INTERIOR OF THE LABORATORY. 81 



all of the sort which form the "summer reading" of the publishers, yet 

 costly and precious, for each one is the monument of months or years 

 of patient labor, and lays bare a little corner of the globe's history un- 

 seen before. These plain books are all laid on their sides to prevent 

 their warping. Among them are portfolios full of original drawings 

 and manuscript notes that have grown out of the studies of the master 

 and his. students, which are left for years to season under the watchful 

 experience which shall confirm or condemn their presumed truth before 

 the test of publication is risked. 



The rest of the glass shelving on the south wall is covered with glass 

 dishes of all kinds. Room is precious, so the cupboards have doors of 

 slate which, when shut, form a black-board (every working and teach- 

 ing naturalist must of necessity be a pretty good draughtsman, both with 

 pencil and chalk); and there are everywhere hooks and' other devices 

 for convenience. 



The eastern and western ends of the room have' windows so guarded 

 by shutters as to exclude the light but admit a cool breeze ; but the north 

 wall is full of long windows, having only space between for five tables, 

 which (though there are two, extra ones in the corners) limit the nunv 

 ber of persons who can work at one time. This north light is excellent, 

 the bay reflecting it, while the grassy plat near by prevents any glare. 

 Across each window may be placed a movable shelf, fixed at any height, 

 on which a glass jar may be set between the observer and the light, in 

 such a way that, the motions of any little creatures in this improvised 

 aquarium can be seen with great plainness. 



It would seem as though a building so well constructed as this, and 

 founded upon the granite core of the primitive globe, was solid enough ; 

 but microscopists — and the men who work here are nearly all micrbscop- 

 ists — will tell you that their instruments are sensitive to a jar which the 

 most acute of our nerves would fail to perceive, and that the least tremble 

 is sufficient to disturb that precise focus upon the keeping of which the 

 success of. an observation depends. Independent of his foundations, 

 therefore, Mr. Agassiz has built a line of massive arches, nowhere touched 

 by the floors or walls of the building. . It is upon these arches that the 

 working tables and the little three-cornered microscope stools stand, feel- 

 ing the shock of no gale that may beat against the house, nor the tremor 

 of any footfall upon the floor. 



The tables are not of large size — about like a library desk — but are 

 firmly constructed and serviceable. They are covered with English 

 glazed tiles — white, except two black rows at the end, furnishing opposite 



