even with comparatively poor means; but a well-equipped laboratory, and extensive collections and libraries, are of no avail to him who has not the time to use them. The best work ought to be expected of professional botanists—that is, those attached to the schools and colleges as professors and instructors, rather than from private individuals giving some of their time to botany, because the professors are supposed to be selected for their special knowledge of and interest in botany, and to have better means for work than any, except wealthy private individuals. But if the professors do not accomplish as much as is expected in the way of investigation, their principal excuse—and it is a good one—is that they have no time. But the day is as long in America as it is in Germany, it will be said, and the American professor ought to find time for original work. Unfortunately, most if not all his time is spent in class-work; and his laboratory, his books, his collections, are largely used in elementary instruction of beginners in botany. For this abuse of time and material the public are in part to blame, but, to a considerable extent, the botanists themselves are responsible for the present state of things. In the good old days, the few botanical professors in this country were looked upon as an amiable, harmless set of men who were allowed to give a few lectures every year, and beyond that they were left severely alone. They had an amount of leisure for undisturbed work unknown to the modern professor, and there can be no doubt that their work in investigating our flora did far more for botany in this country than any amount of class-work which they might have done.
But now it is all changed. From being neglected, botany has become a popular study; and it is not enough that a professor should give a course of lectures, but he must have laboratory classes and be prepared to demonstrate the very latest European experiments. If the public now expect far more in the way of personal instruction from botanical professors than they used to, it is largely owing to the fact that botanists themselves have for years been urging the importance of botany as a help in education, and, until recently, have neglected to lay sufficient stress on the value of original work. The educational value of botany is pretty well recognized by the public, and, judging by the last few years, they are rather liberal in providing the means for class-instruction. When it comes to providing the means of research, the question is different; and the trouble is not so much that the public do not really appreciate a good piece of botanical work when their attention is called to it, as that they, as yet, have not the least idea of the amount of time and money required to prosecute research successfully. The unscientific public have an idea that research is a thing of inspiration, or perhaps a sort of recreation to be indulged in after class-work is over, and no conception of the months, and even years, of drudgery required before anything of value is really in print. Not infrequently they regard the ordinary student in a
