The Ibicuhy is a pretty little war steamer of 120 horse power,

carrying six thirty-two pound guns. On board of her, and in company

with the President of the Province, I have already visited that

extraordinary network of river anastomoses and lakes, stretching

between the river Madeira and the Amazons to the river Tapajos, and

now I am ascending the Rio Negro, with the intention of going up as

far as the junction of the Rio Branco with the Rio Negro. That the

Brazilian government should be able and willing to offer such

facilities for the benefit of science, during a time of war, when

all the resources of the nation are called upon in order to put an

end to the barbarism of Paraguay, is a most significant sign of the

tendencies prevailing in the administration. There can be no doubt

that the emperor is the soul of the whole. This liberality has

enabled me to devote all my resources to the making of collections,

and the result of my researches has, of course, been proportionate

to the facilities I have enjoyed. Thus far, the whole number of

fishes known from the Amazons has amounted to a little over one

hundred, counting everything that may exist from these waters, in

the Jardin des Plantes, the British Museum, the museums of Munich,

Berlin, Vienna, etc.; while I have collected and now hold, in good

state of preservation, fourteen hundred and forty-two species, and

may get a few hundred more before returning to Para. I have so many

duplicates that I may make every other museum tributary to ours, so

far as the fresh-water animals of Brazil are concerned. This may

seem very unimportant to a statesman. But I am satisfied that it

affords a standard by which to estimate the resources of Brazil, as

they may be hereafter developed. The basin of the Amazons is

another Mississippi, having a tropical climate, tempered by

moisture. Here is room for a hundred million happy human beings.

Ever truly your friend,

L. AGASSIZ.

The repose of the return voyage, after sixteen months of such

uninterrupted work, and of fresh impressions daily crowding upon

each other, was most grateful to Agassiz. The summary of this

delightful journey may close as it began with a letter to his

mother.

AT SEA, July 7, 1866.

DEAR MOTHER,

When you receive this letter we shall be, I hope, at Nahant, where

our children and grandchildren are waiting for us. To-morrow we

shall stop at Pernambuco, where I shall mail my letter to you by a

French steamer.

I leave Brazil with great regret. I have passed nearly sixteen

months in the uninterrupted enjoyment of this incomparable tropical

nature, and I have learned many things which have enlarged my range

of thought, both concerning organized beings and concerning the

structure of the earth. I have found traces of glaciers under this

burning sky; a proof that our earth has undergone changes of

temperature more considerable than even our most advanced

glacialists have dared to suggest. Imagine, if you can, floating

ice under the equator, such as now exists on the coasts of

Greenland, and you will probably have an approximate idea of the

aspect of the Atlantic Ocean at that epoch.

It is, however, in the basin of the Amazons especially, that my

researches have been crowned with an unexpected success. Spix and

Martius, for whose journey I wrote, as you doubtless remember, my

first work on fishes, brought back from there some fifty species,

and the sum total known now, taking the results of all the

travelers who have followed up the inquiry, does not amount to two

hundred. I had hoped, in making fishes the special object of my

researches, to add perhaps a hundred more. You will understand my

surprise when I rapidly obtained five or six hundred, and finally,

on leaving Para, brought away nearly two thousand,--that is to say,

ten times more than were known when I began my journey.* (* This

estimate was made in the field when close comparison of specimens

from distant localities was out of the question. The whole

collection has never been worked up, and it is possible that the

number of new species it contains, though undoubtedly greatly in

excess of those previously known from the Amazons, may prove to be

less than was at first supposed.--ED.) A great part of this success

is due to the unusual facilities granted me by the Brazilian

government. . .To the Emperor of Brazil I owe the warmest

gratitude. His kindness to me has been beyond all bounds. . .He

even made for me, while he was with the army last summer, a

collection of fishes from the province of Rio Grande du Sud. This

collection would do honor to a professional naturalist. . .

Good-by, dear mother.

With all my heart,

YOUR LOUIS.

The following letter from old Professor Martius in Munich, of

uncertain date, but probably in answer to one of March, 1866, is

interesting, as connecting this journey with his own Brazilian

expedition almost half a century before.

FROM PROFESSOR MARTIUS.

February 26, 1867.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Your letter of March 20th last year was most gratifying to me as a

token of your affectionate remembrance. You will easily believe

that I followed your journey on the Amazons with the greatest

interest, and without any alloy of envy, though your expedition was

undertaken forty years later than mine, and under circumstances so

much more favorable. Bates, who lived for years in that country,

has borne me witness that I was not wanting in courage and industry

during an exploration which lasted eleven months; and I therefore

believe that you also, in reviewing on the spot my description of

the journey, will not have passed an unfavorable judgment. Our

greatest difficulty was the small size of our boat which was so

weak as to make the crossing of the river always dangerous. I shall

look forward with great pleasure to the more detailed account of

your journey, and also the plan of your route, which I hope you

will send me. Can you tell me anything about the human skeletons at

the Rio St. Antonio in St. Paul? I am very glad to know that you

have paid especial attention to the palms, and I entreat you to

send me the essential parts of every species which you hold to be

new, because I wish to work out the palms for the Flora

Brasiliensis this year. I wish I might find among them some new

genus or species, which then should bear your name.

Do you intend to publish an account of your journey, or shall you

confine yourself entirely to a report on your observations on

Natural History? With a desire to explain the numerous names of

animals, plants, and places, which are derived from the Tupee

language, I have studied it for years that I might be able to use

it fluently. Perhaps you have seen my "Glossaria lignareus

brasiliensium." It contains also 1150 names of animals. To this

work belong, likewise, my ethnographical contributions, of which

forty-five sheets are already printed, to be published I hope next

year. I am curious to hear your geological conclusions. I am myself

inclined to the belief that men existed in South America previous

to the latest geological catastrophes. As you have seen so many

North American Indians, you will be able to give interesting

explanations of their somatic relations to the South American

Indians. Why could you not send me, as secretary of the

mathematical and physical section, a short report of your principal

results? It would then be printed in the report of our meetings,

which, as the forerunner of other publications, could hardly fail

to be agreeable to you. You no doubt see our friend Asa Gray

occasionally. Remember me cordially to him, and tell him I look

eagerly for an answer to my last letter. The year 'sixty-six has

taken from us many eminent botanists, Gusone, Mettenius, Von

Schlechtendal, and Fresenius. I hear but rarely from our excellent

friend Alexander Braun. He does not resist the approach of old age

so well as you, my dear friend. You are still the active

naturalist, fresh and well preserved, to judge by your photograph.

Thank you for it; I send mine in return. My wife still holds in

warm remembrance the days when you, a bright, pleasant young

fellow, used to come and see us,--what a long stretch of time lies

between. Much is changed about me. Of former friends only Kobell

and Vogel remain; Zuccarini, Wagner, Oken, Schelling, Sieber,

Fuchs, Walther,--all these have gone home. All the pleasanter is it

that you, on the other side of the ocean, think sometimes of your

old friend, to whom a letter from you will be always welcome.

Remember me to your family, though I am not known to them. May the

present year bring you health, cheerfulness, and the full enjoyment

of your great and glorious success.

With warm esteem and friendship, always yours,

MARTIUS.

Agassiz arrived in Cambridge toward the end of August, 1866. After

the first excitement of meeting family and friends was over, he

took up his college and museum work again. He had left for Brazil

at the close of a course before the Lowell Institute, and his first

public appearance after his return was on the same platform. The

rush for tickets was far in excess of the supply, and he was

welcomed with the most ardent enthusiasm. It continued unabated to

the close, although the lectures borrowed no interest from personal

adventure or incidents of travel, but dealt almost wholly with the

intellectual results and larger scientific generalizations growing

out of the expedition. Later in the winter he gave a course also at

the Cooper Institute, in New York, which awakened the same interest

and drew crowds of listeners. The resolution offered by Bancroft,

the historian, at the close of the course, gives an idea of its

character, and coming from such a source, may not unfitly be

transcribed here.

RESOLVED, That the thanks of this great assembly of delighted

hearers be given to the illustrious Professor Agassiz, for the

fullness of his instruction, for the clearness of his method of

illustration, for his exposition of the idea as antecedent to form;

of the superiority of the undying, original, and eternal force over

its transient manifestations; for happy hours which passed too

rapidly away; for genial influences of which the memory will last

through our lives.

All his leisure hours during the winter of 1867 were given to the

review and arrangement of the great collections he had brought

home.

TO SIR PHILIP DE GREY EGERTON.

MUSEUM OF COMPARATIVE ZOOLOGY, CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS., March 26,

1867.

I know you will be pleased to hear that I have returned to the

study of fishes, and that I am not likely to give it up again for

years to come. My success in collecting in the Amazons has been so

unexpected that it will take me years to give an account of what I

have found, and I am bound to show that the strange statements that

have gone abroad are strictly correct. Yes, I have about eighteen

hundred new species of fishes from the basin of the Amazons! The

collection is now in Cambridge, for the most part in good

preservation. It suggests at once the idea that either the other

rivers of the world have been very indifferently explored, or that

tropical America nourishes a variety of animals unknown to other

regions. In this dilemma it would be worth while to send some

naturalist to investigate the Ganges or the Bramaputra, or some of

the great Chinese rivers. Can it not be done by order of the

British government?

Please send me whatever you may publish upon the fossil fishes in

your possession. I frequently sigh for another session in your

museum, and it is not improbable that I shall solicit an invitation

from you in a few years, in order to revise my views of the whole

subject in connection with what I am now learning of the living

fishes. By the way, I have eleven hundred colored drawings of the

species of Brazil made from life by my old friend Burkhardt, who

accompanied me on this journey.

My recent studies have made me more adverse than ever to the new

scientific doctrines which are flourishing now in England. This

sensational zeal reminds me of what I experienced as a young man in

Germany, when the physio-philosophy of Oken had invaded every

centre of scientific activity; and yet, what is there left of it? I

trust to outlive this mania also. As usual, I do not ask beforehand

what you think of it, and I may have put my hand into a hornet's

nest; but you know your old friend Agass, and will forgive him if

he hits a tender spot. . .

The summer of 1867 was passed very tranquilly at his Nahant

laboratory, in that quiet work with his specimens and his

microscope which pleased him best. The following letter to

Professor Benjamin Peirce, who was then Superintendent of the Coast

Survey, shows, however, his unfailing interest in the bearing of

scientific researches on questions of public utility.

TO PROFESSOR PEIRCE, SUPERINTENDENT OF THE COAST SURVEY.

NAHANT, September 11, 1867.

DEAR SIR,

Far from considering your request a tax upon my time, it gives me

the greatest pleasure to have an opportunity of laying before you

some statements and reflections, which I trust may satisfy you that

geology and natural history can be made subservient to the great

interests of a civilized community, to a far greater extent than is

generally admitted.

The question of the harbor of Boston, for instance, has a

geological and zoological side, thus far only indirectly

considered. In order to ascertain whence the materials are derived

which accumulate in the harbor, the shores ought to be studied

geologically with a kind of accuracy and minuteness, never required

by geological surveys made for economical purposes. The banks of

the harbor, wherever it is not rock-bound, consist of drift, which

itself rests upon the various rock formations of the district. Now

this drift, as I have ascertained, formerly extended many miles

beyond our present shores, and is still slowly washed away by the

action of tides, winds, and currents. Until you know with precision

the mineralogical composition of the drift of the immediate

vicinity, so accurately indeed as to be able to recognize it in any

new combination into which it may be brought when carried off by

the sea, all your examination of soundings may be of little use.

Should it, however, be ascertained that the larger amount of loose

material spreading over the harbor is derived from some one or

other of the drift islands in the bay, the building of sea-walls to

stop the denudation may be of greater and more immediate use than

any other operation. Again, it is geologically certain that all the

drift islands of the harbor have been formed by the encroachment of

the sea upon a sheet of drift, which once extended in unbroken

continuity from Cape Ann to Cape Cod and farther south. This sheet

of drift is constantly diminishing, and in centuries to come,

which, notwithstanding the immeasurable duration of geological

periods, may be reached, I trust, while the United States still

remains a flourishing empire, it will be removed still further; so

far indeed, that I foresee the time when the whole peninsula of

Cape Cod shall disappear. Under these circumstances, it is the duty

of a wise administration to establish with precision the rate and

the extent of this destruction, that the coming generations may be

forewarned. In connection with this I would advise the making of a

thorough survey of the harbor, to ascertain the extent of rock

surface and of drift, and the relative position of the two, with

maps to show their relations to the different levels of the sea,

whereby the unequal action of the tides upon the various beaches

may be estimated.

