1895.] ESSAYS.' 113 



but would supply them with youth, those whose inclinations lead them 

 that way, who had faced the problems as they exist in living nature, 

 who have formed some reasonable notion of their exteme difficulty 

 and who have come to an intelligent determination to solve them. 

 Not many would elect to follow out lines of special investigation ; but 

 a good square look at nature fairly in the face will benefit all, and 

 after taking it they must go their several ways with some respect at 

 least for her laws. Those artistically inclined will find and be inspired 

 by beauties of which they have not dreamed. The philanthropic, the 

 practical, the scientific, will find problems, the value of whose solution 

 cannot be reckoned in thousands or even in millions of dollars. 



The details of a garden that shall be calculated to do this will not 

 detain us long. I have failed to find exactly my ideal in any of the 

 gardens of the Old World that I have been able to visit. Farthest 

 from it is the great botanical of Paris, the Jardin de Plantes. The 

 strictly botanical part of it is a large, rectangular field, enclosed in an 

 iron fence. Here a "dry as dust," artificial and superficial science 

 has had iron sway. The field is as flat as a table, and as rectangular. 

 It is laid out in rectangular walks and small rectangular beds. Each 

 bed is supposed to contain a single species of plant, and related spe- 

 cies and genera stand close together. For man, this is the easiest 

 possible arrangement. It is like the arrangement of cards in a card 

 catalogue. But not by any means is this the easiest for the plants. 

 Their wishes have been altogether ignored. Not one in a hundred 

 has the conditions under which it would best grow in nature ; and as a 

 result they are spindling and sickly, the great majority of them. It 

 is a fitting criticism upon such a superficial science, that in the midst 

 of a teeming city, this entire enclosure, where science has endeavored 

 to make all out-doors as formal and forbidding as possible, is as 

 empty of life as a Death Valley. It would seem that even the spar- 

 rows avoid it ; and for at least one fine afternoon in early September 

 this entire enclosure was monopolized by two lone pilgrims from 

 across the sea. I could not imagine anyone going in there of his own 

 free will and accord. 



Many of the botanical gardens attached to the German universities 

 are vast improvements upon the Paris Jardins de Plantes from an 

 artistic standpoint. In general, however, the chief design in these 

 gardens is to serve technical and special purposes of university stu- 

 dents ; and the general public does not crave the admission that is 

 denied it. 



We should not neglect to mention that nearly every German city, 



