it is connected with a gift to the Museum of four thousand and fifty dollars from a number of the scholars, now no longer girls, but women with their own cares and responsibilities. Hearing that there was especial need of means for the care of the more recent collections, they had subscribed this sum among themselves to express their affection for their old teacher, as well as their interest in his work, and in the institution he had founded. His letter of acknowledgment to the one among them who had acted as their treasurer makes a fitting close to this chapter.
. . .Hardly anything in my life has touched me more deeply than the gift I received this week from my school-girls. From no source in the world could sympathy be more genial to me. The money I shall appropriate to a long-cherished scheme of mine, a special work in the Museum which must be exclusively my own,—the arrangement of a special collection illustrating in a nutshell, as it were, all the relations existing among animals,—which I have deferred because other things were more pressing, and our means have been insufficient. The feeling that you are all working with me will be even more cheering than the material help, much needed as that is. I wish I could write to each individually. I shall try to find some means of expressing my thanks more widely. Meantime I write to you as treasurer, and beg you, as far as you can do so without too much trouble, to express my gratitude to others. Will you also say to those whom you chance to meet that I shall be at the Museum on the last Thursday of June, at half-past eleven o'clock. I shall be delighted to see all to whom it is convenient to come. The Museum has grown not only in magnitude, but in scientific significance, and I like from time to time to give you an account of its progress, and of my own work and aims. How much thought and care and effort this kind plan of yours must have involved, scattered as you all are! It cannot have been easy to collect the names and addresses of all those whose signatures it was delightful to me to see again. Words seem to me very poor, but you will accept for yourself and your school-mates the warm thanks and affectionate regards of your old friend and teacher.
"Contributions to Natural History of the United States."Remarkable Subscription.Review of the Work.Its Reception in Europe and America.Letters from Humboldt and Owen concerning it.Birthday.Longfellow's Verses.Laboratory at Nahant.Invitation to the Museum of Natural History in Paris.Founding of Museum of Comparative Zoology in Cambridge.Summer Vacation in Europe.
A few months earlier than the school circular Agassiz issued another prospectus, which had an even more important bearing upon his future work. This was the prospectus for his "Contributions to the Natural History of the United States." It was originally planned in ten volumes, every volume to be, however, absolutely independent, so that the completeness of each part should not be impaired by any possible interruption of the sequence. The mass of original material accumulated upon his hands ever since his arrival in America made such a publication almost imperative, but the costliness of a large illustrated work deterred him. The "Poissons Fossiles" had shown him the peril of entering upon such an enterprise without capital. Perhaps he would never have dared to undertake it but for a friendly suggestion which opened a way out of his perplexities. Mr. Francis C. Gray, of Boston, who felt not only the interest of a personal friend in the matter, but also that of one who was himself a lover of letters and science, proposed an appeal to the public spirit of the country in behalf of a work devoted entirely to the Natural History of the United States. Mr. Gray assumed the direction of the business details, set the subscription afloat, stimulated its success by his own liberal contributions, by letters, by private and public appeals. The result far exceeded the most sanguine expectations of those interested in its success. Indeed, considering the purely scientific character of the work, the number of subscribers for it was extraordinary, and showed again the hold Agassiz had taken upon the minds and affections of the people in general. The contributors were by no means confined to Boston and Cambridge, although the Massachusetts list was naturally the largest, nor were they found exclusively among literary and scientific circles. On the contrary, the subscription list, to the astonishment of the publishers, was increased daily by unsolicited names, sent in from all sections of the country, and from various grades of life and occupation. In reference to the character of this subscription Agassiz says in his Preface: "I must beg my European readers to remember that this work is written in America, and more especially for Americans; and that the community to which it is particularly addressed has very different wants from those of the reading public in Europe. There is not a class of learned men here distinct from the other cultivated members of the community. On the contrary, so general is the desire for knowledge, that I expect to see my book read by operatives, by fishermen, by farmers, quite as extensively as by the students in our colleges or by the learned professions, and it is but proper that I should endeavor to make myself understood by all." If Agassiz, perhaps, overestimated in this statement the appreciation of the reading public in the United States for pure scientific research, it was because the number and variety of his subscribers gave evidence of a cordiality toward his work which surprised as much as it gratified him. On the list there were also some of his old European subscribers to the "Poissons Fossiles," among them the King of Prussia, who still continued, under the influence of Humboldt, to feel an interest in his work.
