The Next Stage in the Development of Public Parks

A COMMUNITY must, in the existing state of our civilization, pass through many different stages and become populous and rich before the needs of those minds that have capacity for the higher sphere of professional labor can properly be answered. The log-cabin stage in the evolution of a city calls for a schoolhouse, and nearly always has one; but the wilderness must perforce furnish the young inquirer born near this schoolhouse with all the higher quality of mental food he is likely to get. In a large and growing city, even an elaborate school system, although supplemented by public libraries, colleges, and a university, has been found inadequate for the needs of its citizens. There have been added museums of natural history, art, historical, and archæological museums, and other institutions of similar exalted character, each testifying to the manifold and divergent mental development necessary for the successful growth of a centre of civilization.

It is while this complex growth of a city is going on that sanitary precaution and a due regard for the health and recreation of an increasing population demand more and larger spaces in the forest of chimneys than those furnished by the playgrounds of the early days; and in due time these considerations become so pressing that more or less extensive parks are planned and laid out. Although the rivalry of cities or the generosity of individuals may sometimes lead to an early provision for such open spaces in our newer centres of population, the park is really one of the latest signs of civilization. It is only after we have grown familiar with what museums can do that we arrive at any hearty appreciation of what Nature can also do for us, if we will wait upon her; and thus at last it comes about that no city can claim a high place until it has actually inclosed and guarded a good bit of the open country.

The improvement of sanitary conditions and the culture of the eye and mind through pleasing natural effects are not all that ought to be looked for in these parks. Their mission as instruments of public culture is not fulfilled until they are placed in correlation with the educational system of the city, to the end that both may be made more effective in their influence upon the citizen. Trees and shrubs in the public grounds should be billeted with their proper popular and scientific names, and exhibitions of plants should be arranged in their natural relations, or in accordance with their association and distribution in different climates and countries. So much will readily be granted as belonging to the park regarded as an aid in education, and so far we have already gone in our best parks and gardens. But this is only the beginning, and my object in this paper is to call attention to the higher possibilities in the use of city parks. Just as the park is to give to the denizen in the city that free intercourse with nature which he lost when he built the city, so the acquaintance with the creatures of pasture, woodland, and pond which the country boy enjoys is to be given to the city youth, in a necessarily more formal fashion, and with special reference to the serious study of these creatures.

In a word, the city park, if developed to its highest power, should give the necessary space for zoological gardens containing collections of living animals, — objects less known than plants, but capable of attracting the regard both of young and old. Such gardens furnish materials for the study of life, and supply the comparative anatomist with examples otherwise very difficult to obtain. The artist, also, uses the collections for his studies of animal life, and in treating some subjects must rely on them as his only source of original information. The well-instructed teacher makes them available for exciting his pupils to more earnest attention and better comprehension of problems in physical geography and other studies. He knows that the direct way to a child’s mind lies through its eyes, and that natural history is interesting to all if presented at a proper time in the development of the mind, when the budding senses are beginning to demand explanations of the impressions made by their surroundings.

Zoölogical gardens, as such, are of comparatively recent origin, and, as a rule, have limited their exhibits largely to the higher forms, those that have been called the vertebrates; that is, fishes, frogs, reptiles, birds, and mammals. We look vainly in some of the largest gardens for insects, creatures undoubtedly of humbler structure, but many of them of great beauty, and of so much consequence to the world that but for their activity in carrying pollen from flower to flower a large proportion of plants would bloom in vain, and soon cease to exist. There is the same erroneous neglect of myriads of other socalled lower organisms, whose functions in the economy of nature are so important that their sudden disappearance would fundamentally disturb all the relations of the plants and vertebrates not only to each other, but in large part to their physical surroundings. These branches of the annual kingdom, called by naturalists the invertebrates, have long seemed to be of less interest and importance because they were so far removed from the exalted personality of man, and were in part surrounded by traditions which more or less obscured their true relations to him.

