nstitute, part of its work,
indeed, falling clearly within the scope of pathology; but it differs in
being clearly comprehensible to the general public and of immediate
and tangible interest from the most strictly utilitarian stand-point,
hygiene being, in effect, the tangible link between the more abstract
medical sciences and the affairs of every-day life.

The Institute of Hygiene has also the interest that always attaches to
association with a famous name, for it was here that Professor Koch made
the greater part of those investigations which made his name the best
known, next to that of Pasteur, of any in the field of bacteriology.
In particular, the researches on the cholera germ, and those even more
widely heralded researches that led to the discovery of the bacillus of
tuberculosis, and the development of the remedy tuberculin, of which
so much was at first expected, were made by Professor Koch in the
laboratories of the antiquated building which was then and is still
the seat of the Institute of Hygiene. More recently Professor Koch has
severed his connection with the institution after presiding over it for
many years, having now a semi-private laboratory just across from the
Virchow Institute, in connection with the Charite Hospital; but one
still thinks of the Institute of Hygiene as peculiarly the "Koch
Institute" without injustice, so fully does its work follow the lines
laid out for it by the great leader.

But however much the stamp of any individual personality may rest upon
the institute, it is officially a department of the university, just as
is the Virchow Institute. Like the latter, also, its local habitation
is an antiquated building, strangely at variance, according to American
ideas, with its reputation, though by no means noteworthy in this regard
in the case of a German institution. It is situated in a part of the
city distant from any other department of the university, and there is
nothing about it exteriorly to distinguish it from other houses of the
solid block in which it stands. Interiorly, it reminds one rather of a
converted dwelling than a laboratory proper. Its rooms are well
enough adapted to their purpose, but they give one the impression of
a makeshift. The smallest American college would be ill-satisfied with
such an equipment for any department of its work. Yet in these dingy
quarters has been accomplished some of the best work in the new science
of bacteriology that our century