September 1, 1856.
. . .I hear that by some untoward circumstances, no doubt accidental, you have never received, my dear Agassiz, the letter expressing the pleasure which I share with all true lovers of science respecting your important undertaking, "Contributions to the Natural History of the United States." You must have been astonished at my silence, remembering, not only the affectionate relations we have held to each other ever since your first sojourn at Paris, but also the admiration I have never ceased to feel for the great and solid works which we owe to your sagacious mind and your incomparable intellectual energy. . .I approve especially the general conceptions which lie at the base of the plan you have traced. I admire the long series of physiological investigations, beginning with the embryology of the so-called simple and lower organisms and ascending by degrees to the more complicated. I admire that ever-renewed comparison of the types belonging to our planet, in its present condition, with those now found only in a fossil state, so abundant in the immense space lying between the shores opposite to northern Europe and northern Asia. The geographical distribution of organic forms in curves of equal density of occupation represents in great degree the inflexions of the isothermal lines. . .I am charged by the king, who knows the value of your older works, and who still feels for you the affectionate regard which he formerly expressed in person, to request that you will place his name at the head of your long list of subscribers. He wishes that an excursion across the Atlantic valley may one day bring you, who have so courageously braved Alpine summits, to the historic hill of Sans Souci. . .
Something of Agassiz's astonishment and pleasure at the encouragement given to his projected work is told in his letters. To his old friend Professor Valenciennes, in Paris, he writes: "I have just had an evidence of what one may do here in the interest of science. Some six months ago I formed a plan for the publication of my researches in America, and determined to carry it out with all possible care and beauty of finish. I estimated my materials at ten volumes, quarto, and having fixed the price at 60 francs (12 dollars) a volume, thought I might, perhaps, dispose of five hundred. I brought out my prospectus, and I have to-day seventeen hundred subscribers. What do you say to that for a work which is to cost six hundred francs a copy, and of which nothing has as yet appeared? Nor is the list closed yet, for every day I receive new subscriptions,—this very morning one from California! Where will not the love of science find its niche!". . .
In the same strain he says, at a little later date, to Sir Charles Lyell: "You will, no doubt, be pleased to learn that the first volume of my new work, 'Contributions to the Natural History of the United States,' which is to consist of ten volumes, quarto, is now printing, to come out this summer. I hope it will show that I have not been idle during ten years' silence. I am somewhat anxious about the reception of my first chapter, headed, 'Classification,' which contains anything but what zoologists would generally expect under that head. The subscription is marvelous. Conceive twenty-one hundred names before the appearance of the first pages of a work costing one hundred and twenty dollars! It places in my hands the means of doing henceforth for Natural History what I had never dreamed of before.". . .
This work, as originally planned, was never completed. It was cut short by ill-health and by the pressure of engagements arising from the rapid development of the great Museum, which finally became, as will be seen, the absorbing interest of his life. As it stands, the "Contributions to the Natural History of the United States" consists of four large quarto volumes. The first two are divided into three parts, namely: 1st. An Essay on Classification. 2nd. The North American Testudinata. 3rd. The Embryology of the Turtle,—the latter two being illustrated by thirty-four plates. The third and fourth volumes are devoted to the Radiata, and consist of five parts, namely: 1st. Acalephs in general. 2nd. Ctenophorae. 3rd. Discophorae. 4th. Hydroida. 5th. Homologies of the Radiates, —illustrated by forty-six plates.* (* The plates are of rare accuracy and beauty, and were chiefly drawn by A. Sonrel, though many of the microscopic drawings were made by Professor H.J. Clark, who was at that time Agassiz's private assistant. For details respecting Professor Clark's share in this work, and also concerning the aid of various kinds furnished to the author during its preparation, the reader is referred to the Preface of the volumes themselves.)