Of late years, however, great attention has been given to the study of minute forms, resulting in a demonstration of the intimate association and probable causative relation existing between many microscopical organisms and a large proportion of human diseases. Modern governments have also assisted the advancement of knowledge in this direction by sending out expeditions to gather all the evidence that could throw light upon the nature and composition of the oceans and the characteristics of their beds, and have thus discovered new and surprising faunas living in the darkness of oceanic abysses. They have also supported researches upon the habits and food of edible fishes, in order to prevent their extinction; and these have been found to be largely dependent on coast faunas, which consist in great part of invertebrates. The water supplies of our great cities have often suffered contamination from the sudden death of abundant growths of these invertebrates, and even municipal governments have been forced to take into account dark problems of biology in which algæ and sponges play important rôles. The attention of mankind has been thoroughly awakened, and ideas have undergone a revolution which has placed nature in a new light. It has been demonstrated that life is continuous and unbroken, and that in the blood and tissue of man himself there are irrefutable proofs of the existence of organic bonds that link him to the lowest forms of living things. The invertebrates are, consequently, no longer subjects of remote importance to the public, and an intelligent man should be in some measure familiar with them and their life histories. When it is remembered that the bulk of invertebrates live in the water, it will be seen that for their proper exhibition and study we need scientifically equipped aquaria. Wherever these have been established it can hardly be said that the lower animals have been neglected; but it has often happened even in these institutions that marine vertebrates, fishes and seals, have been permitted to occupy more space than was necessary.

There have been several respectable attempts in this country to maintain aquaria well stocked for popular exhibition with attractive marine animals; but although they prospered for a time, financial reverses finally overtook them, in spite of the effort to capture popularity with all sorts of sensational adjuncts and side shows. There is no more occasion for discouragement in the history of these enterprises than if an art museum or a natural history society should fail, as it most assuredly would, if it undertook to provide amusement mingled with instruction for the public, and expected to pay interest on its outlays and its running expenses with money taken at the doors. Such establishments should have high standards of excellence to maintain, and these cannot be lowered to the level of a show without loss of character. If, like an art museum, for instance, they have invested funds and receive assistance in voluntary labor from those interested in their work, they can count upon constituencies which will insure success; without such aid they would, we think, be generally regarded as somewhat hazardous investments. In reckoning, too, upon the real success of such an enterprise as an aquarium, its situation is an important consideration. The number of those who would visit it is not wholly determinable, as has been generally supposed, by the number who pass its entrance. The minds of persons on a populous street, for example, are not in harmony with such entertainments; these passers-by are too intent on business or absorbed with other cares to pause at a place of this kind after the novelty of its first announcements has disappeared. Such institutions are most favorably situated where there are other attractions, like the public parks, which bring a current of people past their gates, whose main object for the time being is recreation in the open air, a leisurely occupation predisposing them to observe what is curious in nature if it be placed in their way.

It is a common mistake, derived from the time when all collections were merely aggregates of natural curiosities, to think and talk about public museums and gardens as if their principal function were to amuse people rather than instruct them. The progress of science within the past few years has, however, made possible a kind of public exhibition which, while not losing its capacity to entertain the people, may be also in the highest degree instructive ; it may readily be made to demonstrate some of those laws of general importance which have long been the common property of naturalists, but are not often mentioned, either in textbooks or other literature. The investigator, occupied with work on some particular problem or series of forms, seldom expresses his ideas with regard to such laws, and the public consequently hears little about them. They have been more or less used to govern the arrangement of collections in museums, and it is extremely desirable that the principle should be extended, and that zoological and aquarial gardens should adopt the results of modern research and illustrate them carefully. They deal with living things, and should endeavor to bring clearly before the eye and mind the dynamic agencies that have moulded the structures of organisms into what they are at the present stage of the world’s history.

The usual modes of arrangement show what may be called the statical relations of organisms to each other. All mammals of a collection are marshaled in line, and all the birds and examples of other classes of the animal kingdom are assembled in adjoining inclosures. The most important subjects taught under these conditions of association are the characteristics of the class or group to which the animals belong, the great range in modification of their structures and parts within any one group, and other interesting and instructive lessons of a similar fixed character. Their habits of life may also be shown, if the inclosures are large enough and attention is paid to this object, and in so far as this is done the garden deals with the dynamics of natural history. But, after all, the main aim of a systematic arrangement by groups is the exposition of the structural relations and classification of the organisms exhibited, and these are purely statical.