The zoological side of the question relates to the amount of loose

materials accumulating in consequence of the increase of animal and

vegetable life, especially of those microscopic beings which,

notwithstanding their extraordinary minuteness, form in course of

time vast deposits of solid materials. Ehrenberg has shown that the

harbor of Wismar, on the Prussian coast of the Baltic, is filling,

not in consequence of the accumulation of inorganic sediments, but

by the rapid increase and decay of innumerable animalcules. To what

extent such deposits may accumulate has also been shown by

Ehrenberg, who ascertained, many years ago, that the city of Berlin

rests upon a deposit of about eighteen feet in thickness,

consisting almost exclusively of the solid parts of such

microscopic beings. These two cases may suffice to show how

important may be a zoological investigation of the harbor deposits.

I need hardly add that the deposits floated into the harbor, by the

numerous rivers and creeks which empty into it, ought to be

investigated with the same care and minuteness as the drift

materials. This investigation should also include the drainage of

the city.

But this is only a small part of the application I would recommend

to be made of geological and zoological knowledge, to the purposes

of the Coast Survey. The reefs of Florida are of the deepest

interest, and the mere geodetic and hydrographic surveys of their

whole range would be far from exhausting the subject. It is my

deliberate opinion that the great reefs of Florida should be

explored with as much minuteness and fullness as the Gulf Stream,

and that the investigation will require as much labor as has thus

far been bestowed on the Gulf Stream. Here again geological and

zoological knowledge is indispensable to the completion of the

work. The reef is formed mainly by the accumulation of solid

materials from a variety of animals and a few plants. The relations

of these animals and plants to one another while alive, in and upon

the reef, ought to be studied more fully than has been the case

heretofore, in order to determine with certainty the share they

have in the formation of these immense submarine walls so dangerous

to navigation. The surveys, as they have been made thus far,

furnish only the necessary information concerning the present form

and extent of the reef. But we know that it is constantly changing,

increasing, enlarging, spreading, rising in such a way and at such

a rate, that the surveys of one century become insufficient for the

next. A knowledge of these changes can only be obtained by a

naturalist, familiar with the structure and mode of growth of the

animals. The survey I made about fifteen years ago, at the request

of your lamented predecessor, could only be considered as a

reconnaissance, in view of the extent and importance of the work. I

would, therefore, recommend you to organize a party specially

detailed to carry on these investigations in connection with, and

by the side of, the regular geodetic and hydrographic survey. Here,

also, would geological knowledge be of great advantage to the

explorer. In confirmation of my recommendation I need only remind

you of a striking fact in the history of our science. More than

thirty years ago, before Dana and Darwin had published their

beautiful investigations upon the coral reefs, a pupil of mine, the

late Armand Gressly, had traced the structure and mode of growth of

coral reefs and atolls in the Jura mountains, thus anticipating, by

a geological investigation, results afterward obtained by dredging

in the ocean. The structure of the reefs of our shores is,

therefore, more likely to be fully understood by one who is

entirely familiar with zoology and geology than by a surveyor who

has no familiarity with either of these sciences.

There is another reason why I would urge upon you the application

of natural sciences to the work of the survey. The depth of the

ocean is a great obstacle to a satisfactory exploration of its

bottom. But we know now that nearly all dry land has been sea

bottom before it was raised above the level of the water. This is

at least the case with all the stratified rocks and aqueous

deposits forming part of the earth's crust. Now it would greatly

facilitate the study of the bottom of the sea if, after

ascertaining by soundings the general character of the bottom in

any particular region, corresponding bottoms on dry land were

examined, so that by a comparison of the one with the other, both

might be better understood. The shoals of the southern coast of

Massachusetts have been surveyed, and their position is now known

with great accuracy; but their internal structure, their mode of

formation, is only imperfectly ascertained, owing to the difficulty

of cutting into them and examining in situ the materials of which

they are composed. Nothing, on the contrary, is easier than to

explore the structure or composition of drift hills which are cut

through by all our railroad tracks. Now the shoals and rips of

Nantucket have their counterparts on the main-land; and even along

the shores of Boston Harbor, in the direction of Dorchester and

Milton, such shoals may be examined, far away from the waters to

which they owe their deposits. Here, then, is the place to complete

the exploration, for which soundings and dredgings give only

imperfect information.

I need not extend these remarks further in order to satisfy you of

the importance of geological and zoological researches in

connection with the regular operations of the Coast Survey. Permit

me, however, to add a few words upon some points which, as it seems

to me, belong legitimately to the Coast Survey, and to which

sufficient attention has not yet been paid. I allude, first, to the

salt marshes of our shores, their formation and uses, as well as

their gradual disappearance under the advance of the sea; second,

to the extended low islands in the form of reefs along the coast of

the Southern States, the bases of which may be old coral reefs;

third, the form of all our estuaries, which has resulted from the

conflict of the sea with the drift formation, and is therefore, in

a measure, a geological problem; fourth, the extensive deposits of

foraminifera along the coast, which ought to be compared with the

deposits of tripoli found in many tertiary formations; fifth, the

general form and outline of our continent, with all its

indentations, which are due to their geological structure. Indeed,

the shore everywhere is the result of the conflict of the ocean

with the rock formation of the land, and therefore as much a

question for geology as geodesy to answer.

Should the preceding remarks induce you to carry my suggestions

into practical operation, be assured that it will at all times give

me the greatest pleasure to contribute to the success of your

administration, not only by advice, but by actual participation in

your work whenever that is wanted. The scientific men of America

look to you for the publication of the great results already

secured by the Coast Survey, well knowing that this national

enterprise can only be benefited by the high-minded course which

has at all times marked your intellectual career.

Ever truly your friend,

L. AGASSIZ.

This year closed for Agassiz with a heavy sorrow. His mother's

health had been failing of late, and November brought the news of

her death. Separated though they were, there had never been any

break in their intercourse. As far as he could, he kept her advised

of all his projects and undertakings, and his work was no less

interesting to her when the ocean lay between them than when he

could daily share it with her. She had an unbounded sympathy with

him in the new ties he had formed in this country, and seemed

indeed as intimately allied with his later life here as with its

earlier European portion.

His own health, which had seemed for a time to have regained the

vigor of youth, broke down again in the following spring, and an

attack about the region of the heart disabled him for a number of

weeks. To this date belongs a short correspondence between Agassiz

and Oswald Heer. Heer's work on the Fossil Flora of the Arctics had

recently appeared, and a presentation copy from him reached Agassiz

as he was slowly regaining strength after his illness, although

still confined to the house. It could not have come at a happier

moment, for it engrossed him completely, and turned his thoughts

away from the occupations which he was not yet allowed to resume.

The book had a twofold interest for him: although in another branch

of science, it was akin to his own earlier investigations, inasmuch

as it reconstructed the once rich flora of the polar regions as he

himself had reconstructed the fauna of past geological times; it

clothed their frozen fields with forests as he had sheeted now

fertile lands with ice. In short, it appealed powerfully to the

imagination, and no child in the tedious hours of convalescence was

ever more beguiled by a story-book than he by the pictures which

this erudite work called up.

AGASSIZ TO OSWALD HEER.

CAMBRIDGE, May 12, 1868.

MY HONORED COLLEAGUE,

Your beautiful book on the Fossil Arctic Flora reached me, just as

I was recovering from a tedious and painful illness. I could,

therefore, take it in hand at once, and have been delighted with

it. You give a captivating picture of the successive changes which

the Arctic regions have undergone. No work could be more valuable,

either as a means of opening recent investigations in Paleontology

to the larger public, or of advancing science itself. If I can find

the time I mean to prepare an abridgment in popular form for one of

our reviews. Meantime I have written to Professor Henry,

Superintendent of the Smithsonian Institution at Washington, that

he should subscribe for a number of copies to be distributed among

less wealthy establishments. I hope he will do this, and I shall

continue to urge it, since my friendly relations with him give me a

right so to do. I have, moreover, written to the directors of

various prominent institutions, in order that your work, so far as

is possible for works of that kind, may become known in the United

States, and reach such persons as would naturally be interested in

it. . .

With friendly remembrance, yours always,

LOUIS AGASSIZ.

The answer is some months later in date, but is given here for its

connection.

FROM OSWALD HEER.

ZURICH, December 8, 1868.

MY HONORED FRIEND,

Your letter of last May gave me the greatest pleasure, and I should

have answered it earlier had I not heard that you had gone to the

Rocky Mountains, and supposed, therefore, that my letter would

hardly find you at home again before the late autumn. I will delay

writing no longer,--the more so because I have received, through

the Smithsonian Institution, your great work on the Natural History

of the United States. Valuable as it is in itself, it has a double

attraction for me as the gift of the author. Accept my warm thanks.

It will always be to me a token of your friendly regard. It gave me

great satisfaction to know that my Fossil Arctic Flora had met with

your approval. Since then many new facts have come to light tending

to confirm my results. The Whymper Expedition brought to England a

number of fossil plants, which have been sent to me for

examination. I found eighty species, of which thirty-two from North

Greenland are new, so that we now know 137 species of Miocene

plants from North Greenland (70 degrees north latitude). It was a

real delight to me to find the fruit cup of the Castanea [chestnut]

inclosing three seeds (three Kastanica) and covered with prickles

like the Castanea vesca; and, furthermore, I was able to prove by

the flowers, which were preserved with the fruit, that the

supposition given in the Arctic Flora (page 106) was correct;

namely, that the leaves of the Fagus castaneafolia Ung. truly

belong to a Castanea. As several fruits are contained in one fruit

cup, this Miocene Castanea must have been nearer to the European

species (C. vesca) than to the American Castanea (the C. pumila

Micha). The leaves have been drawn in the Flora Arctica, and are

also preserved in the Whymper collection.

I have received very beautiful and large leaves of the Castanea

which I have called C. Ungeri, from Alaska. I am now occupied in

working up this fossil Alaskan flora; the plants are in great part

drawn, and contain magnificent leaves. The treatise will be

published by the Swedish Academy in Stockholm; I hope to send you a

copy a few months hence. This flora is remarkable for its

resemblance to the European Miocene flora. The liquidambar, as well

as several poplars and willows, cannot be distinguished from those

of Oeningen; the same is true of an Elm, a Carpinus, and others. As

Alaska now belongs to the United States, it is to be hoped that

these collecting stations, which have already furnished such

magnificent plants, will be farther ransacked. . .Hoping that you

have returned safely from your journey, and that these lines may

find you well, I remain, with cordial greeting,

Sincerely yours,

OSWALD HEER.

Shortly after Agassiz's recovery, in July, 1868, he was invited by

Mr. Samuel Hooper to join a party of friends, tired members of

Congress and business men, on an excursion to the West, under

conditions which promised not only rest and change, but an

opportunity for studying glacial phenomena over a broad region of

prairie and mountain which Agassiz had never visited. They were to

meet at Chicago, keep on from there to St. Paul, and down the

Mississippi, turning off through Kansas to the eastern branch of

the Pacific Railroad, at the terminus of which they were to meet

General Sherman with ambulances and an escort for conveyance across

the country to the Union Pacific Railroad, returning then by

Denver, Utah, and Omaha, and across the State of Iowa to the

Mississippi once more. This journey was of great interest to

Agassiz, and its scientific value was heightened by a subsequent

stay of nearly two months at Ithaca, N.Y., on his return. Cornell

University was then just opened at Ithaca, and he had accepted an

appointment as non-resident professor, with the responsibility of

delivering annually a course of lectures on various subjects of

natural history. New efforts in behalf of education always

attracted him, and this drew him with an even stronger magnet than

usual, involving as it did an untried experiment--the attempt,

namely, to combine the artisan with the student, manual labor with

intellectual work. The plan was a generous one, and stimulated both

pupils and teachers. Among the latter none had greater sympathy

with the high ideal and broad humanity of the undertaking than

Agassiz.* (* Very recently a memorial tablet has been placed in the

Chapel at Cornell University by the trustees, recording their

gratitude for the share he took in the initiation of the

institution.)

Beside the enthusiasm which he brought to his special work, he

found an added pleasure at Cornell in the fact that the region in

which the new university was situated contained another chapter in

the book of glacial records he had so long been reading, and made

also, as the following letter tells us, a natural sequence to his

recent observations in the West.

TO M. DE LA RIVE.

ITHACA, October 26, 1868.

