February 6, 1903.] 



SCIENCE. 



209 



crime to load upon willing woi-kers a heavy 

 burden of terminology. Far better than 

 this, however desii-able uniformity may be, 

 in itself considered, would it be for each 

 writer to employ, as far as possible, ex- 

 pressions and definitions already current 

 in existing literature, and if forced by the 

 nature of his woik to introduce new ones, 

 to do this as infrequently as possible. 



It may be permitted to insist once more 

 on the inclusivene;5S of the training indis- 

 pensable to success. In phytogeography, 

 to mention only one phase of the subject, 

 the worlc must be done by the botanist 

 rather than by the physical geographer, 

 but nevertheless by a botanist who is suf- 

 ficiently at home in physiography to read 

 and understand what is written in the later 

 pages of the physical development of the 

 earth. Like the geologist he must have 

 an instinct for following up a clue and 

 reading histoiy, often as dim and broken 

 as that of some precious manuscript. He 

 must have a conservative judgment, and 

 yet he must freely employ hypotheses to 

 be as freely abandoned or maintained as 

 occasion reqiiires. He must have the spirit 

 of a bold explorer combined with the cau- 

 tious temper of v a trained investigator. 

 He must be at home in the herbarium, but 

 not choked by its stifling atmosphere; he 

 must be a trained experimenter, but not 

 near-sighted. He is aiming to see for him- 

 self and to transmit to others a faithful 

 picture of the vegetation of the earth— or 

 of that portion of it which he has studied 

 — and to take account of the various fac- 

 tors that are responsible for what is to-day. 

 He is a writer of history, and considering 

 the broken record and the endless diffi- 

 culties to be overcome, it must be admitted 

 that the histories written by phytogeog- 

 raphers compare favorably with those that 

 recount the rise and fall of empires. 



To a student who has had this broad, 

 thorough and deep training, and who has 



still a normal vision, there is an inspiring 

 hope. If any fact is borne in upon us 

 with the force of a demonstration, it is 

 that at least in this corner of the universe 

 in which we live we are certainly witness- 

 ing the slow but sure evolution of an 

 eternal fitness of things, not realized as 

 yet, but approaching its consummation. 

 IMisfits there are, but the exquisite adapta- 

 tions we see have not always been as nearly 

 perfect as they are to-day. Some day 

 with more perfect adaptation, the ideal of 

 science and the vision of prophecy will be 

 fulfilled. 



But workers in science in these days are 

 rightly called upon to show that their work 

 promises something besides the fulfillment 

 of ideals. Modern science, favored as 

 never before with the means of extension 

 and development, should be able to justify 

 its cost to the state by contributing to the 

 betterment of human life. Tested by its 

 capacity to meet this demand, ecology, I 

 think, will not be found wanting. Agri- 

 culture, horticulture and forestry are, con- 

 sciously or not, practical applications of 

 its principles, and their best development 

 has been attained where these principles 

 have been most intelligently observed and 

 applied. It is safe to predict for all these 

 great industries a growth in our own 

 country of which we can at present form 

 but slight conception, and it is equally safe 

 to say that as contributing to this develop- 

 ment the study of ecology, now beginning 

 to take definite and permanent form, will 

 abundantly prove its necessity and value. 

 It is unnecessary to remind you that the 

 early dream of science of an exact analysis 

 of the soil, followed by an adequate supply 

 of lacking elements, resulting in fruitful 

 harvests, has never yet been realized in 

 general agriculture, nor can any such 

 analysis, however complete, take the place 

 of that knowledge of the plant itself, its 