In museums, where only preservations of various kinds can be employed, such an aim is both commendable and appropriate, because lifeless things can be set up effectively, and can most appropriately be used in teaching such problems. With living things, however, this cannot be done with the same success ; gaps continually occur through death and changes of various kinds, and the difficulty of obtaining and keeping certain important types of form and structure always on hand is almost insuperable. In aquaria, these obstacles are increased by the fact that every tank usually contains, in addition to the peculiar animal to which it may be appropriated, a host of plants and other organisms, which give a heterogeneous character to the exhibit, and cause the plan continually to be modified or abandoned. Living things, again, are more attractive than preparations, because they are all the while acting and doing something in accordance with their strange structures, and thus often excite curiosity by the contrast which they afford with more familiar creatures. This feeling of curiosity is a lever which ought to be used to the utmost in any institution having an earnest purpose in education.

Fortunately, there is no lack of dynamical laws of universal importance which can be demonstrated in collections of living things. The distribution of organisms upon the earth is limited by the four grand regions in which they live, — the salt waters, the fresh waters, the dry land, and the air. The structure of natural groups accords sufficiently with these, and with the many habitats into which these regions may be divided, to make it perfectly feasible to adopt the law of distribution, and the correlations of structure and habit with that law, as the guiding principle of arrangement. If animals are indigenous to the salt waters, they breathe, as a rule, by means of organs like those so familiar to us as gills, or else possess some other form of breathing organ, divided into floating plumes or plates ; and they also have additional modifications which allow their bodies to be permeated by water. If they live in the fresh waters, they have similar organs for breathing; and there are among them many that can pass from salt water to fresh and back again without inconvenience. Others are confined exclusively to the region of fresh water, and salt water acts upon them like a strong poison, occasioning sudden death. Nevertheless, even these often possess certain characteristics which show that their ancestors came originally from the ocean. On the other hand, those that cannot pass from the sea to the fresh waters without similar disastrous effects, and most of those that can do so without injury, have originated in the salt waters. This region must therefore be considered the primitive home of the larger part of all water-breathers. If organisms live altogether on dry land, they are apt to possess baglike organs more or less similar to our lungs, which are suitable structures for breathing air. Their limbs and bodies also present definite modifications, as directly correlated to walking upon land as are the fins and paddles of fishes and whales to progression through the dense medium of waters. If they fly in the fourth region, the air, their wings, their curious airsacs, and often hollow bones assist in making their bodies lighter, and are plainly adaptations for active existence in this thinner medium. Many such structures are hidden within the body, but other characteristics are external, like the fins and outlines of the form in fishes, the legs and port of mammals, the wings and poise of the body in birds. It is evident, therefore, that collections of living animals, brought together and arranged to demonstrate such obvious correlations, would give intellectual value to all that could be shown with regard to their life histories.

A marine aquarium based upon these principles would include some things not usually admitted into such establishments. Besides the strictly marine vertebrates and invertebrates, there should also be provision for the exhibition of those birds that may be said to live habitually on the sea, and those that frequent the shores to feed upon marine animals or plants. Most of these would require exposure in the open air on the shores of suitable ponds, while some, like the guillemot and penguin, would be better shown in suitable aquaria. These birds do not swim in passing under water, but fly through that element. The motion of the guillemots’ wings and also the paddles of the penguins, as they dart about in the waters of a glass tank, could be used to teach a most valuable lesson with regard to the causes which have probably produced this wonderful suitability for action in a medium so different from air. The guillemot, with its highly developed wings, is able to fly in both media; while the penguin, whose wings are really paddles covered by feathers which are reduced to the semblance of scales, has become so changed that it cannot fly in the air, and is graceful and thoroughly at home only when in the water.

There are insects, also, which live habitually upon and in the sea. These have remarkable modifications which make them of equal interest with the true water-breathers, and should be exhibited when they can be obtained. The plants which show obvious adaptations in their forms and structures to the necessities of existence under water should be ranked as coequal in importance with animals, and should have as much space as might be necessary. They would doubtless find accommodations most naturally in the tanks devoted to the exhibition of the animals, but in some cases it might be found advantageous to give certain forms tanks by themselves.