. . .I am passing some weeks here, and am studying the erratic

phenomena, and especially the formation of the many small lakes

which literally swarm in this region, and are connected in various

ways with the glacial epoch. The journey which I have just

completed has furnished me with a multitude of new facts concerning

the glacial period, the long continuance of which, and its

importance with reference to the physical history of the globe,

become daily more clear to me. The origin and mode of formation of

the vast system of our American rivers have especially occupied me,

and I think I have found the solution of the problem which they

present. This system reproduces the lines followed by the water

over the surface of the ground moraines, which covered the whole

continent, when the great sheet of ice which modeled the drift

broke up and melted away. This conclusion will, no doubt, be as

slow of acceptance as was the theory of the ancient extension of

glaciers. But that does not trouble me. For my own part I am

confident of its truth, and after having seen the idea of a glacial

epoch finally adopted by all except those who are interested in

opposing it on account of certain old and artificial theories, I

can wait a little till the changes which succeeded that epoch are

also understood. I have obtained direct proof that the prairies of

the West rest upon polished rock. It has happened in the course of

recent building on the prairie, that the native rock has been laid

bare here and there, and this rock is as distinctly furrowed by the

action of the glacier and by its engraving process, as the Handeck,

or the slopes of the Jura. I have seen magnificent slabs in

Nebraska in the basin of the river Platte. Do not the physicists

begin to think of explaining to us the probable cause of changes so

remarkable and so well established? We can no longer evade the

question by supposing these phenomena to be due to the action of

great currents. We have to do first with sheets of ice, five or six

thousand feet in thickness (an estimate which can be tested by

indirect measurements in the Northern States), covering the whole

continent, and then with the great currents which ensued upon the

breaking up of that mass of ice. He who does not distinguish

between these two series of facts, and perceive their connection,

does not understand the geology of the Quaternary epoch. . .

Of about this date is the following pleasant letter from Longfellow

to Agassiz. Although it has no special bearing upon what precedes,

it is inserted here, because their near neighborhood and constant

personal intercourse, both at Cambridge and Nahant, made letters

rare between them. Friends who see each other so often are

infrequent correspondents.

ROME, December 31, 1868.

MY DEAR AGASSIZ,

I fully intended to write you from Switzerland, that my letter

might come to you like a waft of cool air from a glacier in the

heat of summer. But alas! I did not find cool air enough for

myself, much less to send across the sea. Switzerland was as hot as

Cambridge, and all life was taken out of me; and the letter

remained in the inkstand. I draw it forth as follows.

One of the things I most wished to say, and which I say first, is

the delight with which I found your memory so beloved in England.

At Cambridge, Professor Sedgwick said, "Give my love to Agassiz.

Give him the blessing of an old man." In London, Sir Roderick

Murchison said, "I have known a great many men that I liked; but I

LOVE Agassiz." In the Isle of Wight, Darwin said, "What a set of

men you have in Cambridge! Both our universities put together

cannot furnish the like. Why, there is Agassiz,--he counts for

three."

One of my pleasantest days in Switzerland was that passed at

Yverdon. In the morning I drove out to see the Gasparins. In their

abundant hospitality they insisted upon my staying to dinner, and

proposed a drive up the valley of the Orbe. I could not resist; so

up the lovely valley we drove, and passed the old chateau of the

Reine Berthe, one of my favorite heroines, but, what was far more

to me, passed the little town of Orbe. There it stands, with its

old church tower and the trees on the terrace, just as when you

played under them as a boy. It was very, very pleasant to behold

. . .Thanks for your letter from the far West. I see by the papers

that you have been lecturing at the Cornell University.

With kindest greetings and remembrances, always affectionately

yours,

H.W.L.

CHAPTER 22.

1868-1871: AGE 61-64.

New Subscription to Museum.

Additional Buildings.

Arrangement of New Collections.

Dredging Expedition on Board the Bibb.

Address at the Humboldt Centennial.

Attack on the Brain.

Suspension of Work.

Working Force at the Museum.

New Accessions.

Letter from Professor Sedgwick.

Letter from Professor Deshayes.

Restored Health.

Hassler Voyage proposed.

Acceptance.

Scientific Preparation for the Voyage.

Agassiz returned to Cambridge to find the Museum on an improved

footing financially. The Legislature had given seventy-five

thousand dollars for an addition to the building, and private

subscriptions had doubled this sum, in order to provide for the

preservation and arrangement of the new collections. In

acknowledging this gift of the Legislature in his Museum Report for

1868 Agassiz says:--

"While I rejoice in the prospect of this new building, as affording

the means for a complete exhibition of the specimens now stored in

our cellars and attics and encumbering every room of the present

edifice, I yet can hardly look forward to the time when we shall be

in possession of it without shrinking from the grandeur of our

undertaking. The past history of our science rises before me with

its lessons. Thinking men in every part of the world have been

stimulated to grapple with the infinite variety of problems,

connected with the countless animals scattered without apparent

order throughout sea and land. They have been led to discover the

affinities of various living beings. The past has yielded up its

secrets, and has shown them that the animals now peopling the earth

are but the successors of countless populations which have preceded

them, and whose remains are buried in the crust of our globe.

Further study has revealed relations between the animals of past

time and those now living, and between the law of succession in the

former and the laws of growth and distribution in the latter, so

intimate and comprehensive that this labyrinth of organic life

assumes the character of a connected history, which opens before us

with greater clearness in proportion as our knowledge increases.

But when the museums of the Old World were founded, these relations

were not even suspected. The collections of natural history,

gathered at immense expense in the great centres of human

civilization, were accumulated mainly as an evidence of man's

knowledge and skill in exhibiting to the best advantage, not only

the animals, but the products and curiosities of all sorts from

various parts of the world. While we admire and emulate the

industry and perseverance of the men who collected these materials,

and did in the best way the work it was possible to do in their

time for science, we have no longer the right to build museums

after this fashion. The originality and vigor of one generation

become the subservience and indolence of the next, if we only

repeat the work of our predecessors. They prepared the ground for

us by accumulating the materials for extensive comparison and

research. They presented the problem; we ought to be ready with the

solution. If I mistake not, the great object of our museums should

be to exhibit the whole animal kingdom as a manifestation of the

Supreme Intellect. Scientific investigation in our day should be

inspired by a purpose as animating to the general sympathy, as was

the religious zeal which built the Cathedral of Cologne or the

Basilica of St. Peter's. The time is passed when men expressed

their deepest convictions by these wonderful and beautiful

religious edifices; but it is my hope to see, with the progress of

intellectual culture, a structure arise among us which may be a

temple of the revelations written in the material universe. If this

be so, our buildings for such an object can never be too

comprehensive, for they are to embrace the infinite work of

Infinite Wisdom. They can never be too costly, so far as cost

secures permanence and solidity, for they are to contain the most

instructive documents of Omnipotence."

Agassiz gave the winter of 1869 to identifying, classifying, and

distributing the new collections. A few weeks in the spring were,

however, passed with his friend Count de Pourtales in a dredging

expedition on board the Coast Survey Steamer Bibb, off the coast of

Cuba, on the Bahama Banks, and among the reefs of Florida. This

dredging excursion, though it covered a wider ground than any

previous one, was the third deep-sea exploration undertaken by M.

de Pourtales under the auspices of the Coast Survey. His

investigations may truly be said to have exercised a powerful

influence upon this line of research, and to have led the way to

the more extended work of the same kind carried on by the Coast

Survey in later years. He had long wished to show his old friend

and teacher some of the rich dredging grounds he had discovered

between Florida and the West Indies, and they thoroughly enjoyed

this short period of work together. Every day and hour brought some

new interest, and excess of material seemed the only difficulty.

This was Agassiz's last cruise in the Bibb, on whose hospitable

deck he had been a welcome guest from the first year of his arrival

in this country. The results of this expedition, as connected with

the present conformation of the continent and its probable

geological history in the past, were given as follows in the Museum

Bulletin of the same year.

REPORT UPON DEEP SEA DREDGINGS.*

(* "Bulletin of the Museum of Comparative Zoology" 1 Number 13 1869

pages 368, 369.)

BY LOUIS AGASSIZ.

From what I have seen of the deep-sea bottom, I am already led to

infer that among the rocks forming the bulk of the stratified crust

of our globe, from the oldest to the youngest formation, there are

probably none which have been formed in very deep waters. If this

be so, we shall have to admit that the areas now respectively

occupied by our continents, as circumscribed by the two hundred

fathom curve or thereabout, and the oceans at greater depth, have

from the beginning retained their relative outline and position;

the continents having at all times been areas of gradual upheaval

with comparatively slight oscillations of rise and subsidence, and

the oceans at all times areas of gradual depression with equally

slight oscillations. Now that the geological constitution of our

continent is satisfactorily known over the greatest part of its

extent, it seems to me to afford the strongest evidence that this

has been the case; while there is no support whatever for the

assumption that any part of it has sunk again to any very great

depth after its rise above the surface of the ocean. The fact that

upon the American continent, east of the Rocky Mountains, the

geological formations crop out in their regular succession, from

the oldest azoic and primordial deposits to the cretaceous

formation, without the slightest indication of a great subsequent

subsidence, seems to me the most complete and direct demonstration

of my proposition. Of the western part of the continent I am not

prepared to speak with the same confidence. Moreover, the position

of the cretaceous and tertiary formations along the low grounds

east of the Allegheny range is another indication of the permanence

of the ocean trough, on the margin of which these more recent beds

have been formed. I am well aware that in a comparatively recent

period, portions of Canada and the United States, which now stand

six or seven hundred feet above the level of the sea, have been

under water; but this has not changed the configuration of the

continent, if we admit that the latter is in reality circumscribed

by the two hundred fathom curve of depth.

The summer was passed in his beloved laboratory at Nahant (as it

proved, the last he ever spent there), where he was still

continuing the preparation of his work on sharks and skates. At the

close of the summer, he interrupted this occupation for one to

which he brought not only the reverence of a disciple, but a

life-long debt of personal gratitude and affection. He had been

entreated to deliver the address at the Humboldt Centennial

Celebration (September 15, 1869), organized under the auspices of

the Boston Society of Natural History. He had accepted the

invitation with many misgivings, for to literary work as such he

was unaccustomed, and in the field of the biographer he felt

himself a novice. His preparation for the task was conscientious

and laborious. For weeks he shut himself up in a room of the Public

Library in Boston and reviewed all the works of the great master,

living, as it were, in his presence. The result was a very concise

and yet full memoir, a strong and vigorous sketch of Humboldt's

researches, and of their influence not only upon higher education

at the present day, but on our most elementary instruction, until

the very "school-boy is familiar with his methods, yet does not

know that Humboldt is his teacher." Agassiz's picture of this

generous intellect, fertilizing whatever it touched, was made the

more life-like by the side lights which his affection for Humboldt

and his personal intercourse with him in the past enabled him to

throw upon it. Emerson, who was present, said of this address,

"that Agassiz had never delivered a discourse more wise, more

happy, or of more varied power." George William Curtis writes of

it: "Your discourse seems to me the very ideal of such an address,

--so broad, so simple, so comprehensive, so glowing, so profoundly

appreciative, telling the story of Humboldt's life and work as I am

sure no other living man can tell it." In memory of this occasion

the "Humboldt Scholarship" was founded at the Museum of Comparative

Zoology.

It is hardly worth while to consider now whether this effort, added

to the pressing work of the year, hastened the attack which

occurred soon after, with its warning to Agassiz that his

overtasked brain could bear no farther strain. The first seizure,

of short duration, but affecting speech and motion while it lasted,

was followed by others which became less and less acute until they

finally disappeared. For months, however, he was shut up in his

room, absolutely withdrawn from every intellectual effort, and

forbidden by his physicians even to think. The fight with his own

brain was his greatest difficulty, and perhaps he showed as much

power in compelling his active intellect to stultify itself in

absolute inactivity for the time, as he had ever shown in giving it

free rein. Yet he could not always banish the Museum, the

passionate dream of his American life. One day, after dictating

some necessary directions concerning it, he exclaimed, with a sort

of despairing cry, "Oh, my Museum! my Museum! always uppermost, by

day and by night, in health and in sickness, always--ALWAYS!"

He was destined, however, to a few more years of activity, the

reward, perhaps, of his patient and persistent struggle for

recovery. After a winter of absolute seclusion, passed in his sick

chamber, he was allowed by his physician, in the spring of 1870, to

seek change at the quiet village of Deerfield on the Connecticut

River. Nature proved the best physician. Unable when he arrived to

take more than a few steps without vertigo, he could, before many

weeks were over, walk several miles a day. Keen as an Egyptologist

for the hieroglyphics of his science, he was soon deciphering the

local inscriptions of the glacial period, tracking the course of

the ice on slab and dike and river-bed,--on every natural surface.

The old music sang again in his ear and wooed him back to life.

In the mean time, his assistants and students were doing all in

their power to keep the work of the Museum at high-water mark. The

publications, the classification and arrangement of the more recent

collections, the distribution of such portions as were intended for

the public, the system of exchanges, went on uninterruptedly. The

working force at the Museum was, indeed, now very strong. In great

degree it was, so to speak, home-bred. Agassiz had gradually

gathered about him, chiefly from among his more special students, a

staff of assistants who were familiar with his plans and shared his

enthusiasm. To these young friends he was warmly attached. It would

be impossible to name them all, but the knot of younger men who

were for years his daily associates in scientific work, whose

sympathy and cooperation he so much valued, and who are now in

their turn growing old in the service of science, will read the

roll-call between the lines, and know that none are forgotten here.

