HAECKEL AND THE NEW ZOOLOGY 



street-level. Entering it, your eye is first caught by a 

 set of simple panels in the wall opposite the door bear- 

 ing six illustrious names: Aristotle, Linne, Lamarck, 

 Cuvier, Miiller, Darwin a Greek, a Swede, two 

 Frenchmen, a German, and an Englishman. Such a 

 list is significant; it tells of the cosmopolitan spirit 

 that here holds sway. 



The ground-floor of the building is occupied by a 

 lecture-room and by the zoological collection. The 

 latter is a good working-collection, and purports to be 

 nothing else. Of course it does not for a moment com- 

 pare with the collections of the museums in any large 

 city of Europe or America, nor indeed is it numerically 

 comparable with many private collections, or collec- 

 tions of lesser colleges in America. Similarly, when 

 one mounts the stairs and enters the laboratory proper, 

 he finds a room of no great dimensions and nowise 

 startling in its appointments. It is admirably lighted, 

 to be sure, and in all respects suitably equipped for its 

 purpose, but it is by no means so large or so luxurious 

 as the average college laboratory of America. In- 

 deed, it is not to be mentioned in the same breath with 

 the laboratories of a score or two of our larger colleges. 

 Yet, with Haeckel here, it is unquestionably the finest 

 laboratory in which to study zoology that exists in the 

 world to-day, or has existed for the last third of a 

 century. 



Haeckel himself is domiciled, when not instructing 

 his classes, in a comfortable but plain room across the 

 hall a room whose windows look out across the valley 

 of the Saale on an exquisite mountain landscape, with 

 the clear-cut mountain that Schiller's lines made fa- 