A fresh-water exhibition, either under the same roof as the marine or on a separate foundation, could be organized upon the same principles. The attempt to plan a distinct establishment of this nature, which would be approximately equal to the marine division in interest and attractiveness, seems at first hopeless ; and indeed this would be the case if there were not an educational intention to work with, and educational principles at the basis of the whole design. A fresh-water aquarium should not, however, be limited to the strictly freshwater fauna, but should include within its field of work all inland waters as distinguished from the open seas. With this enlarged scope it would be able to illustrate what we have considered one of its most important objects, the derivation of its flora and fauna from the salt waters. Many of the animals exclusively confined to fresh water have been derived from the seas, and the transformation of structures made in the passage of their ancestors from that denser medium through the intermediate brackish waters to the lighter one of fresh water can be shown in a proper series of aquaria. Thus it is entirely practicable to repeat the famous experiments of Schmankewitsch, who several times reproduced in his aquaria the series of forms through which a marine shrimp became transformed into a distinct species in the evaporated and dense salt waters of salt-pans, and finally transformed the same shrimps into a genus very different from either of these two in purely fresh water. Other experimental work could be carried on in such establishments which would harmonize with the plan, greatly increase the efficiency of the exhibits, and supply opportunities for research not as yet offered by any institutions in this country.

The inland rivers and lakes contain, besides, some forms which most nearly among living organisms approximate the armored fishes of geologic seas, and also a multitude of other fishes endowed with extraordinary structures. There is one fish which lives a divided life, often swimming with half of the head and part of the back exposed. It needs, therefore, to be guarded from being made the prey of some submerged hunter while itself watching the air. This double function is provided for by a double modification, the upper half of the eyes being divided from the lower half, so that their owner can use them equally well both above and below the surface.

Reptiles like alligators could be kept in large floor tanks, under cover during the winter, and in summer they would find congenial surroundings in suitable ponds. Frogs, with their host of allies in the tritons, mud-puppies, and other amphibia, have many forms remarkable in their coloring and habits, and are useful in illustrating the modifications of structure which occur in water-breathing animals during their migration from life under water to a habitat on the land. The huge hippopotamus, if exhibited in the summer time in a deep pond, would excite not less interest than the whale, and is much easier to secure as well as much hardier, even breeding in captivity, under favorable conditions. There are also many mammals, like shrews and muskrats, and especially beavers, which last, in proper inclosures, would build their dams and curious habitations.

Many salt-water fishes come into fresh water to lay their eggs, and the young are reared in the comparative shelter of inland lakes and rivers ; artificial fishhatching is therefore carried on for the most part in fresh water, and this is a most instructive subject for illustration.

An insectary is an important department, and should consist of aquaria in which could be shown the life histories of insects, like the dragon flies, that pass through their earlier stages in the water. At the proper season, the ugly, masked, water-breathing larvæ of these could be seen climbing up the plants, or in shallow places near the surface, preparing to burst their dark-colored armor ; and at opportune moments one would be able to observe the casting off of the shells, and the slow emergence of the azure-winged dragon flies, one of the most rapid fliers among aerial animals.

The birds that frequent the shores of rivers and lakes, either habitually or for temporary breeding purposes, should be shown, and the fact that many of them were found in favorable situations on the seashore, and were represented in the marine aquarium, would add to their usefulness.

The fresh-water plants, or algæ, are not so favorable for exhibition in aquaria as their marine relatives, but they are always associated in the same tank with the animals; and the only change we would propose, from what is ordinarily done in such aquaria, would be to treat them as important parts of the exhibit, naming the species and describing the forms. The flowering plants, on the other hand, which grow in fresh water are not surpassed by any that adorn our gardens or conservatories. The pretty lilies of our own country, the superb floating flowers of the tropics, like the Victoria Regia, and others, not as large, but equally beautiful in color, lying upon the reflecting surface of a pool, are doubly interesting on account of their strange surroundings. A pond like this is in successful operation in the Zoölogical Garden of Chicago, and is one of the most attractive of its exhibits. The area required for such an establishment as we have outlined would not be so extensive as that essential for a zoölogical garden, but would have to be large enough to afford room for several ponds, of different depths and sizes, and the out-of-door exhibits would be more important than in the marine aquarium.