Years before his own death, he had the pleasure of seeing several

of them called to important scientific positions, and it was a

cogent evidence to him of the educational efficiency of the Museum,

that it had supplied to the country so many trained investigators

and teachers. Through them he himself teaches still. There was a

prophecy in Lowell's memorial lines:--

"He was a Teacher: why be grieved for him

Whose living word still stimulates the air?

In endless file shall loving scholars come,

The glow of his transmitted touch to share."

Beside these, there were several older, experienced naturalists,

who were permanently or transiently engaged at the Museum. Some

were heads of departments, while others lent assistance

occasionally in special work. Again the list is too long for

enumeration, but as the veteran among the older men Mr. J.G.

Anthony should be remembered. Already a conchologist of forty

years' standing when he came to the Museum in 1863, he devoted

himself to the institution until the day of his death, twenty years

later. Among those who came to give occasional help were Mr.

Lesquereux, the head of paleontological botany in this country; M.

Jules Marcou, the geologist; and M. de Pourtales, under whose care

the collection of corals was constantly improved and enlarged. The

last named became at last wholly attached to the Museum, sharing

its administration with Alexander Agassiz after his father's death.

To this band of workers some accessions had recently been made.

More than two years before, Agassiz had been so fortunate as to

secure the assistance of the entomologist, Dr. Hermann Hagen, from

Konigsberg, Prussia. He came at first only for a limited time, but

he remained, and still remains, at the Museum, becoming more and

more identified with the institution, beside filling a place as

professor in Harvard University. His scientific sympathy and

support were of the greatest value to Agassiz during the rest of

his life. A later new-corner, and a very important one at the

Museum, was Dr. Franz Steindachner, of Vienna, who arrived in the

spring of 1870 to put in final order the collection of Brazilian

fishes, and passed two years in this country. Thus Agassiz's hands

were doubly strengthened. Beside having the service of the salaried

assistants and professors, the Museum received much gratuitous aid.

Among the scientific volunteers were numbered for years Francois de

Pourtales, Theodore Lyman, James M. Barnard, and Alexander Agassiz,

while the business affairs of the institution were undertaken by

Thomas G. Cary, Agassiz's brother-in-law. The latter had long been

of great service to the Museum as collector on the Pacific coast,

where he had made this work his recreation in the leisure hours of

a merchant's life.* (* For the history of the Museum in later times

reference is made to the regular reports and publications of the

institution.)

Broken as he was in health, it is amazing to see the amount of work

done or directed by Agassiz during this convalescent summer of

1870. The letters written by him in this time concerning the Museum

alone would fill a good-sized volume. Such a correspondence is

unfit for reproduction here, but its minuteness shows that almost

the position of every specimen, and the daily, hourly work of every

individual in the Museum, were known to him. The details of

administration form, however, but a small part of the material of

this correspondence. The consideration and discussion of the future

of the Museum with those most nearly concerned, fill many of the

letters. They give evidence of a fostering and far-reaching care,

which provided for the growth and progress of the Museum, long

after his own share in it should have ceased.

In reviewing Agassiz's scientific life in the United States, its

brilliant successes, and the genial generous support which it

received in this country, it is natural to give prominence to the

brighter side. And yet it must not be forgotten that like all men

whose ideals outrun the means of execution, he had moments of

intense depression and discouragement. Some of his letters, written

at this time to friends who controlled the financial policy of the

Museum, are almost like a plea for life. While the trustees urge

safe investments and the expenditure of income alone, he believes

that in proportion to the growth and expansion of the Museum will

be its power of self-maintenance and its claim on the community at

large. In short, expenditure seemed to him the best investment,

insuring a fair return, on the principle that the efficiency and

usefulness of an institution will always be the measure of the

support extended to it. The two or three following letters, in

answer to letters from Agassiz which cannot be found, show how

earnestly, in spite of physical depression, he strove to keep the

Museum in relation with foreign institutions, to strengthen the

former, and cooperate as far as possible with the latter.

FROM PROFESSOR VON SIEBOLD.

MUNICH, 1869.

. . .Most gladly shall I meet your wishes both with regard to the

fresh-water fishes of Central Europe and to your desire for the

means of direct comparison between the fishes brought by Spix from

Brazil and described by you, and those you have recently yourself

collected in the Amazons. The former, with one exception, are still

in existence and remain undisturbed, for since your day no one has

cared to work at the fishes or reptiles. Schubert took no interest

in the zoological cabinet intrusted to him; and Wagner, who later

relieved him of its management, cared chiefly for the mammals. I

have now, however, given particular attention to the preservation

of everything determined by you, so far as it could be found, and

am truly glad that this material is again to be called into the

service of science. Of course I had to ask permission of the

"General Conservatorium of Scientific Collections" before sending

this property of the state on so long a journey. At my urgent

request this permission was very cordially granted by Herr von

Liebig, especially as our collection is likely to be increased by

the new forms you offer us.

As to the fresh-water fishes I must beg for a little time. At the

fish market, in April or May, I can find those Cyprinoids, the

males of which bear at the spawning season that characteristic

eruption of the skin, which has so often and so incorrectly led to

the making of new species. . .

From your son Alexander I receive one beautiful work after another.

Give him my best thanks for these admirable gifts, which I enter

with sincere pleasure in my catalogue of books. You are indeed

happy to have such a co-worker at your side. At the next

opportunity I shall write my thanks to him personally.

How is Dr. Hermann Hagen pleased with his new position? I think the

presence of this superior entomologist will exert a powerful and

important influence upon the development of entomology in North

America. . .

FROM PROFESSOR G.P. DESHAYES.

MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY, PARIS, February 4, 1870.

Your letter was truly an event, my dear friend, not only for me but

for our Museum. . .How happy you are, and how enviable has been

your scientific career, since you have had your home in free

America! The founder of a magnificent institution, to which your

glorious name will forever remain attached, you have the means of

carrying out whatever undertaking commends itself to you as useful.

Men and things, following the current that sets toward you, are

drawn to your side. You desire, and you see your desires carried

out. You are the sovereign leader of the scientific movement around

you, of which you yourself have been the first promoter.

What would our old Museum not have gained in having at its head a

man like you! We should not now be lying stagnant in a space so

insufficient that our buildings, by the mere force of

circumstances, are transformed into store-houses, where objects of

study are heaped together, and can be of no use to any one. . .You

can fancy how much I envy your organization. It depressed me to

read your letter, with its brilliant proposals of exchange,

remembering how powerless we are to meet even a small number of

them. Your project is certainly an admirable one; to find the

scientific nomenclature where it is best established, and by the

help of good specimens transport it to your own doors. Nothing

could be better, and I would gladly assist in it. But to succeed in

this excellent enterprise one must have good duplicate specimens;

not having them, one must have money. As a conclusion to your

letter, the question of money was brought before my assembled

colleagues, but the answer was vague and uncertain. I must, then,

find resources in some other way, and this is what I propose to do

. . .[Here follow some plans for exchange.] Beside this, I will

busy myself in getting together authentic collections from our

French seas, both Oceanic and Mediterranean, and even from other

points in the European seas. Meantime, you shall have your share

henceforth in whatever comes to me. . .I learn from your son that

your health is seriously attacked. I was grieved to hear it. Take

care of yourself, my dear friend. You are still needed in this

world; you have a great work to accomplish, the end and aim of

which you alone are able to reach. You must, therefore, still stand

in the breach for some years to come.

Your letter, which shows me the countless riches you have to offer

at the Museum, puts me in the frame of mind of the child who was

offered his choice in a toy-shop. "I choose everything," he said. I

could reply in the same way. I choose all you offer me. Still, one

must be reasonable, and I will therefore name, as the thing I

chiefly desire, the remarkable fauna dredged from the Gulf Stream.

Let me add, however, in order to give you entire freedom, that

whatever you may send to the Museum will be received with sincere

and ardent gratitude.

And so, farewell, my dear friend, with a warm shake of the hand and

the most cordial regard.

DESHAYES.

The next is in answer to a letter from Agassiz to the veteran

naturalist, Professor Sedgwick, concerning casts of well-known

fossil specimens in Cambridge, England. Though the casts were

unattainable, the affectionate reply gave Agassiz keen pleasure.

FROM PROFESSOR ADAM SEDGWICK.

THE CLOSE, NORWICH, August 9, 1871.

MY VERY DEAR AND HONORED FRIEND,

. . .I of course showed your letter to my friend Seeley, and after

some consultation with men of practical knowledge, it was

considered almost impossible to obtain such casts of the reptilian

bones as you mention. The specimens of the bones are generally so

rugged and broken, that the artists would find it extremely

difficult to make casts from them without the risk of damaging

them, and the authorities of the university, who are the

proprietors of the whole collection in my Museum, would be

unwilling to encounter that risk. Mr. Seeley, however, fully

intends to send you a gutta-percha cast of the cerebral cavity of

one of our important specimens described in "Seeley's Catalogue,"

but he is full of engagements and may not hitherto have realized

his intentions. As for myself, at present I can do nothing except

hobble daily on my stick from my house to the Cathedral, for I am

afflicted by a painful lameness in my left knee. The load of years

begins to press upon me (I am now toiling through my 87th year),

and my sight is both dim and irritable, so that, as a matter of

necessity, I am generally compelled to employ an amanuensis. That

part is now filled by a niece who is to me in the place of a dear

daughter.

I need not tell you that the meetings of the British Association

are still continued, and the last session (this year at Edinburgh)

only ended yesterday. Let me correct a mistake. I met you first at

Edinburgh in 1834, the year I became Canon, and again at Dublin in

1835. . .It is a great pleasure to me, my dear friend, to see again

by the vision of memory that fine youthful person, that benevolent

face, and to hear again, as it were, the cheerful ring of the sweet

and powerful voice by which you made the old Scotchmen start and

stare, while you were bringing to life again the fishes of their

old red sandstone. I must be content with the visions of memory and

the feelings they again kindle in my heart, for it will never be my

happiness to see your face again in this world. But let me, as a

Christian man, hope that we may meet hereafter in heaven, and see

such visions of God's glory in the moral and material universe, as

shall reduce to a mere germ everything which has been elaborated by

the skill of man, or revealed to God's creatures. I send you an old

man's blessing, and remain,

Your affectionate friend,

ADAM SEDGWICK.

In November, 1870, Agassiz was able to return to Cambridge and the

Museum, and even to resume his lectures, which were as vigorous and

fresh as ever. So entirely did he seem to have recovered, that in

the course of the winter the following proposition was made to him

by his friend, Professor Benjamin Peirce, then Superintendent of

the Coast Survey.

FROM PROFESSOR PEIRCE.

COAST SURVEY OFFICE, WASHINGTON, February 18, 1871.

. . .I met Sumner in the Senate the day before yesterday, and he

expressed immense delight at a letter he had received from

Brown-Sequard, telling him that you were altogether free from

disease. . .Now, my dear friend, I have a very serious proposition

for you. I am going to send a new iron surveying steamer round to

California in the course of the summer. She will probably start at

the end of June. Would you go in her, and do deep-sea dredging all

the way round? If so, what companions will you take? If not, who

shall go?. . .

FROM AGASSIZ TO PROFESSOR PEIRCE.

CAMBRIDGE, February 20, 1871.

. . .I am overjoyed at the prospect your letter opens before me. Of

course I will go, unless Brown-Sequard orders me positively to stay

on terra firma. But even then, I should like to have a hand in

arranging the party, as I feel there never was, and is not likely

soon again to be, such an opportunity for promoting the cause of

science generally, and that of natural history in particular. I

would like Pourtales and Alex to be of the party, and both would

gladly join if they can. Both are as much interested about it as I

am, and I have no doubt between us we may organize a working team,

strong enough to do something creditable. It seems to me that the

best plan to pursue in the survey would be to select carefully a

few points (as many as time would allow) on shore, from which to

work at right angles with the coast, to as great a distance as the

results would justify, and then move on to some other head-land. If

this plan be adopted, it would be desirable to have one additional

observer to make collections on shore, to connect with the result

of the dredgings. This would be the more important as, with the

exception of Brazil, hardly anything is known of the shore faunae

upon the greater part of the South American coast. For shore

observations I should like a man of the calibre of Dr.

Steindachner, who has spent a year on the coast of Senegal, and

would thus bring a knowledge of the opposite side of the Atlantic

as a starting basis of comparison. . .

After consultation with his physicians, it was decided that Agassiz

might safely undertake the voyage in the Hassler, that it might

indeed be of benefit to his health. His party of naturalists, as

finally made up, consisted of Agassiz himself, Count de Pourtales,

Dr. Franz Steindachner, and Mr. Blake, a young student from the

Museum, who accompanied Agassiz as assistant and draughtsman. Dr.

