January 30, iSgf.] 



SCIENCE. 



63 



most of us imagine by the horse-car, soon, no doubt, to be 

 supplanted by the electric railway. 



Diametrically opposite, in the near suburbs, is Jamaica 

 Pond. The park grounds almost touch its northern margin ; 

 and separated from it only by the highway and the steep 

 banks on either side is Ward's Pond, well known to skaters, 

 and the head waters of a stream with the uninviting name 

 of Muddy River. It is close to the heart of Brookline, Boyl- 

 ston, and Jamaica Plain, and here it is proposed to plant the 

 Fresh Water Aquarium. 



Also near to Jamaica Plain, and barely at the outer edge 

 of the multiplying streets and thickly settled districts, on the 

 city side of Franklin Park, reached from the heart of the 

 city itself by two lines of electric cars and one line of steam- 

 cars, hardly more than across the road from one of Boston's 

 crowded resorts for pleasure, is the third reservation, the 

 largest tract of all, known as the Long Crouch Woods, des- 

 tined for the display of land animals. 



But now we meet one of the necessary limitations already 

 alluded to. Marine and fresh-water animals are usually ex- 

 hibited in series of aquaria and tanks in buildings, which 

 manifestly need but little space. Land animals, on the con- 

 trary, especially the larger sort, require a great deal of room; 

 and just here comes in the question of the housing and 

 proper exhibition of tropical beasts. We do not wish to 

 show them in cages, as in a stranded circus. Whatever is 

 exhibited should be shown in circumstances and amid sur- 

 roundings as nearly natural as possible, and cleanliness is 

 an important condition. 



Now, the space at command at this end of Franklin Park 

 — about twenty acres — will in noway permit the suitable 

 and satisfactory display of the numerous hordes of tropical 

 animals; and the enormous expense attendant upon their 

 winter housing in such a climate as ours altogether forbids 

 such an undertaking now; our people are not yet eager 

 enough for such shows to give them financial support; it may 

 be that by and by we shall find thai our present plan has 

 outgrown our most sanguine expectations, and be able to 

 secure some cheap waste land not far removed (say the salt 

 marshes north or south of Boston), on which such a general 

 garden could be built up by slow degrees. Such a scheme 

 we may leave to those who come after us. For us, we must 

 dismiss such fond dreams as immediately chimerical, and 

 ask ourselves what we may have, what litnits we should 

 assign ourselves and yet be satisfied. 



When we remember that not one in ten thousand, perhaps 

 not one in fifty thousand, of our city people (not only here 

 in Boston, but anywhere), has ever seen or is in any way 

 familiar with the greater part of the animals and plants that 

 are indigenous to the soil on which he was born and bred ; 

 when we further notice, what I believe is the fact, that not 

 a single collection of living animals in the world has ever 

 been made, either separately or in connection with a larger 

 display, to show the native animals of the region where they 

 are exhibited, although natural-history museums of dead 

 nature very often offer this attraction, — we see at once that 

 we have here an opportunity of setting an example to the 

 world, sure to be followed, to the gain of general education 

 everywhere. The advantages and the interest of such an ex- 

 hibition are plain; more than that, these creatures are the 

 very ones which need least protection and expense, so that 

 the plan is doubly feasible. The only question is. How wide 

 a scope shall we give to the term " indigenous " ? What 

 territory shall we draw upon ? This we may well leave to 

 future experiment, but we should wish at least to show the 



animals and plants of a zone across our continent within the 

 latitude of New England. The New England indigenes 

 would tlien always form the bulk of the collection, and we 

 should have in fact, as well as in name, a New England 

 garden. Thie fact, this name, would have its value and its 

 significanc&; and elephants and giraffes, camels and tigers, 

 would not be expected, and the travelling menagerie and the 

 Fall of Babylon be deprived of no monopoly. 



The garden thus becomes educational : it teaches as a 

 whole the lesson of our surroundings; it impresses the fact 

 that the range of animals is circumscribed within definite 

 areas, however large. It should teach more: it should 

 give some hint, at least, of a wider outlook; it should show 

 how, as we pass beyond the range of our own indigenes, 

 these are replaced by others; it should hint how far we need 

 to go to find this out and the nature of the change. Side by 

 side, then, with our native animals, if we would enlarge the 

 horizon, must we show their kin, even if we go beyond the 

 seas. Such a collection must be limited, to be most instruc- 

 tive. It is now the aim, in the best museums of natural his- 

 tory conducted for educational purposes, to concentrate the 

 attention upon relatively few objects, rather than confuse 

 the mind with the bountiful prodigality of nature. Side bj 

 side with our black and grisly bears we might show the 

 brown bear of Europe and the polar bear, and stop there; as 

 a companion to the opossum, we should look to the home of 

 the marsupials and choose the kangaroo — no need of more; 

 for our larger variety of smaller quadrupeds, our squirrels, 

 moles, mice, and bats, and we may also say for our horned 

 ruminants and our cats, not even so much extra-limital 

 material would be necessary : so that, though some of the miss- 

 ing types should also find a place, such as a sloth, an orni- 

 thorhynchus, or a monkey, the draught on tropical animals 

 would be exceedingly small, and need not be felt as a matter, 

 of concern. 



I have instanced here only a few among the quadrupeds. 

 There is no need of enlarging: the story would be the same 

 with the birds, reptiles, and other animals. Such a collec- 

 tion would be of unique interest and attraction ; its installa- 

 tion in Long Crouch Woods would be all that could be de- 

 sired ; and it would be easy to add such features to the gar- 

 den as would make it equally attractive at all seasons. Thus 

 it is not impossible that special exhibits might be made of 

 birds of passage, during the period of their migrations. A 

 winter garden under glass has been suggested, which might 

 well become one of the chief resorts of the people by day or 

 evening, where in a temxjerate atmosphere, with a varied and 

 soft foliage everywhere, they would find pleasure and profit 

 in looking at flowers and birds, fountains and brooks, and 

 in learning the habits of curious strange creatures at their 

 play. 



If I have dwelt on this division of the Natural History 

 Gardens longer than I should, it has been mainly to show 

 how the very limitations to which the scheme is subject 

 have been made to serve a useful purpose. It is not possible, 

 however, that this part of the plan should be brought to suc- 

 cessful issue at once. The division of the gardens allows 

 the opening of one section at a time,— a very important con- 

 sideration, — and this section, as certainly the most expen- 

 sive, will of course come later. Let us, then, pass for a 

 brief time to the neighboring department, that of the Fresh 

 Water Aquarium at Ward's Pond. 



The spot is a sheltered one. protected by encircling hills, 

 most favorable for our purpose. Here will be relegated not 

 only the animals and plants inhabiting fresh water, but 