A zoölogical garden containing the terrestrial and aerial animals arranged according to this plan, as an educational exhibition, would present greater difficulties than any mentioned above. The idea would of course be a faunal arrangement, the arctic and the great areas of distribution of the temperate and tropic zones being mapped out, and the principal animals of each of these assembled in distinct parts of the garden. A proper representation of the flora of each great area or country in the shape of some characteristic trees and flowers should be maintained in conjunction with the animals, in order to furnish them appropriate surroundings, and give scientific and artistic completeness to these illustrations of the faunas. This mode of carrying out the plan is open to serious objections on the score of expense. Extensive grounds would be required, and the number of houses for the protection of animals and plants in the winter necessarily would be large. These, together with the construction of drains, the water supply, and the cost of attendance, would require a larger capital than one could reasonably expect to obtain unless the garden were supported by the national government.

Such difficulties can, however, be successfully met, as has been suggested by a scientific friend, by illustrating mainly the fauna of one selected area of distribution, or country, and restricting the selection of animals from localities outside of these limits. If, for example, the northern temperate zone of America were chosen, we could admit only those animals “ which in other faunas specially represent our indigenous animals. Thus, to instance one or two points, we would exhibit side by side with the Rocky Mountain goat the chamois, structurally allied, adapted for and dwelling in similar mountain regions, characteristic of the Old as our own is of the New World; beside the cougar, or American panther, we would display the jaguar of South America; beside the black, the brown bear ; while, to correspond with the opossum, we would seek a relative, not in the more nearly allied marsupials of South America, but in the distinctive home of marsupials, among the strange forms which occur in Australia. As it would not be necessary to seek this counterpart for each animal, but in many cases only one for an entire series, as with the mice, hares, foxes, and so on, it will he seen that the collection would not be much enlarged, while its increase would be strictly limited and its educational value greatly enhanced.” Within the zone of distribution or fauna which might be selected, it would be necessary, if such a plan were adopted, to give ample exercising space for each species, and make strenuous efforts to furnish them as natural surroundings as practicable, so that their peculiar habits might be shown.

The aerial animals, the birds, could be limited in the same way, and associated groups could be placed in inclosures of sufficient size containing trees and shrubberies. An insectary would form a more important department in this establishment than in the freshwater aquarium, and would be exceedingly instructive. Colonies of bees and ants, although so familiar, are really not at all commonly understood, and if their habits were explained would seem stranger to most visitors than the tiger or elephant. The transformations of many insects, like the butterflies for example, of which every one has heard in various ways, but with regard to which very few persons have definite ideas, could be easily shown, since insects breed readily in confinement.

A few fishes would be requisite to make a contrast between the strictly terrestrial and aerial animals and the inhabitants of the waters, but a sufficient number for this purpose would probably be kept in ponds on the ground, to serve as food for some of the animals and birds. In addition to these true water-breathers there should be a group of seals, for comparison with their nearest allies, the terrestrial carnivora ; and also a small number of aquaria devoted to the exposition of a few of those forms among invertebrates whose terrestrial air-breathing ancestors migrated into the waters and became more or less modified, like the seals, until their existing descendants are at home only in that element. These limited exhibits would not be expensive, nor would they require much space; and their function in bringing the full relations of the terrestrial and aerial animals before the eyes of the visitor is obvious.

A criticism often made upon public museums and gardens in all parts of the world is that they fail to give any rational explanation of the interesting and instructive laws which govern the relations of animals to their surroundings. A short paragraph in a printed guidebook, perhaps, names the country to which a group of interesting forms belongs, and adds a few words about their habits; but no notice is taken of the wonderful adaptations of their structures to the work they have to do, and the effective parts they perform in the great drama of existence. Museums and gardens cannot afford, it is said, to print works giving such facts properly. Although not disposed to believe this to be wholly impracticable, we may still grant it for the moment in order to suggest a simple remedy. For a book, which at best can never adequately be kept up to an equality with a living collection, and whose pages can never be ample enough to make all the replies that every visitor looks for in its necessarily brief descriptions, we would substitute an educated man. This officer could not only satisfy all reasonable curiosity, but at the same time would awaken interests and make impressions that would be of permanent benefit.