Thomas Hill, ex-president of Harvard University, was also on the

expedition, and though engaged in special investigations of his

own, he joined in all the work with genial interest. The vessel was

commanded by Captain (now Commodore) Philip C. Johnson, whose

courtesy and kindness made the Hassler a floating home to the

guests on board. So earnest and active was the sympathy felt by him

and his officers in the scientific interests of the expedition,

that they might be counted as a valuable additional volunteer

corps. Among them should be counted Dr. William White, of

Philadelphia, who accompanied the expedition in a partly

professional, partly scientific capacity.

The hopes Agassiz had formed of this expedition, as high as those

of any young explorer, were only partially fulfilled. His

enthusiasm, though it had the ardor of youth, had none of its

vagueness. In a letter to Mr. Peirce, published in the Museum

Bulletin at this time, there is this passage: "If this world of

ours is the work of intelligence and not merely the product of

force and matter, the human mind, as a part of the whole, should so

chime with it, that from what is known it may reach the unknown. If

this be so, the knowledge gathered should, within the limits of

error which its imperfection renders unavoidable, enable us to

foretell what we are likely to find in the deepest abysses of the

sea." He looked, in short, for the solution of special problems

directly connected with all his previous work. He believed the

deeper sea would show forms of life akin to animals of earlier

geological times, throwing new light on the relation between the

fossil and the living world. In the letter above quoted, he even

named the species he expected to find most prevalent in those

greater depths: as, for instance, representatives of the older

forms of Ganoids and Selachians; Cephalopods, resembling the more

ancient chambered shells; Gasteropods, recalling the tertiary and

cretaceous types; and Acephala, resembling those of the jurassic

and cretaceous formations. He expected to find Crustaceans also,

more nearly approaching the ancient Trilobites than those now

living on the surface of the globe; and among Radiates he looked

for the older forms of sea-urchins, star-fishes, and corals.

Although the collections brought together on this cruise were rich

and interesting, they gave but imperfect answers to these

comprehensive questions. Owing to defects in the dredging

apparatus, the hauls from the greatest depths were lost.

With reference to the glacial period he anticipated still more

positive results. In the same letter the following passage occurs:

"There is, however, still one kind of evidence wanting, to remove

all doubt that the greater extension of glaciers in former ages was

connected with cosmic changes in the physical condition of our

globe. Namely, all the phenomena relating to the glacial period

must be found in the southern hemisphere, accompanied by the same

characteristic features as in the north, but with this essential

difference,--that everything must be reversed. The trend of the

glacial abrasions must be from the south northward, the lee-side of

abraded rocks must be on the north side of the hills and mountain

ranges, and the boulders must have traveled from the south to their

present position. Whether this be so or not, has not yet been

ascertained by direct observation. I expect to find it so

throughout the temperate and cold zones of the southern hemisphere,

with the exception of the present glaciers of Terra del Fuego and

Patagonia, which may have transported boulders in every direction.

Even in Europe, geologists have not yet sufficiently discriminated

between local glaciers and the phenomena connected with their

different degrees of successive retreat on the one hand; and, on

the other, the facts indicating the action of an extensive sheet of

ice moving over the whole continent from north to south. Among the

facts already known from the southern hemisphere are the so-called

rivers of stone in the Falkland Islands, which attracted the

attention of Darwin during his cruise with Captain Fitzroy, and

which have remained an enigma to this day. I believe it will not be

difficult to explain their origin in the light of the glacial

theory, and I fancy they may turn out to be ground moraines similar

to the 'horsebacks' in Maine.

"You may ask what this question of drift has to do with deep-sea

dredging? The connection is closer than may at first appear. If

drift is not of glacial origin, but is the product of marine

currents, its formation at once becomes a matter for the Coast

Survey to investigate. But I believe it will be found in the end,

that so far from being accumulated by the sea, the drift of the

Patagonian lowlands has been worn away by the sea to its present

outline, like the northern shores of South America and Brazil.". . .

This is not the place for a detailed account of the voyage of the

Hassler, but enough may be told to show something of Agassiz's own

share in it. A journal of scientific and personal experience, kept

by Mrs. Agassiz under his direction, was nearly ready for

publication at the time of his death. The two next chapters,

devoted to the cruise of the Hassler, are taken from that

manuscript. A portion of it appeared many years ago in the pages of

the "Atlantic Monthly."

CHAPTER 23.

1871-1872: AGE 64-65.

Sailing of the Hassler.

Sargassum Fields.

Dredging at Barbados.

From the West Indies to Rio de Janeiro.

Monte Video.

Quarantine.

Glacial Traces in the Bay of Monte Video.

The Gulf of Mathias.

Dredging off Gulf of St. George.

Dredging off Cape Virgens.

Possession Bay.

Salt Pool.

Moraine.

Sandy Point.

Cruise through the Straits.

Scenery.

Wind Storm.

Borja Bay.

Glacier Bay.

Visit to the Glacier.

Chorocua Bay.

The vessel was to have started in August, but, owing to various

delays in her completion, she was not ready for sea until the late

autumn. She finally sailed on December 4, 1871, on a gray

afternoon, which ushered in the first snow-storm of the New England

winter. Bound for warmer skies, she was, however, soon in the

waters of the Gulf Stream, where the work of collecting began in

the fields of Sargassum, those drifting, wide-spread expanses of

loose sea-weed carrying a countless population, lilliputian in

size, to be sure, but very various in character. Agassiz was no

less interested than other naturalists have been in the old

question so long asked and still unanswered, about the Sargassum.

"Where is its home, and what its origin? Does it float, a rootless

wanderer on the deep, or has it broken away from some submarine

attachment?" He had passed through the same region before, in going

to Brazil, but then he was on a large ocean steamer, while from the

little Hassler, of 360 tons, one could almost fish by hand from the

Sargassum fields. Some of the chief results are given in the

following letter.

TO PROFESSOR PEIRCE.

ST. THOMAS, December 15, 1871.

. . .As soon as we reached the Gulf Stream we began work. Indeed,

Pourtales had organized a party to study the temperatures as soon

as we passed Gay Head, and will himself report to you his results.

My own attention was entirely turned to the Gulf weed and its

inhabitants, of which we made extensive collections. Our

observations on the floating weed itself favor the view of those

who believe it to be torn from rocks, on which Sargassum naturally

grows. I made a simple experiment which seems to me conclusive. Any

branch of the sea-weed which is deprived of its FLOATS sinks at

once to the bottom of the water, and these floats are not likely to

be the first parts developed from the spores. Moreover, after

examining large quantities of the weed, I have not seen a single

branch, however small, which did not show marks of having been torn

from a solid attachment.

You may hardly feel an interest in my zoological observations, but

I am sure you will be glad to learn that we had the best

opportunity of carefully examining most of the animals known to

inhabit the Gulf weed, and some also which I did not know to occur

among them. The most interesting discovery of our voyage thus far,

however, is that of a nest built by a fish, and floating on the

broad ocean with its living freight. On the 13th, Mr. Mansfield,

one of our officers, brought me a ball of Gulf weed which he had

just picked up, and which excited my curiosity to the utmost. It

was a round mass of Sargassum about the size of two fists. The bulk

of the ball was made up of closely packed branches and leaves, held

together by fine threads, running through them in every direction,

while other branches hung more loosely from the margin. Placed in a

large bowl of water it became apparent that the loose branches

served to keep the central mass floating, cradle-like, between

them. The elastic threads, which held the ball of Gulf weed

together, were beaded at intervals, sometimes two or three beads

close together, or a bunch of them hanging from the same cluster of

threads, or occasionally scattered at a greater distance from each

other. Nowhere was there much regularity in the distribution of the

beads. They were scattered pretty uniformly throughout the whole

ball of seaweed, and were themselves about the size of an ordinary

pin's head. Evidently we had before us a nest of the most curious

kind, full of eggs. What animal could have built this singular

nest? It did not take long to ascertain the class to which it

belonged. A common pocket lens revealed at once two large eyes on

the side of the head, and a tail bent over the back of the body, as

in the embryo of ordinary fishes shortly before the period of

hatching. The many empty egg cases in the nest gave promise of an

early opportunity of seeing some embryos, freeing themselves from

their envelope. Meanwhile a number of these eggs containing live

embryos were cut out of the nest and placed in separate glass jars,

in order to multiply the chances of preserving them; while the nest

as a whole was secured in alcohol, as a memorial of our discovery.

The next day I found two embryos in my glass jars; they moved

occasionally in jerks, and then rested a long time motionless on

the bottom of the jar. On the third day I had over a dozen of these

young fishes, the oldest beginning to be more active. I need not

relate in detail the evidence I soon obtained that these embryos

were actually fishes. . .But what kind of fish was it? At about the

time of hatching, the fins differ too much from those of the adult,

and the general form has too few peculiarities, to give any clew to

this problem. I could only suppose it would prove to be one of the

pelagic species of the Atlantic. In former years I had made a

careful study of the pigment cells of the skin in a variety of

young fishes, and I now resorted to this method to identify my

embryos. Happily we had on board several pelagic fishes alive. The

very first comparison I made gave the desired result. The pigment

cell of a young Chironectes pictus proved identical with those of

our little embryos. It thus stands, as a well authenticated fact,

that the common pelagic Chironectes of the Atlantic, named Ch.

pictus by Cuvier, builds a nest for its eggs in which the progeny

is wrapped up with the materials of which the nest itself is

composed; and as these materials consist of the living Gulf weed,

the fish cradle, rocking upon the deep ocean, is carried along as

in an arbor, which affords protection and afterwards food also, to

its living freight. This marvelous story acquires additional

interest, when we consider the characteristic peculiarities of the

genus Chironectes. As its name indicates, it has fin-like hands;

that is to say, the pectoral fins are supported by a kind of long

wrist-like appendage, and the rays of the ventrals are not unlike

rude fingers. With these limbs these fishes have long been known to

attach themselves to sea-weeds, and rather to walk than to swim in

their natural element. But now that we know their mode of

reproduction, it may fairly be asked if the most important use of

their peculiarly constructed fins is not the building of their

nest?. . .There thus remains one closing chapter to the story. May

some naturalist, becalmed among the Gulf weed, have the good

fortune to witness the process by which the nest is built. . .

This whole investigation was of the greatest interest to Agassiz,

and, coming so early in the voyage, seemed a pleasant promise of

its farther opportunities. The whole ship's company soon shared his

enthusiasm, and the very sailors gathered about him in the

intervals of their work, or hung on the outskirts of the scientific

circle. A pause of a few days was made at one or two of the West

Indian islands, at St. Thomas and Barbados. At the latter, the

first cast of the large dredge was made on a ledge of shoals in a

depth of eighty fathoms, and, among countless other things, a

number of stemmed crinoids and comatulae were brought up. An ardent

student of the early fossil echinoderms, it was a great pleasure to

Agassiz to gather their fresh and living representatives. It was

like turning a leaf of the past and finding the subtle thread which

connects it with the present.

TO PROFESSOR PEIRCE.

PERNAMBUCO, January 16, 1872.

