I have referred you to the proper authorities for the account of those improvements which about the year 1830 rendered the compound microscope an efficient and trustworthy instrument.  It was now for the first time that a true general anatomy became possible.  As early as 1816 Treviranus had attempted to resolve the tissues, of which Bichat had admitted no less than twenty-one, into their simple microscopic elements.  How could such an attempt succeed, Henle well asks, at a time when the most extensively diffused of all the tissues, the areolar, was not at all understood?  All that method could do had been accomplished by Bichat and his followers.  It was for the optician to take the next step.  The future of anatomy and physiology, as an enthusiastic micrologist of the time said, was in the hands of Messrs. Schieck and Pistor, famous opticians of Berlin.

In those earlier days of which I am speaking, all the points of minute anatomy were involved in obscurity.  Some found globules everywhere, some fibres.  Students disputed whether the conjunctiva extended over the cornea or not, and worried themselves over Gaultier de Claubry’s stratified layers of the skin, or Breschet’s blennogenous and chromatogenous organs.  The dartos was a puzzle, the central spinal canal a myth, the decidua clothed in fable as much as the golden fleece.  The structure of bone, now so beautifully made out,—­even that of the teeth, in which old Leeuwenhoek, peeping with his octogenarian eyes through the minute lenses wrought with his own hands, had long ago seen the “pipes,” as he called them,—­was hardly known at all.  The minute structure of the viscera lay in the mists of an uncertain microscopic vision.  The intimate recesses of the animal system were to the students of anatomy what the anterior of Africa long was to geographers, and the stories of microscopic explorers were as much sneered at as those of Bruce or Du Chailly, and with better reason.

Now what have we come to in our own day?  In the first place, the minute structure of all the organs has been made out in the most satisfactory way.  The special arrangements of the vessels and the ducts of all the glands, of the air-tubes and vesicles of the lungs, of the parts which make up the skin and other membranes, all the details of those complex parenchymatous organs which had confounded investigation so long, have been lifted out of the invisible into the sight of all observers.  It is fair to mention here, that we owe a great deal to the art of minute injection, by which we are enabled to trace the smallest vessels in the midst of the tissues where they are distributed.  This is an old artifice of anatomists.  The famous Ruysch, who died a hundred and thirty years ago, showed that each of the viscera has its terminal vessels arranged in its own peculiar way; the same fact which you may see illustrated in Gerber’s figures after the minute injections of Berres.  I hope to show you many specimens of this kind in