For originality of material, clearness of presentation, and beauty of illustration, these volumes have had their full recognition as models of scientific work. Their philosophy was, perhaps, too much out of harmony with the current theories of the day to be acceptable. In the "Essay on Classification" especially, Agassiz brought out with renewed earnestness his conviction that the animal world rests upon certain abstract conceptions, persistent and indestructible. He insists that while physical influences maintain, and within certain limits modify, organisms, they have never affected typical structure,—those characters, namely, upon which the great groups of the animal kingdom are united. From his point of view, therefore, what environment can do serves to emphasize what it cannot do. For the argument on which these conclusions are based we refer to the book itself. The discussion of this question occupies, however, only the first portion of the volume, two thirds of which are devoted to a general consideration of classification, and the ideas which it embodies, with a review of the modern systems of zoology.
The following letter was one of many in the same tone received from his European correspondents concerning this work.
December 9, 1857.
. . .I cannot permit a day to elapse without thanking you for the two volumes of your great work on American zoology, which, from your masterly and exhaustive style of treatment, becomes the most important contribution to the right progress of zoological science in all parts of the world where progress permits its cultivation. It is worthy of the author of the classical work on fossil fishes; and such works, like the Cyclopean structures of antiquity, are built to endure. I feel and I beg to express a fervent hope that you may be spared in health and vigor to see the completion of your great plan.
I have placed in Mr. Trubner's hands a set of the numbers (6) of my "History of British Fossil Reptiles," which have already appeared; a seventh will soon be out, and as they will be sent to you in succession I hope you will permit me to make a small and inadequate return for your liberality in the gift of your work by adding your name to the list of my subscribers. . .
Believe me always truly yours,
Agassiz had promised himself that the first volume of his new work should be finished in time for his fiftieth birthday,—a milestone along the road, as it were, to mark his half century. Upon this self-appointed task he spent himself with the passion dominated by patience, which characterized him when his whole heart was bent toward an end. For weeks he wrote many hours of the day and a great part of the night, going out sometimes into the darkness and the open air to cool the fever of work, and then returning to his desk again. He felt himself that the excitement was too great, and in proportion to the strain was the relief when he set the seal of finis on his last page within the appointed time.
His special students, young men who fully shared his scientific life and rewarded his generosity by an affectionate devotion, knowing, perhaps, that he himself associated the completion of his book with his birthday, celebrated both events by a serenade on the eve of his anniversary. They took into their confidence Mr. Otto Dresel, warmly valued by Agassiz both as friend and musician, and he arranged their midnight programme for them. Always sure of finding their professor awake and at work at that hour, they stationed the musicians before the house, and as the last stroke of twelve sounded, the succeeding stillness was broken by men's voices singing a Bach choral. When Agassiz stepped out to see whence came this pleasant salutation, he was met by his young friends bringing flowers and congratulations. Then followed one number after another of the well-ordered selection, into which was admitted here and there a German student song in memory of Agassiz's own university life at Heidelberg and Munich. It was late, or rather early, since the new day was already begun, before the little concert was over and the guests had dispersed. It is difficult to reproduce with anything like its original glow and coloring a scene of this kind. It will no more be called back than the hour or the moonlight night which had the warmth and softness of June. It is recorded here only because it illustrates the intimate personal sympathy between Agassiz and his students.
For this occasion also were written the well-known birthday verses by Longfellow, which were read the next day at a dinner given to Agassiz by the "Saturday Club." In speaking of Longfellow's relation to this club, Holmes says "On one occasion he read a short poem at the table. It was in honor of Agassiz's birthday, and I cannot forget the very modest, delicate musical way in which he read his charming verses." Although included in many collections of Longfellow's Poems, they are reproduced here, because the story seems incomplete without them.
It was fifty years ago,In the pleasant month of May,In the beautiful Pays de Vaud,A child in its cradle lay.
And Nature, the old nurse, tookThe child upon her knee,Saying: "Here is a story-bookThy Father has written for thee."
"Come wander with me," she said,"Into regions yet untrod;And read what is still unreadIn the manuscripts of God."
And he wandered away and awayWith Nature, the dear old nurse,Who sang to him night and dayThe rhymes of the universe.
And whenever the way seemed long,Or his heart began to fail,She would sing a more wonderful song,Or tell a more marvelous tale.
So she keeps him still a child,And will not let him go,Though at times his heart beats wildFor the beautiful Pays de Vaud;
Though at times he hears in his dreamsThe Ranz des Vaches of old,And the rush of mountain streamsFrom glaciers clear and cold;
And the mother at home says, "Hark!For his voice I listen and yearn;It is growing late and dark,And my boy does not return!"