MY DEAR PEIRCE,

I should have written to you from Barbados, but the day before we

left the island was favorable for dredging, and our success in that

line was so unexpectedly great, that I could not get away from the

specimens, and made the most of them for study while I had the

chance. We made only four hauls, in between seventy-five and one

hundred and twenty fathoms. But what hauls! Enough to occupy half a

dozen competent zoologists for a whole year, if the specimens could

be kept fresh for that length of time. The first haul brought up a

Chemidium-like sponge; the next gave us a crinoid, very much like

the Rhizocrinus lofotensis, but probably different; the third, a

living Pleurotomaria; the fourth, a new genus of Spatangoids, etc.,

etc., not to speak of the small fry. We had the crinoid alive for

ten or twelve hours. When contracted, the pinnules are pressed

against the arms, and the arms themselves shut against one another,

so that the whole looks like a swash made up of a few long, coarse

twines. When the animal opens, the arms at first separate without

bending outside, so that the whole looks like an inverted pentapod;

but gradually the tips of the arms bend outward as the arms diverge

more and more, and when fully expanded the crown has the appearance

of a lily of the L. martagon type, in which each petal is curved

upon itself, the pinnules of the arms spreading laterally more and

more, as the crown is more fully open. I have not been able to

detect any motion in the stem traceable to contraction, though

there is no stiffness in its bearing. When disturbed, the pinnules

of the arms first contract, the arms straighten themselves out, and

the whole gradually and slowly closes up. It was a very impressive

sight for me to watch the movements of the creature, for it not

only told of its own ways, but at the same time afforded a glimpse

into the countless ages of the past, when these crinoids, so rare

and so rarely seen nowadays, formed a prominent feature of the

animal kingdom. I could see, without great effort of the

imagination, the shoal of Lockport teeming with the many genera of

crinoids which the geologists of New York have rescued from that

prolific Silurian deposit, or recall the formations of my native

country, in the hill-sides of which also, among fossils indicating

shoal water deposits, other crinoids abound, resembling still more

closely those we find in these waters. The close affinities of

Rhizocrinus with Apiocrinoids are further exemplified by the fact

that when the animal dies, it casts off its arms, like Apiocrinus,

the head of which is generally found without arms. And now the

question may be asked, what is the meaning of the occurrence of

these animals in deep waters at the present day, when, in former

ages, similar types inhabited shallow seas? Of the fact there can

be no doubt, for it is not difficult to adduce satisfactory

evidence of the shoal-like character of the Silurian deposits of

the State of New York; their horizontal position, combined with the

gradual recession of the higher beds in a southerly direction,

leaves no doubt upon this point; and in the case of the jurassic

formation alluded to above, the combination of the crinoids with

fossils common upon coral reefs, and their presence in atolls of

that period, are satisfactory proofs of my assertion. What does it

mean, then, when we find the Pentacrinus and Rhizocrinus of the

West Indies in deep water only? It seems to me that there is but

one explanation of the fact, namely, that in the progress of the

earth's growth, we must look for such a displacement of the

conditions favorable to the maintenance of certain lower types, as

may recall most fully the adaptations of former ages. It was in

this sense I alluded, in my first letter to you, to the probability

of our finding in deeper water representatives of earlier

geological types; and if my explanation is correct, my anticipation

is also fully sustained. But do the deeper waters of the present

constitution of our globe really approximate the conditions for the

development of animal life, which existed in the shallower seas of

past geological ages? I think they do, or at least I believe they

approach it as nearly as anything can in the present order of

things upon earth; for the depths of the ocean alone can place

animals under a pressure corresponding to that caused by the heavy

atmosphere of earlier periods. But, of course, such high pressure

as animals meet in great depths cannot be a favorable condition for

the development of life; hence the predominance of lower forms in

the deep sea. The rapid diminution of light with the increasing

depth, and the small amount of free oxygen in these waters under

greater and greater pressure, not to speak of other limitations

arising from the greater uniformity of the conditions of existence,

the reduced amount and less variety of nutritive substances, etc.,

etc., are so many causes acting in the same direction and with

similar results. For all these reasons, I have always expected to

find that the animals living in great depths would prove to be of a

standing, in the scale of structural complications, inferior to

those found in shoal waters or near shore; and the correlation

elsewhere pointed out between the standing of animals and their

order of succession in geological times (see "Essay on

Classification ") justifies another form of expression of these

facts, namely, that in deeper waters we should expect to find

representatives of earlier geological periods. There is in all this

nothing which warrants the conclusion that any of the animals now

living are lineal descendants of those of earlier ages; nor does

their similarity to those of earlier periods justify the statement

that the cretaceous formation is still extant. It would be just as

true to nature to say that the tertiaries are continued in the

tropics, on account of the similarity of the miocene mammalia to

those of the torrid zone.

We have another case in the Pleurotomaria. It is not long since it

has been made known that the genus Pleurotomaria is not altogether

extinct, a single specimen having been discovered about ten years

ago in the West Indies. Even Pictet, in the second edition of his

Paleontology, still considers Pleurotomaria as extinct, and as

belonging to the fossiliferous formations which extend from the

Silurian period to the Tertiary. Of the living species found at

Marie Galante, nothing is known except the specific characteristics

of the shell. We dredged it in one hundred and twenty fathoms, on

the west side of Barbados, alive, and kept it alive for twenty-four

hours, during which time the animal expanded and showed its

remarkable peculiarities. It is unquestionably the type of a

distinct family, entirely different from the other Mollusks with

which it has been hitherto associated. Mr. Blake has made fine

colored drawings of it, which may be published at some future

time. . .The family of the Pleurotomariae numbers between four and

five hundred fossil species, beginning in the Silurian deposits, but

especially numerous in the carboniferous and jurassic formations.

The sponges afford another interesting case. When the first number

of the great work of Goldfuss, on the fossils of Germany, made its

appearance, about half a century ago, the most novel types it made

known were several genera of sponges from the jurassic and

cretaceous beds, described under the names of Siphonia, Chemidium,

and Scyphia. Nothing of the kind has been known among the living to

this day; and yet, the first haul of the dredge near Barbados gave

us a Chemidium, or, at least, a sponge so much like the fossil

Chemidium, that it must remain for future comparisons to determine

whether there are any generic differences between our living sponge

and the fossil. The next day brought us a genuine Siphonia, another

genus thus far only known from the jurassic beds; and it is worth

recording, that I noticed in the collection of Governor Rawson

another sponge,--brought to him by a fisherman who had caught it on

his line, on the coast of Barbados,--which belongs to the genus

Scyphia. Thus the three characteristic genera of sponges from the

secondary formation, till now supposed to be extinct, are all three

represented in the deep waters of the West Indies. . .

Another family of organized beings offers a similar testimony to

that already alluded to. If there is a type of Echinoderms

characteristic of a geological period, it is the genus Micraster of

the cretaceous formation, in its original circumscription. No

species of this genus is known to have existed during the Tertiary

era, and no living species has as yet been made known. You may

therefore imagine my surprise when the dredge first yielded three

specimens of a small species of that particular group of the genus,

which is most extensively represented in the upper cretaceous beds.

Other examples of less importance might be enumerated; suffice it

now to add that my expectation of finding in deep waters animals

already known, but thus far exceedingly rare in museums, is already

in a measure realised. . .

Little can be said of the voyage from the West Indies to Rio de

Janeiro. It had the usual vicissitudes of weather, with here and

there a flight (so it might justly be called) of flying-fish, a

school of porpoises or dog-fish, or a sail in the distance, to

break the monotony. At Rio de Janeiro it became evident that the

plan of the voyage must be somewhat curtailed. This was made

necessary partly by the delays in starting,--in consequence of

which the season would be less favorable than had been anticipated

along certain portions of the proposed route,--and partly by the

defective machinery, which had already given some trouble to the

Captain. The Falkland Islands, the Rio Negro, and the Santa Cruz

rivers were therefore renounced; with what regret will be

understood by those who know how hard it is to be forced to break

up a scheme of work, which was originally connected in all its

parts. The next pause was at Monte Video; but as there was a strict

quarantine, Agassiz was only allowed to land at the Mount, a hill

on the western side of the bay, the geology of which he was anxious

to examine. He found true erratics--loose pebbles, granite, gneiss,

and granitic sandstone, having no resemblance to any native rock in

the vicinity--scattered over the whole surface of the hill to its

very summit. The hill itself had also the character of the "roches

moutonnees" modeled by ice in the northern hemisphere. As these

were the most northern erratics and glaciated surfaces reported in

the southern hemisphere, the facts there were very interesting to

him.

With dredgings off the Rio de la Plata, and along the coast between

that and the Rio Negro, the vessel held on her way to the Gulf of

Mathias, a deep, broad bay running some hundred miles inland, and

situated a little south of the Rio Negro. Here some necessary

repairs enforced a pause, of which Agassiz took advantage for

dredging and for studying the geology of the cliffs along the north

side of the bay. As seen from the vessel, they seemed to be

stratified with extraordinary evenness and regularity to within a

few feet of the top, the summit being crowned with loose sand.

Farther on, they sank to sand dunes piled into rounded banks and

softly moulded ledges, like snow-drifts. Landing the next day at a

bold bluff marked Cliff End on the charts, he found the lower

stratum to consist of a solid mass of tertiary fossils, chiefly

immense oysters, mingled, however, with sea-urchins. Superb

specimens were secured,--large boulders crowded with colossal

shells and perfectly preserved echini. From the top of the cliff,

looking inland, only a level plain was seen, stretching as far as

the eye could reach, broken by no undulations, and covered with

low, scrubby growth. The seine was drawn on the beach, and yielded

a good harvest for the fish collection. At evening the vessel

anchored at the head of the bay, off the Port of San Antonio. The

name would seem to imply some settlement; but a more lonely spot

cannot be imagined. More than thirty years ago, Fitzroy had sailed

up this bay, partially surveyed it, and marked this harbor on his

chart. If any vessel has broken the loneliness of its waters since,

no record of any such event has been kept. Of the presence of man,

there was no sign. Yet the few days passed there were among the

pleasantest of the voyage to Agassiz. The work of the dredge and

seine was extremely successful, and the rambles inland were

geological excursions of great interest. Here he had the first

sight of the guanaco of the Patagonian plains. The weather was

fine, and at night-fall, to the golden light of sunset succeeded

the fitful glow, over land and water, of the bonfires built by the

sailors on the beach. Returning to the ship after dark, the various

parties assembled in the wardroom, to talk over the events of the

day and lay out plans for the morrow. These are the brightest hours

in such a voyage, when the novelty of the locality gives a zest to

every walk or row, and all are full of interest in a new and

exciting life. One is more tolerant even of monotonous natural

features in a country so isolated, so withdrawn from human life and

occupation. The very barrenness seems in harmony with the intense

solitude.

The Hassler left her anchorage on this desolate shore on an evening

of singular beauty. It was difficult to tell when she was on her

way, so quietly did she move through the glassy waters, over which

the sun went down in burnished gold, leaving the sky without a

cloud. The light of the beach fires followed her till they too

faded, and only the phosphorescence of the sea attended her into

the night. Rough and stormy weather followed this fair start, and

only two more dredgings were possible before reaching the Strait of

Magellan. One was off the Gulf of St. George, where gigantic

star-fishes seemed to have their home. One of them, a superb

basket-fish, was not less than a foot and a half in diameter; and

another, like a huge sunflower of reddish purple tint, with

straight arms, thirty-seven in number, radiating from the disk, was

of about the same size. Many beautiful little sea-urchins came up

in the same dredging. About fifty miles north of Cape Virgens, in

tolerably calm weather, another haul was tried, and this time the

dredge returned literally solid with Ophiurans.

On Wednesday, March 13th, on a beautifully clear morning, like the

best October weather in New England, the Hassler rounded Cape

Virgens and entered the Strait of Magellan. The tide was just on

the flood, and all the conditions favorable for her run to her

first anchorage in the Strait at Possession Bay. Here the working

force divided, to form two shore parties, one of which, under

Agassiz's direction, the reader may follow. The land above the

first shore bluff at Possession Bay rises to a height of some four

hundred feet above the sea-level, in a succession of regular

horizontal terraces, of which Agassiz counted eight. On these

terraces, all of which are built, like the shore-bluffs, of

tertiary deposits, were two curious remnants of a past state of

things. The first was a salt-pool lying in a depression on the

second terrace, some one hundred and fifty feet above the sea. This

pool contained living marine shells, identical with those now found

along the shore. Among them were Fusus, Mytilus, Buccinum,

Fissurella, Patella, and Voluta, all found in the same numeric

relations as those in which they now exist upon the beach below.

This pool is altogether too high to be reached by any tidal

influence, and undoubtedly indicates an old sea-level, and a

comparatively recent upheaval of the shore. The second was a

genuine moraine, corresponding in every respect to those which

occur all over the northern hemisphere. Agassiz came upon it in

ascending to the third terrace above the salt-pool and a little

farther inland. It had all the character of a terminal moraine in

contact with an actual glacier. It was composed of heterogeneous

materials,--large and small pebbles and boulders impacted together

in a paste of clayey gravel and sand. The ice had evidently

advanced from the south, for the mass had been pushed steeply up on

the southern side, and retained so sharp an inclination on that

face that but little vegetation had accumulated upon it. The

northern side, on the contrary, was covered with soil and

overgrown; it sloped gently off,--pebbles and larger stones being

scattered beyond it. The pebbles and boulders of this moraine were

polished, scratched, and grooved, and bore, in short, all the usual

marks of glacial action. Agassiz was naturally delighted with this

discovery. It was a new link in the chain of evidence, showing that

the drift phenomena are connected at the south as well as at the

north with the action of ice, and that the frozen Arctic and

Antarctic fields are but remnants of a sheet of ice, which has

retreated from the temperate zones of both hemispheres to the polar

regions. The party pushed on beyond the moraine to a hill of

considerable height, which gave a fine view of the country toward

Mount Aymon and the so-called Asses' Ears. They brought back a

variety of game, but their most interesting scientific acquisitions

were boulders from the moraine scored with glacial characters, and

shells from the salt pool.

Still accompanied by beautiful weather, the Hassler anchored at the

Elizabeth Islands and at San Magdalena. Here Agassiz had an

opportunity of examining the haunts and rookeries of the penguins

and cormorants, and obtaining fine specimens of both. As the

breeding places and the modes of life of these animals have been

described by other travelers, there is nothing new to add from his

impressions, until the vessel anchored, on the 16th March, before

Sandy Point, the only permanent settlement in the Strait.

