A favorite part of his plan was a room which he liked to call his synoptic room. Here was to be the most compact and yet the fullest statement in material form of the animal kingdom as a whole, an epitome of the creation, as it were. Of course the specimens must be few in so limited a space, but each one was to be characteristic of one or other of the various groups included under every large division. Thus each object would contribute to the explanation of the general plan. On the walls there were to be large, legible inscriptions, serving as a guide to the whole, and making this room a simple but comprehensive lesson in natural history. It was intended to be the entrance room for visitors, and to serve as an introduction to the more detailed presentation of the same vast subject, given by the faunal and systematic collections in the other exhibition rooms.
The standard of work involved in this scheme is shown in many of his letters to his students and assistants, to whom he looked for aid in its execution. To one he writes: "You will get your synoptic series only after you have worked up in detail the systematic collection as a whole, the faunal collections in their totality, the geological sequence of the entire group under consideration, as well as its embryology and geographical distribution. Then alone will you be able to know the representatives in each series which will best throw light upon it and complete the other series."
He did not live to fill in this comprehensive outline with the completeness which he intended, but all its details were fully explained by him before his death, and since that time have been carried out by his son, Alexander Agassiz. The synoptic room, and in great part the systematic and faunal collections, are now arranged and under exhibition, and the throngs of visitors during all the pleasant months of the year attest the interest they excite.
This conception, of which the present Museum is the expression, was matured in the brain of the founder before a brick of the building was laid, or a dollar provided for the support of such an institution. It existed for him as his picture does for the artist before it lives upon the canvas. One must have been the intimate companion of his thoughts to know how and to what degree it possessed his imagination, to his delight always, yet sometimes to his sorrow also, for he had it and he had it not. The thought alone was his; the means of execution were far beyond his reach.
His plan was, however, known to many of his friends, and especially he had explained it to Mr. Francis C. Gray, whose intellectual sympathy made him a delightful listener to the presentation of any enlightened purpose. In 1858 Mr. Gray died, leaving in his will the sum of fifty thousand dollars for the establishment of a Museum of Comparative Zoology, with the condition that this sum should be used neither for the erection of buildings nor for salaries, but for the purely scientific needs of such an institution. Though this bequest was not connected in set terms with the collections already existing in Cambridge, its purpose was well understood; and Mr. Gray's nephew, Mr. William Gray, acting upon the intention of his uncle as residuary legatee, gave it into the hands of the President and Fellows of Harvard University. In passing over this trust, the following condition, among others, was made, namely: "That neither the collections nor any building which may contain the same shall ever be designated by any other name than the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard." This is worth noting, because the title was chosen and insisted upon by Agassiz himself in opposition to many who would have had it called after him. To such honor as might be found in connecting his own name with a public undertaking of any kind he was absolutely indifferent. It was characteristic of him to wish, on the contrary, that the name should be as impersonal and as comprehensive as the uses and aims of the institution itself. Yet he could not wholly escape the distinction he deprecated. The popular imagination, identifying him with his work, has re-christened the institution; and, spite of its legal title, its familiar designation is almost invariably the "Agassiz Museum."
Mr. Gray's legacy started a movement which became every day more active and successful. The university followed up his bequest by a grant of land suitable for the site of the building, and since the Gray fund provided for no edifice, an appeal was made to the Legislature of Massachusetts to make good that deficiency. The Legislature granted lands to the amount of one hundred thousand dollars, on condition that a certain additional contribution should be made by private subscription. The sum of seventy-one thousand one hundred and twenty-five dollars, somewhat exceeding that stipulated, was promptly subscribed, chiefly by citizens of Boston and Cambridge, and Agassiz himself gave all the collections he had brought together during the last four or five years, estimated, merely by the outlay made upon them, at ten thousand dollars. The architects, Mr. Henry Greenough and Mr. George Snell, offered the plan as their contribution. The former had long been familiar with Agassiz's views respecting the internal arrangements of the building. The main features had been discussed between them, and now, that the opportunity offered, the plan was practically ready for execution. These events followed each other so rapidly that although Mr. Gray's bequest was announced only in December, 1858, the first sod was turned and the corner-stone of the future Museum was laid on a sunny afternoon in the following June, 1859.* (* The plan, made with reference to the future increase as well as the present needs of the Museum, included a main building 364 feet in length by 64 in width, with wings 205 feet in length by 64 in width, the whole enclosing a hollow square. The structure erected 1859-60 was but a section of the north wing, being two fifths of its whole length. This gave ample space at the time for the immediate requirements of the Museum. Additions have since been made, and the north wing is completed, while the Peabody Museum occupies a portion of the ground allotted to the south wing.)
This event, so full of significance for Agassiz, took place a few days before he sailed for Europe, having determined to devote the few weeks of the college and school vacation to a flying visit in Switzerland. The incidents of this visit were of a wholly domestic nature and hardly belong here. He paused a few days in Ireland and England to see his old friends, the Earl of Enniskillen and Sir Philip Egerton, and review their collections. A day or two in London gave him, in like manner, a few hours at the British Museum, a day with Owen at Richmond, and an opportunity to greet old friends and colleagues called together to meet him at Sir Roderick Murchison's. He allowed himself also a week in Paris, made delightful by the cordiality and hospitality of the professors of the Jardin des Plantes, and by the welcome he received at the Academy, when he made his appearance there. The happiest hours of this brief sojourn in Paris were perhaps spent with his old and dear friend Valenciennes, the associate of earlier days in Paris, when the presence of Cuvier and Humboldt gave a crowning interest to scientific work there.
From Paris he hastened on to his mother in Switzerland, devoting to her and to his immediate family all the time which remained to him before returning to his duties in Cambridge. They were very happy weeks, passed, for the most part, in absolute retirement, at Montagny, near the foot of the Jura, where Madame Agassiz was then residing with her daughter. The days were chiefly spent in an old-fashioned garden, where a corner shut in by ivy and shaded by trees made a pleasant out-of-door sitting-room. There he told his mother, as he had never been able to tell her in letters, of his life and home in the United States, and of the Museum to which he was returning, and which was to give him the means of doing for the study of nature all he had ever hoped to accomplish. His quiet stay here was interrupted only by a visit of a few days to his sister at Lausanne, and a trip to the Diablerets, where his brother, then a great invalid, was staying. He also passed a day or two at Geneva, where he was called to a meeting of the Helvetic Society, which gave him an opportunity of renewing old ties of friendship, as well as scientific relations, with the naturalists of his own country, with Pictet de la Rive, de Candolle, Favre, and others.