May 28, 1857.
Longfellow had an exquisite touch for occasions of this kind, whether serious or mirthful. Once, when some years after this Agassiz was keeping Christmas Eve with his children and grandchildren, there arrived a basket of wine containing six old bottles of rare vintage. They introduced themselves in a charming French "Noel" as pilgrims from beyond the sea who came to give Christmas greeting to the master of the house. Gay pilgrims were these six "gaillards," and they were accompanied by the following note:—
"A Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all the house of Agassiz!
"I send also six good wishes in the shape of bottles. Or is it wine?
"It is both; good wine and good wishes, and kind memories of you on this Christmas Eve."
An additional word about the "Saturday Club," the fame of which has spread beyond the city of its origin, may not be amiss here. Notwithstanding his close habits of work Agassiz was eminently social, and to this club he was especially attached. Dr. Holmes says of it in his volume on Emerson, who was one of its most constant members: "At one end of the table sat Longfellow, florid, quiet, benignant, soft-voiced, a most agreeable rather than a brilliant talker, but a man upon whom it was always pleasant to look,—whose silence was better than many another man's conversation. At the other end sat Agassiz, robust, sanguine, animated, full of talk, boy-like in his laughter. The stranger who should have asked who were the men ranged along the sides of the table would have heard in answer the names of Hawthorne, Motley, Dana, Lowell, Whipple, Peirce, the distinguished mathematician, Judge Hoar, eminent at the bar and in the cabinet, Dwight, the leading musical critic of Boston for a whole generation, Sumner, the academic champion of freedom, Andrew, 'the great War Governor' of Massachusetts, Dr. Howe, the philanthropist, William Hunt, the painter, with others not unworthy of such company." We may complete the list and add the name of Holmes himself, to whose presence the club owed so much of its wit and wisdom. In such company the guests were tempted to linger long, and if Holmes has described the circle around the table, Lowell has celebrated the late walk at night across the bridge as he and Agassiz returned to Cambridge on foot together. To break the verse by quotation would mar the quiet scene and interrupt the rambling pleasant talk it so graphically describes. But we may keep the parting words:
"At last, arrived at where our paths divide,'Good night!' and, ere the distance grew too wide, 'Good night!' again; and now with cheated ear I half hear his who mine shall never hear."
(* See Memorial poem, entitled "Agassiz", by James Russell Lowell.)
Agassiz was now the possessor of a small laboratory by the immediate sea-coast. It was situated on the northeastern shore of Nahant, within a stone's throw of broken and bold rocks, where the deep pools furnished him with ever fresh specimens from natural aquariums which were re-stocked at every rise of the tide. This laboratory, with a small cottage adjoining, which was shared during the summer between his own family and that of Professor Felton, was the gift of his father-in-law, Mr. Cary. So carefully were his wishes considered that the microscope table stood on a flat rock sunk in the earth and detached from the floor, in order that no footstep or accidental jarring of door or window in other parts of the building might disturb him at his work.
There, summer after summer, he pursued his researches on the medusae; from the smaller and more exquisite kinds, such as the Pleurobrachyias, Idyias, and Bolinas, to the massive Cyaneas, with their large disks and heavy tentacles, many yards in length. Nothing can be prettier than the smaller kinds of jellyfishes. Their structure is so delicate, yet so clearly defined, their color so soft, yet often so brilliant, their texture so transparent, that you seek in vain among terrestrial forms for terms of comparison, and are tempted to say that nature has done her finest work in the sea rather than on land. Sometimes hundreds of these smaller medusae might be seen floating together in the deep glass bowls, or jars, or larger vessels with which Agassiz's laboratory at Nahant was furnished. When the supply was exhausted, new specimens were easily to be obtained by a row in a dory a mile or two from shore, either in the hot, still noon, when the jelly-fish rise toward the surface, or at night, over a brilliantly phosphorescent sea, when they are sure to be abundant, since they themselves furnish much of the phosphorescence. In these little excursions, many new and interesting things came to his nets beside those he was seeking. The fishermen, also, were his friends and coadjutors. They never failed to bring him whatever of rare or curious fell into their hands, sometimes even turning aside from their professional calling to give the laboratory preference over the market.