Here there was a pause of several days, which gave Agassiz an

opportunity to draw the seine with large results for his marine

collections. By the courtesy of the Governor, he had also an

opportunity of making an excursion along the road leading to the

coal-mines. The wooded cliffs, as one ascends the hills toward the

mines, are often bold and picturesque, and Agassiz found that

portions of them were completely built of fossil shells. There is

an oyster-bank, some one hundred feet high, overhanging the road in

massive ledges that consist wholly of oyster-valves, with only

earth enough to bind them together. He was inclined, from the

character of the shells, to believe that the coal must be

cretaceous rather than tertiary.

On Tuesday, the 19th March, the Hassler left Sandy Point. The

weather was beautiful,--a mellow autumn day with a reminiscence of

summer in its genial warmth. The cleft summit of Sarmiento was

clear against the sky, and the snow-fields, swept over by alternate

light and shadow, seemed full of soft undulations. The evening

anchorage was in the Bay of Port Famine, a name which marks the

site of Sarmiento's ill-fated colony, and recalls the story of the

men who watched and waited there for the help that never came. The

stay here was short, and Agassiz spent the time almost wholly in

studying the singularly regular, but completely upturned strata

which line the beach, with edges so worn down as to be almost

completely even with each other.

For many days after this, the Hassler pursued her course, past a

seemingly endless panorama of mountains and forests rising into the

pale regions of snow and ice, where lay glaciers in which every

rift and crevasse, as well as the many cascades flowing down to

join the waters beneath, could be counted as she steamed by them.

Every night she anchored in the sheltered harbors formed by the

inlets and fords which break the base of the rocky walls, and often

lead into narrower ocean defiles penetrating, one knows not

whither, into the deeper heart of these great mountain masses.

These were weeks of exquisite delight to Agassiz. The vessel often

skirted the shore so closely that its geology could be studied from

the deck. The rounded shoulders of the mountains, in marked

contrast to their peaked and jagged crests, the general character

of the snow-fields and glaciers, not crowded into narrow valleys as

in Switzerland, but spread out on the open slopes of the loftier

ranges, or, dome like, capping their summits,--all this afforded

data for comparison with his past experience, and with the

knowledge he had accumulated upon like phenomena in other regions.

Here, as in the Alps, the abrupt line, where the rounded and worn

surfaces of the mountains (moutonnees, as the Swiss say) yield to

their sharply cut, jagged crests, showed him the ancient and

highest line reached by the glacial action. The long, serrated edge

of Mount Tarn, for instance, is like a gigantic saw, while the

lower shoulders of the mass are hummocked into a succession of

rounded hills. In like manner the two beautiful valleys, separated

by a bold bluff called Bachelor's Peak, are symmetrically rounded

on their slopes, while their summits are jagged and rough.

On one occasion the Hassler encountered one of those sudden and

startling flaws of wind common to the Strait. The breeze, which had

been strong all day, increased with sudden fury just as the vessel

was passing through a rather narrow channel, which gave the wind

the additional force of compression. In an inconceivably short

time, the channel was lashed into a white foam; the roar of wind

and water was so great you could not hear yourself speak, though

the hoarse shout of command and the answering cry of the sailors

rose above the storm. To add to the confusion, a loose sail slatted

as if it would tear itself in pieces, with that sharp, angry,

rending sound which only a broad spread of loose canvas can make.

It became impossible to hold the vessel against the amazing power

of the blast, and the Captain turned her round with the intention

of putting her into Borja Bay, not far from which, by good fortune,

she chanced to be. As she came broadside to the wind in turning, it

seemed as if she must be blown over, so violently did she careen.

Once safely round, she flew before the wind, which now became her

ally instead of her enemy, and by its aid she was soon abreast of

Borja Bay. Never was there a more sudden transition from chaos to

peace than that which ensued as she turned in from the tumult in

the main channel to the quiet waters of the bay. The Hassler almost

filled the tiny harbor shut in between mountains. She lay there

safe and sheltered in breathless calm, while the storm raged and

howled outside. These frequent, almost land-locked coves, are the

safety of navigators in these straits; but after this day's

experience, it was easy to understand how sailing vessels may be

kept waiting for months between two such harbors, struggling vainly

to make a few miles and constantly driven back by sudden squalls.

In this exquisite mountain-locked harbor, the vessel was

weather-bound for a couple of days. Count Pourtales availed himself

of this opportunity to ascend one of the summits. Up to a height of

fifteen hundred feet, the rock was characterized by the smoothed,

rounded surfaces which Agassiz had observed along his whole route

in the Strait. Above that height all was broken and rugged, the

line of separation being as defined as on any valley wall in

Switzerland. It was again impossible to decide, on such short

observation, whether these effects were due to local glacial

action, or whether they belonged to an earlier general ice-period.

But Agassiz became satisfied, as he advanced, that the two sets of

phenomena existed together, as in the northern hemisphere. The

general aspect of the opposite walls of the Strait confirmed him in

the idea that the sheet of ice in its former extension had advanced

from south to north, grinding its way against and over the southern

wall to the plains beyond. In short, he was convinced that, as a

sheet of ice has covered the northern portion of the globe, so a

sheet of ice has covered also the southern portion, advancing, in

both instances, far toward the equatorial regions. His observations

in Europe, in North America, and in Brazil seemed here to have

their closing chapter.

With these facts in his mind, he did not fail to pause before

Glacier Bay, noted for its immense glacier, which seems, as seen

from the main channel, to plunge sheer down into the waters of the

bay. A boat party was soon formed to accompany him to the glacier.

It proved less easy of access than it looked at a distance. A broad

belt of wood, growing, as Agassiz afterward found, on an

accumulation of old terminal moraines, spanned the lower valley

from side to side. Through this wood there poured a glacial river,

emptying itself into the bay. Strange to say, this glacier-washed

forest, touching the ice on one side and the sea on the other, was

full of flowers. The red bells of the glossy-leaved Desfontainia,

the lovely pink blossoms of the Phylesia, the crimson berries of

the Pennetia, stood out in bright relief from a background of mossy

tree-trunks and rocks. After an hour's walking, made laborious by

the spongy character of the ground,--a mixture of loose soil and

decaying vegetation, in which one sank knee-deep,--the gleam of the

ice began to shimmer through the trees; and issuing from the wood,

the party found themselves in front of a glacier wall, stretching

across the whole valley and broken into deep rifts, caves, and

crevasses of dark blue ice. The glacier was actually about a mile

wide; but as the central portion was pressed forward in advance of

the sides, the whole front was not presented at once. It formed a

sharp crescent, with the curve turned outward. One of the caves in

this front wall was some thirty or forty feet high, about a hundred

feet deep, and two or three yards wide at the entrance. At the

further end it narrowed to a mere gallery, where the roof was

pierced by a circular window, quite symmetrical in shape, through

which one looked up to the blue sky and drifting clouds. There must

be strange effects in this ice-cavern, when the sun is high and

sends a shaft of light through its one window to illuminate the

interior.

This first excursion was a mere reconnaissance. An approximate idea

of the dimensions of the glacier, and some details of its

structure, were obtained on a second visit the following day. The

anchorage for the night was in Playa Parda Cove, one of the most

beautiful of the many beautiful harbors of the Magellan Strait. It

is entered by a deep, narrow slit, cut into the mountains on the

northern side of the Strait, and widening at its farther end into a

kind of pocket or basin, hemmed in between rocky walls bordered by

forests, and overhung by snow and ice-fields. The next morning at

half-past three o'clock, just as moonlight was fading before the

dawn, and the mountains were touched with the coming day, the

reveille was sounded for those who were to return to Glacier Bay.

This time Agassiz divided his force so that they could act

independently of each other, though under a general plan laid out

by him. M. de Pourtales and Dr. Steindachner ascended the mountain

to the left of the valley, following its ridge, in the hope of

reaching a position from which they could discover the source and

the full length of the glacier. In this they did not succeed,

though M. de Pourtales estimated its length, as far as he could see

from any one point, to be about three miles, beyond which it was

lost in the higher range. It made part of a net-work of glaciers

running back into a large massif of mountains, and fed by many a

neve on their upper slopes. The depth as well as the length of this

glacier remains somewhat problematical, and indeed all the

estimates in so cursory a survey must be considered as

approximations rather than positive results. The glazed surface of

the ice is an impediment to any examination from the upper side. It

would be impossible to spring from brink to brink of a crevasse, as

is so constantly done by explorers of Alpine glaciers where the

edges of the cracks are often snowy or granular. Here the edges of

the crevasses are sharp and hard, and to spring across one of any

size would be almost certain death. There is no hold for an Alpine

stock, no grappling point for hands or feet. Any investigation from

the upper surface would, therefore, require special apparatus, and

much more time than Agassiz and his party could give. Neither was

an approach from the side very easy. The glacier arches so much in

the centre, and slopes away so steeply, that when one is in the

lateral depression between it and the mountain, one faces an almost

perpendicular wall of ice, which blocks the vision completely. M.

de Pourtales measured one of the crevasses in this wall, and found

that it had a depth of some seventy feet. Judging from the

remarkable convexity of the glacier, it can hardly be less in the

centre than two or three times its thickness on the edges,

--something over two hundred feet, therefore. Probably none of

these glaciers of the Strait of Magellan are as thick as those of

Switzerland, though they are often much broader. The mountains are

not so high, the valleys not so deep, as in the Alps; the ice is

consequently not packed into such confined troughs. By some of the

party an attempt was made to ascertain the rate of movement,

signals having been adjusted the day before for its measurement.

During the middle of the day, it advanced at the rate of ten inches

and a fraction in five hours. One such isolated observation is of

course of little comparative value. For himself, Agassiz reserved

the study of the bay, the ancient bed of the glacier in its former

extension. He spent the day in cruising about the bay in the

steam-launch, landing at every point he wished to investigate. His

first care was to examine minutely the valley walls over which the

glacier must once have moved. Every characteristic feature, known

in the Alps as the work of the glaciers, was not only easily

recognizable here, but as perfectly preserved as anywhere in

Switzerland. The rounded knolls to which De Saussure first gave the

name of roches moutonnees were smoothed, polished, scratched, and

grooved in the direction of the ice movement, the marks running

mostly from south to north, or nearly so. The general trend of the

scratches and furrows showed them to have been continuous from one

knoll to another. The furrows were of various dimensions, sometimes

shallow and several inches broad, sometimes narrow with more

defined limits, gradually passing into mere lines on a very

smoothly polished surface. Even the curious notches scooped out of

the even surfaces, and technically called "coups de gouge," were

not wanting. In some places the seams of harder rock stood out for

a quarter of an inch or so above adjoining decomposed surfaces; in

such instances the dike alone retained the glacial marks, which had

been worn away from the softer rock.

The old moraines were numerous and admirably well preserved.

Agassiz examined with especial care one colossal lateral moraine,

standing about two miles below the present terminus of the ice and

five hundred feet above the sea-level. It consisted of the same

rocks as those found on the present terminal moraine, part of them

being rounded and worn, while large, angular boulders rested above

the smaller materials. This moraine forms a dam across a trough in

the valley wall, and holds back the waters of a beautiful lake,

about a thousand feet in length and five hundred in width, shutting

it in just as the Lake of Meril in Switzerland is held in its basin

by the glacier of Aletsch. There are erratics some two or three

hundred feet above this great moraine, showing that the glacier

must have been more than five hundred feet thick when it left this

accumulation of loose materials at such a height. It then united,

however, with a large glacier more to the west. Its greatest

thickness, as an independent glacier, is no doubt marked, not by

the boulders lying higher up, but by the large moraine which shuts

in the lake. The direct connection of this moraine with the glacier

in its former extension is still further shown by two other

moraines, on lower levels and less perfect, but having the same

relation to the present terminus of the ice. The lower of these is

only one hundred and fifty feet above the actual level of the

glacier. These three moraines occur on the western slope of the

bay. The eastern slope is more broken, and while the rounded knolls

are quite as distinct and characteristic, the erratics are more

loosely scattered over the surface. In mineralogical character they

agree with those on the western wall of the bay. Upon the summits

of some small islands at the entrance of the bay, there are also

some remnants of terminal moraines, formed by the glacier when it

reached the main channel; that is, when it was some three miles

longer than now.

The more recent oscillations, marking the advance and retreat of

the glacier within certain limits, are shown by the successive

moraines heaped up in advance of the present terminal wall. The

central motion here, as in all the Swiss glaciers, is greater than

the lateral, the ice being pushed forward in the middle faster than

on the sides. But there would seem to be more than one axis of

progression in this broad mass of ice; for though the centre is

pushed out beyond the rest, the terminal wall does not present one

uniform curve, but forms a number of more or less projecting angles

or folds. A few feet in front of this wall is a ridge of loose

materials, stones, pebbles, and boulders, repeating exactly the

outline of the ice where it now stands; a few feet in advance of

this, again, is another ridge precisely like it; still a few feet

beyond, another; and so on, for four or five concentric zigzag

crescent-shaped moraines, followed by two others more or less

marked, till they fade into the larger morainic mass, upon which

stands the belt of wood dividing the present glacier from the bay.

