76 OLD-FASHIONED GARDENING 
which we designate as “individuality,” along definite 
lines. And these lines become the tracing of the form 
of our individuality, in whatever we do, visible in a 
thousand ways yet not discernible to any but the close 
observer perhaps. Handwriting is the simplest illus¬ 
tration of this truth; no two persons form a single let¬ 
ter of the alphabet identically the same, and though 
the letter may be perfectly legible in ten thousand 
thousand examples, each will possess a tracing of the 
individuality of the writer. 
What is true of the individual is true of races. So 
it is literally and actually true to say that a certain 
form of architecture, of speech, of art, of music, of 
dancing, of design, of what not, is characteristic of a 
race. It cannot be otherwise; whatever exists at all 
has form—even so elusive a thing as the individuality 
of man, and of men. 
So much for the theory; how does it prove, under 
a test? Almost absurdly true in the case in hand. 
Given a people of the Dutch type—a type that has 
not changed appreciably within the time we are con¬ 
sidering—strong, careful, patient, neat, exact, not par¬ 
ticularly imaginative but gifted with an infinite ca¬ 
pacity for taking pains, there is just one form within 
our ken that corresponds exactly with their character. 
That form is the square; four equal sides it has, and 
four right angles—the embodiment of exactness, neat- 