Neither was his summer work necessarily suspended during winter, his Cambridge and Nahant homes being only about fifteen miles distant from each other. He writes to his friends, the Holbrooks, at this time, "You can hardly imagine what a delightful place Nahant is for me now. I can trace the growth of my little marine animals all the year round without interruption, by going occasionally over there during the winter. I have at this moment young medusae budding from their polyp nurses, which I expect to see freeing themselves in a few weeks." In later years, when his investigations on the medusae were concluded, so far as any teaching from the open book of Nature can be said to be concluded, he pursued here, during a number of years, investigations upon the sharks and skates. For this work, which should have made one of the series of "Contributions," he left much material, unhappily not ready for publication.
In August, 1857, Agassiz received the following letter from M.Rouland, Minister of Public Instruction in France.
PARIS, August 19, 1857.
By the decease of M. d'Orbigny the chair of paleontology in the Museum of Natural History in Paris becomes vacant. You are French; you have enriched your native country by your eminent works and laborious researches. You are a corresponding member of the Institute. The emperor would gladly recall to France a savant so distinguished. In his name I offer you the vacant chair, and should congratulate your country on the return of a son who has shown himself capable of such devotion to science.
Accept the assurance of my highest esteem,
Had it been told to Agassiz when he left Europe that in ten years he should be recalled to fill one of the coveted places at the Jardin des Plantes, the great centre of scientific life and influence in France, he would hardly have believed himself capable of refusing it. Nor does a man reject what would once have seemed to him a great boon without a certain regret. Such momentary regret he felt perhaps, but not an instant of doubt. His answer expressed his gratitude and his pleasure in finding himself so remembered in Europe. He pleaded his work in America as his excuse for declining a position which he nevertheless considered the most brilliant that could be offered to a naturalist. In conclusion he adds: "Permit me to correct an error concerning myself. I am not French, although of French origin. My family has been Swiss for centuries, and spite of my ten years' exile I am Swiss still."
The correspondence did not end here. A few months later the offer was courteously renewed by M. Rouland, with the express condition that the place should remain open for one or even two years to allow time for the completion of the work Agassiz had now on hand. To this second appeal he could only answer that his work here was the work not of years, but of his life, and once more decline the offer. That his refusal was taken in good part is evident from the fact that the order of the Legion of Honor was sent to him soon after, and that from time to time he received friendly letters from the Minister of Public Instruction, who occasionally consulted him upon general questions of scientific moment.
This invitation excited a good deal of interest among Agassiz's old friends in Europe. Some urged him to accept it, others applauded his resolve to remain out of the great arena of competition and ambition. Among the latter was Humboldt. The following extract is from a letter of his (May 9, 1858) to Mr. George Ticknor, of Boston, who had been one of Agassiz's kindest and best friends in America from the moment of his arrival. "Agassiz's large and beautiful work (the first two volumes) reached me a few days since. It will produce a great effect both by the breadth of its general views and by the extreme sagacity of its special embryological observations. I have never believed that this illustrious man, who is also a man of warm heart, a noble soul, would accept the generous offers made to him from Paris. I knew that gratitude would keep him in the new country, where he finds such an immense territory to explore, and such liberal aid in his work."
In writing of this offer to a friend Agassiz himself says: "On one side, my cottage at Nahant by the sea-shore, the reef of Florida, the vessels of the Coast Survey at my command from Nova Scotia to Mexico, and, if I choose, all along the coast of the Pacific,—and on the other, the Jardin des Plantes, with all its accumulated treasures. Rightly considered, the chance of studying nature must prevail over the attractions of the (Paris) Museum. I hope I shall be wise enough not to be tempted even by the prospect of a new edition of the 'Poissons Fossiles.'"
To his old friend Charles Martins, the naturalist, he writes: "The work I have undertaken here, and the confidence shown in me by those who have at heart the intellectual development of this country, make my return to Europe impossible for the present; and, as you have well understood, I prefer to build anew here rather than to fight my way in the midst of the coteries of Paris. Were I offered absolute power for the reorganization of the Jardin des Plantes, with a revenue of fifty thousand francs, I should not accept it. I like my independence better."
