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SCIENCE 



[N. S. Vol. XXXI. No. 801 



by the men who are privileged to make and 

 use them; and in economy to the absence 

 of cost other than for meeting the needs of 

 the work in progress at any given time. 

 That they are more likely to be adjuncts 

 rather than independent establishments, in 

 the main, is quite probable, because of the 

 impossibility of doing much thorough- 

 going and far-reaching work apart from 

 the university and other centers about 

 which libraries, herbaria, varied labora- 

 tories and extensive collections of living 

 plants have clustered, and to which fre- 

 quent pilgrimages are sure to be necessary. 



The arrangement of this program assigns 

 to me only an analysis of the general mean- 

 ing and administrative problems of botan- 

 ical gardens, and I am fortunately able to 

 leave to specialists in their several fields the 

 discussion of these phases of botanical 

 gardening that have been touched on only 

 that I might indicate how truly any worthy 

 research plantation is, in fact, a botanical 

 garden. 



To the world at large, nevertheless, a 

 botanical garden is likely to continue to 

 mean, as it now means, a place where plants 

 are attractively and instructively displayed 

 — a museum of living plants. Professor 

 Britton will tell, more forcibly than I 

 could, of its duty to the public, and of 

 the succor to be hoped for from the public 

 that makes it very unwise to overlook this 

 fact, even for a moment. Rather than the 

 garden which is an adjunct to the class 

 room and laboratory, and the research gar- 

 den pure and simple, therefore, tlie botan- 

 ical garden of the future, par excellence— 

 the garden that appeals to the community 

 as being worth while and that reaches 

 beyond the confines of the class room and 

 the laboratory in its direct usefulness — is 

 likely to adopt in its administration more 

 and more the best rules of museum admin- 

 istration, to appeal to the esthetic sense 



first, that through it the mind— and per- 

 haps ultimately and incidentally the pocket- 

 book— may be reached. Only so can it 

 reach its goal as a force in education, and 

 through this come into its own as a maker 

 as well as a giver. To do this, it must be 

 beautiful as well as varied, specialized and 

 didactic ; and its interest and attractiveness 

 must last through the seasons. Few educa- 

 tional synopses or research plantations are 

 capable of standing this test, and a fatality 

 seems to attend their continued mainte- 

 nance. In my judgment, the botanical gar- 

 den of the future that is to appeal to the 

 public like those that (as the one at Kew) 

 most forcefully make this appeal to-day, 

 will be devoted primarily to the presenta- 

 tion of plants in great variety, careful cul- 

 ture and artistic arrangement, and at once 

 exemplifying and indexed by an under- 

 stood taxonomy; teaching special lessons 

 and reaching special ends through adequate 

 supplementation. 



Guided by a botanist whose first love is a 

 broad comparative knowledge of the vege- 

 tation of the earth, planned by an artist 

 whose skill can convert the picture of his 

 mind into something that the eye can see, 

 eared for by a gardener to whom a dande- 

 lion or a dock in place is as desirable as an 

 oak or an orchid out of place is undesirable, 

 such a garden calls for the further constant 

 care of the teacher to insure through un- 

 ceasing watchfulness that what is intended 

 to be educational shall be kept from be- 

 coming near-demonstration, and the alert 

 supervision of the investigator in each 

 field of research so that experiment may 

 not turn into chance and supposedly ade- 

 quate resources prove quite inadequate 

 when drawn on at a critical moment. These 

 talents are rarely if ever embodied in one 

 person. The garden that is to profit by 

 them is likely to cherish their possessors in 

 the order indicated, even though, finally, in 