This is no idle suggestion, but one based upon observations made in a museum where educated young men, who had been previously taught how to explain the collections, were placed in this position. The increased interest such guides excited was evident at the beginning, and experience has left us confident that good results can more easily be obtained than one is apt to suppose. Take, for instance, an earthworm : it is a very familiar and unattractive object; nevertheless, its life history, properly handled, makes it teach one of the most remarkable lessons in natural history, and finally shows it to be a tiller of the soil, whose labor man himself could not afford to lose. No popular lectures are so effective as a well-ordered series of talks made with the objects before the hearers ; especially if, as in a garden, these should be living and acting in sentient demonstration of the lecturer’s words. We believe, also, that an office of this kind would more than repay the salary of an educated young man to act as guide in any large public garden, by reason of the great additional interest such careful and intelligent exposition would create.

The scientific reader need not be told that all we have written in this article is simply a suggestive sketch of lines of work for the benefit of public education, and not a finished plan of operations; but a word or two more as to whether it be worth doing seems to be needed. So far as the ordinary visitor is concerned, such gardens, while furnishing him with agreeable recreation, would hardly fail to turn his attention to the fact that natural history is a science full of thought, and with a mission in the world over and above his momentary amusement. The benefits to the schools would be of the most solid description. Natural history is beginning to be taught everywhere, and intelligent teachers often take their pupils to museums, even making excursions some distance by rail for that purpose. Whether persons regard this tendency as desirable or the reverse is not a question that one need consider. The fact cannot be safely denied that throughout the civilized world the study of natural history has been introduced into private and public schools. The benefit of this policy is shown by the constantly increasing demand for instruction of this kind, and the yearly increase in the number of pupils and teachers who visit museums. Gardens based upon such plans as the above would be very much more useful to them than those governed by the older modes of arrangement, especially if there were organic connection between them and the schools as integral parts of the educational system of the city in which they were situated. This connection could be acknowledged by definite privileges of admission to the collections free of expense on certain convenient days, together with other concessions, if necessary, to secure the fullest use of these privileges.

Books have occupied, and perhaps always will occupy, a very important place in education, but it must be remembered that all instruments with which humanity has done its work have suffered change, and have either been greatly modified or wholly replaced by others. Books are instruments for recording mental conceptions, and can, as a rule, convey only such ideas of the things they treat of as may be possessed by the author at the time of writing.

Possibly, having seen what he has described, he may have definite conceptions and write well; but the reader, on the other hand, has not had the same advantages, and the impressions made upon his mind are necessarily fainter, and these may be, owing to defects in the author’s mode of treatment or his own inability, very slight and transient. Books used in the schools have long been considered unsatisfactory by many of the best teachers. They recognize that printed pages cannot convey knowledge in sufficiently definite and impressive form unless used in connection with pictures, or models, or, preferably, the things themselves. In other words, the visual element in education is becoming more and more important every day, and in many of the finest European and American schools objective methods are extensively used. Teachers, however, are not specialists, and cannot keep their knowledge abreast of the always advancing lines of research, especially in natural history. They lose in this way many advantages, or, if energetic enough to seek them, do so at great expense of time and labor, and often at the sacrifice of their holidays and consequent injury to strength and health.

Public museums and gardens should therefore aim to supply, as has already been done in some European countries, loan and consulting collections for the use of teachers, and possibly for other persons who may have proper claims for such assistance. It does not require prophetic insight to predict that these institutions will some day he required to do for the public much the same service as that now performed by libraries, but their circulating medium for the diffusion of knowledge will be things themselves, and not books. Natural objects are nature’s books, the only ones that hold within themselves the infinite sources of knowledge, and never need reissue in improved editions. They can furnish food for study to all minds, however large their capacity, and the time is coming when the advance of human learning will create even a greater demand for them than there is now for what is written about them.

Alpheus Hyatt .