The fact that Agassiz had received and declined this offer from the French government seemed to arouse anew the public interest in his projects and prospects here. It was felt that a man who was ready to make an alliance so uncompromising with the interests of science in the United States should not be left in a precarious and difficult position. His collections were still heaped together in a slight wooden building. The fact that a great part of them were preserved in alcohol made them especially in danger from fire. A spark, a match carelessly thrown down, might destroy them all in half an hour, for with material so combustible, help would be unavailing. This fear was never out of his mind. It disturbed his peace by day and his rest by night. That frail structure, crowded from garret to cellar with seeming rubbish, with boxes, cases, barrels, casks still unpacked and piled one above the other, held for him the treasure out of which he would give form and substance to the dream of his boyhood and the maturer purpose of his manhood. The hope of creating a great museum intelligently related in all its parts, reflecting nature, and illustrating the history of the animal kingdom in the past and the present, had always tempted his imagination. Nor was it merely as a comprehensive and orderly collection that he thought of it. From an educational point of view it had an even greater value for him. His love of teaching prompted him no less than his love of science. Indeed, he hoped to make his ideal museum a powerful auxiliary in the interests of the schools and teachers throughout the State, and less directly throughout the country. He hoped it would become one of the centres for the radiation of knowledge, and that the investigations carried on within its walls would find means of publication, and be a fresh, original contribution to the science of the day. This hope was fully realized. The first number of the Museum Bulletin was published in March, 1863, the first number of the Illustrated Catalogue in 1864, and both publications have been continued with regularity ever since.* (* At the time of Agassiz's death nearly three volumes of the Bulletin had been published, and the third volume of the "Memoirs" (Illustrated Catalogue Number 7) had been begun.)
In laying out the general plan, which was rarely absent from his thought, he distinguished between the demands which the specialist and the general observer might make upon an institution intended to instruct and benefit both. Here the special student should find in the laboratories and work rooms all the needed material for his investigations, stored in large collections, with duplicates enough to allow for that destruction of specimens which is necessarily involved in original research. The casual visitor meanwhile should walk through exhibition rooms, not simply crowded with objects to delight and interest him, but so arranged that the selection of every specimen should have reference to its part and place in nature; while the whole should be so combined as to explain, so far as known, the faunal and systematic relations of animals in the actual world, and in the geological formations; or, in other words, their succession in time, and their distribution in space.
A favorite part of his plan was a room which he liked to call his synoptic room. Here was to be the most compact and yet the fullest statement in material form of the animal kingdom as a whole, an epitome of the creation, as it were. Of course the specimens must be few in so limited a space, but each one was to be characteristic of one or other of the various groups included under every large division. Thus each object would contribute to the explanation of the general plan. On the walls there were to be large, legible inscriptions, serving as a guide to the whole, and making this room a simple but comprehensive lesson in natural history. It was intended to be the entrance room for visitors, and to serve as an introduction to the more detailed presentation of the same vast subject, given by the faunal and systematic collections in the other exhibition rooms.
The standard of work involved in this scheme is shown in many of his letters to his students and assistants, to whom he looked for aid in its execution. To one he writes: "You will get your synoptic series only after you have worked up in detail the systematic collection as a whole, the faunal collections in their totality, the geological sequence of the entire group under consideration, as well as its embryology and geographical distribution. Then alone will you be able to know the representatives in each series which will best throw light upon it and complete the other series."
He did not live to fill in this comprehensive outline with the completeness which he intended, but all its details were fully explained by him before his death, and since that time have been carried out by his son, Alexander Agassiz. The synoptic room, and in great part the systematic and faunal collections, are now arranged and under exhibition, and the throngs of visitors during all the pleasant months of the year attest the interest they excite.
This conception, of which the present Museum is the expression, was matured in the brain of the founder before a brick of the building was laid, or a dollar provided for the support of such an institution. It existed for him as his picture does for the artist before it lives upon the canvas. One must have been the intimate companion of his thoughts to know how and to what degree it possessed his imagination, to his delight always, yet sometimes to his sorrow also, for he had it and he had it not. The thought alone was his; the means of execution were far beyond his reach.
