ry meet
together with regularity.

The men who enter into such associations go out from them revitalized,
full of the spirit of propaganda. Returned to their own homes, they
agitate the question of organizing marine laboratories there; and it is
largely through the efforts of the graduates, so to say, of the Naples
laboratory that similar institutions have been established all over the
world.

Thanks largely to the original efforts of Dr. Dohrn, nearly
all civilized countries with a coast-line now have their marine
laboratories. France has half a dozen, two of them under government
control. Russia has two on the Black Sea and one on the French
Mediterranean coast. Great Britain has important stations at St.
Andrews, at Liverpool, and at Plymouth. The Scandinavian peninsula has
also three important stations. Germany shows a paucity by comparison,
which, however, is easily understood when one reflects that the
mother-laboratory at Naples is essentially a German institution despite
its location.

The American stations are located at Woods' Holl and at Cold Spring
Harbor, on opposite coasts of Long Island Sound. The Japanese station is
an adjunct of Tokio University. For the rest, the minor offspring of
the Naples laboratory are too numerous to be cited here. Nor can I enter
into any details regarding even the more important ones. Each in its way
enters into the same general line of work, varying the details according
to the bent of mind of individual directors and the limitations of
individual resources. But in the broader outlines the aim of all is the
same, and what we have seen at Naples is typical of what is best in all
the others.

VI. ERNST HAECKEL AND THE NEW ZOOLOGY

THE DREAM CITY

THE train crept on its tortuous way down the picturesque valley of the
little Saale. At last we saw, high above us, on a jutting crag, three
quaint old castles, in one of which, as we knew from our _Baedeker_;
Goethe at one time lived. We were entering the region of traditions.
Soon we knew we should be passing that famous battle-field on which
Napoleon, in 1806, sealed the fate of Germany for a generation. But this
spot, as seen from the car window, bore no emblem to distinguish it, and
before we were quite sure that we had reached it we had in point of fact
passed on, and the train was coming to a stop. "Jena!" called the guard,
and the scramble for "luggage" began, leaving us for the moment no place
for other thought