Agassiz counted eight distinct moraines between the glacier and the

belt of wood, and four concentric moraines in the wood itself. It

is plain that the glacier has ploughed into the forest within some

not very remote period, for the trees along its margin are loosened

and half uprooted, though not yet altogether decayed. In the

presence of the glacier one ceases to wonder at the effects

produced by so powerful an agent. This sheet of ice, even in its

present reduced extent, is about a mile in width, several miles in

length, and at least two hundred feet in depth. Moving forward as

it does ceaselessly, and armed below with a gigantic file,

consisting of stones, pebbles, and gravel, firmly set in the ice,

who can wonder that it should grind, furrow, round, and polish the

surfaces over which it slowly drags its huge weight. At once

destroyer and fertilizer, it uproots and blights hundreds of trees

in its progress, yet feeds a forest at its feet with countless

streams; it grinds the rocks to powder in its merciless mill, and

then sends them down, a fructifying soil, to the wooded shore

below.

Agassiz would gladly have stayed longer in the neighborhood of

Glacier Bay, and have made it the central point of a more detailed

examination of the glacial phenomena in the Strait. But the

southern winter was opening, and already gave signs of its

approach. At dawn on the 26th of March, therefore, the Hassler left

her beautiful anchorage in Playa Parda Cove, six large glaciers

being in sight from her deck as she came out. The scenery during

the morning had a new scientific interest for Agassiz, because the

vessel kept along the northern side of the Strait, while the course

hitherto had been nearer the southern shore. He could thus better

compare the differences between the two walls of the Strait. The

fact that the northern wall is more evenly worn, more rounded than

the southern, had a special significance for him, as corresponding

with like facts in Switzerland, and showing that the ice-sheet had

advanced across the Strait with greater force in its ascending than

in its descending path. The north side being the strike side, the

ice would have pushed against it with greater force. Such a

difference between the two sides of any hollow or depression in the

direct path of the ice is well known in Switzerland.

Later in the day, a pause was made in Chorocua Bay, where Captain

Mayne's chart makes mention of a glacier descending into the water.

There is, indeed, a large glacier on its western side, but so

inaccessible, that any examination of it would have required days

rather than hours. No one, however, regretted the afternoon spent

here, for the bay was singularly beautiful. On either side, deep

gorges, bordered by richly-wooded cliffs and overhung by ice and

snow-fields, were cut into the mountains. Where these channels

might lead, into what dim recesses of ocean and mountain, could

only be conjectured. The bay, with all its inlets and fiords, was

still as a church. Voices and laughter seemed an intrusion, and a

louder shout came back in echoes from far-off hidden retreats. Only

the swift steamer-ducks, as they shot across, broke the glassy

surface of the water with their arrow-like wake. From this point

the Hassler crossed to Sholl Bay, and anchored at the entrance of

Smythe's Channel. As sunset faded over the snow mountains opposite

her anchorage, their white reflection lay like marble in the water.

CHAPTER 24.

1872: AGE 65.

Picnic in Sholl Bay.

Fuegians.

Smythe's Channel.

Comparison of Glacial Features with those of the Strait of Magellan.

Ancud.

Port of San Pedro.

Bay of Concepcion.

Three Weeks in Talcahuana.

Collections.

Geology.

Land Journey to Santiago.

Scenes along the Road.

Report on Glacial Features to Mr. Peirce.

Arrival at Santiago.

Election as Foreign Associate of the Institute of France.

Valparaiso.

The Galapagos.

Geological and Zoological Features.

Arrival at San Francisco.

The next day forces were divided. The vessel put out into the

Strait again for sounding and dredging, while Agassiz, with a

smaller party, landed in Sholl Bay. Here, after having made a fire

and pitched a tent in which to deposit wraps, provisions etc., the

company dispersed in various directions along the shore,

geologizing, botanizing, and collecting. Agassiz was especially

engaged in studying the structure of the beach itself. He found

that the ridge of the beach was formed by a glacial moraine, while

accumulations of boulders, banked up in morainic ridges, concentric

with one another and with the beach moraine, extended far out from

the shore like partly sunken reefs. The pebbles and boulders of

these ridges were not local, or, at least, only partially so; they

had the same geological character as those of the drift material

throughout the Strait.

The day was favorable for work, and there was little to remind one

of approaching winter. A creek of fresh water, that ran out upon

one part of the beach, led up to a romantic brook, rushing down

through a gorge bordered by moss-grown trees and carpeted by ferns

and lichens in all its nooks and corners. This brook took its rise

in a small lake lying some half a mile behind the beach. The

collections made along the shore in this excursion were large and

various: star-fish, volutas, sea-urchins, sea-anemones, medusae,

doris; many small fishes, also, from the tide-pools, beside a

number drawn in the seine.

Later in the day, when the party had assembled around the beach

fire for rest and refreshment, before returning to the vessel,

their lunch was interrupted by strange and unexpected guests. A

boat rounded the point of the beach, and, as it came nearer, proved

to be full of Fuegian natives, men, women, children, and dogs,

their invariable companions. The men alone landed, some six or

seven in number, and came toward the tent. Nothing could be more

coarse and repulsive than their appearance, in which the brutality

of the savage was in no way redeemed by physical strength or

manliness. They were almost naked, for the short, loose skins tied

around the neck, and hanging from the shoulders, over the back,

partly to the waist, could hardly be called clothing. With swollen

bodies, thin limbs, and stooping forms; with a childish, yet

cunning, leer on their faces, they crouched over the fire,

spreading their hands toward its genial warmth, and all shrieking

at once, "Tabac! tabac!" and "Galleta!"--biscuit. Tobacco there was

none; but the remains of the lunch, such as it was,--hard bread and

pork,--was distributed among them, and they greedily devoured it.

Then the one who, judging from a certain deference paid him by the

others, might be the chief, or leader, seated himself on a stone

and sang in a singular kind of monotonous, chanting tone. The

words, as interpreted by the gestures and expressions, seemed to be

an improvisation concerning the strangers they had found upon the

beach, and were evidently addressed to them. There was something

curious in the character of this Fuegian song. Rather recitative

than singing, the measure had, nevertheless, certain divisions or

pauses, as if to mark a kind of rhythm. It was brought to a close

at regularly recurring intervals, and ended always in the same way,

and on the same note, with a rising inflection of the voice. When

the song was finished, a certain surprise and expectancy in the

listeners kept them silent. This seemed to trouble the singer, who

looked round with a comical air of inquiring disappointment. Thus

reminded, the audience were quick to applaud, and then he laughed

with pleasure, imitated the clapping of the hands in an awkward

way, and nothing loth, began to sing again.

The recall gun from the Hassler brought this strange scene to a

close, and the party hastened down to the beach, closely followed

by their guests, who still clamorously demanded tobacco. Meanwhile

the women had brought the boat close to that of the Hassler at the

landing. They all began to laugh, talk, and gesticulate, and seemed

a noisy grew, chattering unceasingly, with amazing rapidity, and

all together. Their boat, with the babies and dogs to add to the

tumult, was a perfect babel of voices. They put off at once,

keeping as close as they could to the Hassler boat, and reaching

the vessel almost at the same time. They were not allowed to come

on board, but tobacco and biscuit, as well as bright calico and

beads for the women, were thrown down to them. They scrambled and

snatched fiercely, like wild animals, for whatever they could

catch. They had some idea of barter, for when they found they had

received all that they were likely to get gratuitously, they held

up bows and arrows, wicker baskets, birds, and the large

sea-urchins, which are an article of food with them. Even after the

steamer had started, they still clung to the side, praying,

shrieking, screaming, for more "tabac." When they found it a

hopeless chase, they dropped off, and began again the same chanting

recitative, waving their hands in farewell.

Always interested in the comparative study of the races, Agassiz

regretted that he had no other opportunity of observing the natives

of this region and comparing them with the Indians he had seen

elsewhere, in Brazil and in the United States. It is true that he

and his companions, when on shore, frequently came upon their

deserted camps, or single empty huts; and their canoes followed the

Hassler several times, but never when it was convenient to stop and

let them come up with the vessel. This particular set were not in a

canoe, but in a large boat of English build. Probably they had

stolen it, or had found it, perhaps, stranded on the shore. They

are usually, however, in canoes of their own making. One can only

wonder that people ingenious enough to construct canoes so well

modeled and so neatly and strongly put together, should have

invented nothing better in the way of a house than a hut built of

flexible branches, compared with which a wigwam is an elaborate

dwelling. These huts are hood-like in shape, and too low for any

posture but that of squatting or lying down. In front is always a

scorched spot on the ground, where their handful of fire has

smouldered; and at one side, a large heap of empty shells, showing

that they had occupied this place until they had exhausted the

supply of mussels, on which they chiefly live. When this is the

case, they move to some other spot, gather a few branches,

reconstruct their frail shelter, and continue the same life.

Untaught by their necessities, they wander thus, naked and

homeless, in snow, mist, and rain, as they have done for ages,

asking of the land only a strip of beach and a handful of fire; and

of the ocean, shell-fish enough to save them from starvation.

The Hassler had now fairly entered upon Smythe's Channel, and was

anchored at evening (March 27th) in Otway Bay, a lake-like harbor,

broken by islands. Mount Burney, a noble, snow-covered mountain,

corresponding to Mount Sarmiento in grandeur of outline, was in

full view, but was partially veiled in mist. On the following day,

however, the weather was perfect for the sail past Sarmiento Range

and Snowy Glacier, which were in sight all day. Blue could not be

more deep and pure, nor white more spotless, than their ice and

snow-fields. Toward the latter part of the day, an immense expanse

of snow opened out a little beyond Snowy Range. It was covered with

the most curious snow hummocks, forming high cones over the whole

surface, their shadows slanting over the glittering snow in the

afternoon sunshine. They were most fantastic in shape, and some

fifty or sixty in number. At first sight, they resembled heaped-up

mounds or pyramids of snow; but as the vessel approached, one group

of them, so combined as to simulate a fortification, showed a face

of rock where the snow had been blown away, and it seemed therefore

probable that all were alike,--snow-covered pinnacles of rock.

The evening anchorage on the 28th was in Mayne's Harbor, a pretty

inlet of Owen's Island. Here the vessel was detained for

twenty-four hours by the breaking of the reversing rod. The

engineers repaired it to the best of their ability, with such

apparatus as they had, but it was a source of anxiety till a port

was reached where a new one could be supplied. The detention, had

it not been for such a cause, was welcome to the scientific party.

Agassiz found the rounded and moutonnees surfaces and the general

modeling of the outlines of ice no less marked here than in the

Strait; and in a ramble over the hills above the anchorage, M. de

Pourtales came upon very distinct glacial scorings and furrows on

dikes and ledges of greenstone and syenite. They were perfectly

regular, and could be connected by their trend from ledge to ledge,

across intervening spaces of softer decomposed rock, from which all

such surface markings had disappeared.

The country above Mayne's Harbor was pretty, though somewhat

barren. Beyond the narrow belt of woods bordering the shore, the

walking was over soggy hummocks, with little growth upon them

except moss, lichens, and coarse marsh grass. These were succeeded

by ridges of crumbling rock, between which were numerous small

lakes. The land seemed very barren of life. Even the shores of the

ponds were hardly inhabited. No song of bird or buzz of insect

broke the stillness. Rock after rock was turned over in the vain

expectation of finding living things on the damp under side at

least; and the cushions of moss were broken up in the same

fruitless chase. All was barren and lifeless. Not so on the shore,

where the collecting went on rapidly. Dredge and nets were at work

all the morning, and abundant collections were made also from the

little nooks and inlets of the beach. Agassiz found two new

jelly-fishes, and christened them at once as the locality

suggested, one for Captain Mayne, the other for Professor Owen.

Near the shore, birds also seemed more abundant. A pair of

kelp-geese and a steamer duck were brought in, and one of the

officers reported humming-birds flitting across the brook from

which the Hassler's tanks were filled.

Early on the morning of the 30th, while mountains and snow-fields,

woodland and water, still lay between moonlight and sunrise, the

Hassler started for Tarn Bay. It was a beautiful Easter Sunday,

with very little wind, and a soft sky, broken by few clouds. But

such beginnings are too apt to be delusive in this region of wet

and fog, and a heavy rain, with thick mist, came up in the

afternoon. That night, for the first time, the Hassler missed her

anchorage, and lay off the shore near an island, which afforded

some protection from the wind. A forlorn hope was detailed to the

shore, where a large fire was kept burning all night, that the

vessel might not lose her bearings and drift away. In the morning

all was right again, and she kept on her course to Rowlet Narrows.

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