His plan was, however, known to many of his friends, and especially he had explained it to Mr. Francis C. Gray, whose intellectual sympathy made him a delightful listener to the presentation of any enlightened purpose. In 1858 Mr. Gray died, leaving in his will the sum of fifty thousand dollars for the establishment of a Museum of Comparative Zoology, with the condition that this sum should be used neither for the erection of buildings nor for salaries, but for the purely scientific needs of such an institution. Though this bequest was not connected in set terms with the collections already existing in Cambridge, its purpose was well understood; and Mr. Gray's nephew, Mr. William Gray, acting upon the intention of his uncle as residuary legatee, gave it into the hands of the President and Fellows of Harvard University. In passing over this trust, the following condition, among others, was made, namely: "That neither the collections nor any building which may contain the same shall ever be designated by any other name than the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard." This is worth noting, because the title was chosen and insisted upon by Agassiz himself in opposition to many who would have had it called after him. To such honor as might be found in connecting his own name with a public undertaking of any kind he was absolutely indifferent. It was characteristic of him to wish, on the contrary, that the name should be as impersonal and as comprehensive as the uses and aims of the institution itself. Yet he could not wholly escape the distinction he deprecated. The popular imagination, identifying him with his work, has re-christened the institution; and, spite of its legal title, its familiar designation is almost invariably the "Agassiz Museum."
Mr. Gray's legacy started a movement which became every day more active and successful. The university followed up his bequest by a grant of land suitable for the site of the building, and since the Gray fund provided for no edifice, an appeal was made to the Legislature of Massachusetts to make good that deficiency. The Legislature granted lands to the amount of one hundred thousand dollars, on condition that a certain additional contribution should be made by private subscription. The sum of seventy-one thousand one hundred and twenty-five dollars, somewhat exceeding that stipulated, was promptly subscribed, chiefly by citizens of Boston and Cambridge, and Agassiz himself gave all the collections he had brought together during the last four or five years, estimated, merely by the outlay made upon them, at ten thousand dollars. The architects, Mr. Henry Greenough and Mr. George Snell, offered the plan as their contribution. The former had long been familiar with Agassiz's views respecting the internal arrangements of the building. The main features had been discussed between them, and now, that the opportunity offered, the plan was practically ready for execution. These events followed each other so rapidly that although Mr. Gray's bequest was announced only in December, 1858, the first sod was turned and the corner-stone of the future Museum was laid on a sunny afternoon in the following June, 1859.* (* The plan, made with reference to the future increase as well as the present needs of the Museum, included a main building 364 feet in length by 64 in width, with wings 205 feet in length by 64 in width, the whole enclosing a hollow square. The structure erected 1859-60 was but a section of the north wing, being two fifths of its whole length. This gave ample space at the time for the immediate requirements of the Museum. Additions have since been made, and the north wing is completed, while the Peabody Museum occupies a portion of the ground allotted to the south wing.)
This event, so full of significance for Agassiz, took place a few days before he sailed for Europe, having determined to devote the few weeks of the college and school vacation to a flying visit in Switzerland. The incidents of this visit were of a wholly domestic nature and hardly belong here. He paused a few days in Ireland and England to see his old friends, the Earl of Enniskillen and Sir Philip Egerton, and review their collections. A day or two in London gave him, in like manner, a few hours at the British Museum, a day with Owen at Richmond, and an opportunity to greet old friends and colleagues called together to meet him at Sir Roderick Murchison's. He allowed himself also a week in Paris, made delightful by the cordiality and hospitality of the professors of the Jardin des Plantes, and by the welcome he received at the Academy, when he made his appearance there. The happiest hours of this brief sojourn in Paris were perhaps spent with his old and dear friend Valenciennes, the associate of earlier days in Paris, when the presence of Cuvier and Humboldt gave a crowning interest to scientific work there.
From Paris he hastened on to his mother in Switzerland, devoting to her and to his immediate family all the time which remained to him before returning to his duties in Cambridge. They were very happy weeks, passed, for the most part, in absolute retirement, at Montagny, near the foot of the Jura, where Madame Agassiz was then residing with her daughter. The days were chiefly spent in an old-fashioned garden, where a corner shut in by ivy and shaded by trees made a pleasant out-of-door sitting-room. There he told his mother, as he had never been able to tell her in letters, of his life and home in the United States, and of the Museum to which he was returning, and which was to give him the means of doing for the study of nature all he had ever hoped to accomplish. His quiet stay here was interrupted only by a visit of a few days to his sister at Lausanne, and a trip to the Diablerets, where his brother, then a great invalid, was staying. He also passed a day or two at Geneva, where he was called to a meeting of the Helvetic Society, which gave him an opportunity of renewing old ties of friendship, as well as scientific relations, with the naturalists of his own country, with Pictet de la Rive, de Candolle, Favre, and others.
Return to Cambridge.Removal of Collection to New Museum Building.Distribution of Work.Relations with his Students.Breaking out of the War between North and South.Interest of Agassiz in the Preservation of the Union.Commencement of Museum Publications.Reception of Third and Fourth Volumes of "Contributions."Copley Medal.General Correspondence.Lecturing Tour in the West.Circular Letter concerning Anthropological Collections.Letter to Mr. Ticknor concerning Geographical Distribution of Fishesin Spain.
On his return to Cambridge at the end of September, Agassiz found the Museum building well advanced. It was completed in the course of the next year, and the dedication took place on the 13th November, 1860. The transfer of the collections to their new and safe abode was made as rapidly as possible, and the work of developing the institution under these more favorable conditions moved steadily on. The lecture rooms were at once opened, not only to students but to other persons not connected with the university. Especially welcome were teachers of schools for whom admittance was free. It was a great pleasure to Agassiz thus to renew and strengthen his connection with the teachers of the State, with whom, from the time of his arrival in this country, he had held most cordial relations, attending the Teachers' Institutes, visiting the normal schools, and associating himself actively, as far as he could, with the interests of public education in Massachusetts. From this time forward his college lectures were open to women as well as to men. He had great sympathy with the desire of women for larger and more various fields of study and work, and a certain number of women have always been employed as assistants at the Museum.
The story of the next three years was one of unceasing but seemingly uneventful work. The daylight hours from nine or ten o'clock in the morning were spent, with the exception of the hour devoted to the school, at the Museum, not only in personal researches and in lecturing, but in organizing, distributing, and superintending the work of the laboratories, all of which was directed by him. Passing from bench to bench, from table to table, with a suggestion here, a kindly but scrutinizing glance there, he made his sympathetic presence felt by the whole establishment. No man ever exercised a more genial personal influence over his students and assistants. His initiatory steps in teaching special students of natural history were not a little discouraging. Observation and comparison being in his opinion the intellectual tools most indispensable to the naturalist, his first lesson was one in LOOKING. He gave no assistance; he simply left his student with the specimen, telling him to use his eyes diligently, and report upon what he saw. He returned from time to time to inquire after the beginner's progress, but he never asked him a leading question, never pointed out a single feature of the structure, never prompted an inference or a conclusion. This process lasted sometimes for days, the professor requiring the pupil not only to distinguish the various parts of the animal, but to detect also the relation of these details to more general typical features. His students still retain amusing reminiscences of their despair when thus confronted with their single specimen; no aid to be had from outside until they had wrung from it the secret of its structure. But all of them have recognized the fact that this one lesson in looking, which forced them to such careful scrutiny of the object before them, influenced all their subsequent habits of observation, whatever field they might choose for their special subject of study. One of them who was intending to be an entomologist concludes a very clever and entertaining account of such a first lesson, entirely devoted to a single fish, with these words: "This was the best entomological lesson I ever had,—a lesson whose influence has extended to the details of every subsequent study; a legacy the professor has left to me, as he left it to many others, of inestimable value, which we could not buy, with which we could not part."* (* "In the Laboratory with Agassiz", by S.H. Scudder.)
But if Agassiz, in order to develop independence and accuracy of observation, threw his students on their own resources at first, there was never a more generous teacher in the end than he. All his intellectual capital was thrown open to his pupils. His original material, his unpublished investigations, his most precious specimens, his drawings and illustrations were at their command. This liberality led in itself to a serviceable training, for he taught them to use with respect the valuable, often unique, objects intrusted to their care. Out of the intellectual good-fellowship which he established and encouraged in the laboratory grew the warmest relations between his students and himself. Many of them were deeply attached to him, and he was extremely dependent upon their sympathy and affection. By some among them he will never be forgotten. He is still their teacher and their friend, scarcely more absent from their work now than when the glow of his enthusiasm made itself felt in his personal presence.