The world war, which illuminated many dark corners, revealed the gardening instinct in all its original vigor, and mobilized it for the service of the country without the formality of the selective draft. We raised 4,800,000 soldiers and trained them for battle with marvelous celerity; but, at the same time, an army of 5,250,000 war gardeners grasped rake and hoe and proceeded to do their part without the inspiration of martial music, without hope of glory or material reward. It was a remarkable demonstration, showing that our people have not only the instinct but the aptitude for this adventure. It was a great light thrown upon the character, the capacity, the aspirations of the American people. It is one of the war lessons which has not been appreciated at anything like its true value.

The National War Garden Commission was not, as most people suppose, a Government activity, though it had its headquarters in Washington, and enjoyed the moral support of Federal authority. It was the voluntary undertaking of a number of patriotic citizens, headed by Charles Lathrop Pack, of Lakewood, N. J., President of the American Forestry Association. For more than two years he turned over bodily the activities of that organization to the war-garden work, at a cost of about $1,000,000 a year, raised by himself and associates, and consecrated to the work of popular education. The task undertaken was so extraordinary that most men would have regarded it as impossible of accomplishment.

The problem was to bring about a vast increase in the country's food supply: to do it very quickly, and

to do it without taking from existing farming operations either an acre of ground or the labor of a single man, since both land and labor were already under the fullest pressure. Not only so, but the railroads were groaning under the heaviest demands and it was essential that the vast increase of food supply should be obtained without adding materially to the burden of the railroads. How could the thing be done? Only by inducing the people to utilize every piece of ground, without remitting any of their regular work, which was also in unusual demand.

The scheme was chimerical, of course. Any sensible person would have known it! But Mr. Pack and his friends did not know it. They believed that the great spirit evoked by the war could do impossible things. The event proved that they were right.

Millions of gardens-more than five millionssprung into almost immediate existence. These gardens blossomed not only in the workingman's back yard, but on the millionaire's front lawn. Italian gardens, which had been the pride of their owners, were beautified by straight rows of common vegetables and ministered yet more to pride. Public parks, which had been mere fields for popular recreation, were dedicated to a more sacred public purpose that of feeding the people and winning the war. The total product of this war-gardening scheme between May, 1917, and June, 1919, reached the impressive figure of $1,250,000,000. The plan served its immediate purpose; but its deeper significance has yet to enter the consciousness of our people.

First, it revealed the affinity of our people for the

soil. Men rushed for the shipyards to work for $10 a day. While they were inspired by the depredations of the German submarines, they also obtained substantial material reward for their own pockets. When

these same men got up an hour earlier to cultivate their gardens, and came home from the shipyard to labor with the hoe until dark, they were working for something higher than dollars, in response to a finer impulse than the desire for gain.

They were preserving their families and their country against the peril of possible famine. They were exerting their initiative and creative faculties, and they found that the process yielded a great sense of satisfaction. They were adventuring upon the lost field of individual independence, and while they did not go far in that direction, they yet went far enough to catch a fleeting glimpse of the promised land. They demonstrated their aptitude for the thing. And that was a comfort. If they had once known how, they discovered that they had not forgotten. If they had never known how, they discovered that they could learn. And that was a joy.

This brings us to another hopeful aspect of the matter: Of the 5,250,000 families who enlisted as war gardeners, something like 3,000,000 really did not know how to do it, or at least how to do it the best way. To my mind, this is one of the most valuable lessons of the experience—the teachability of our people; the willingness to learn; their eagerness to respond to disinterested leadership. For, be it known, not less than 3,000,000 of these families entered into direct communication with the National War Garden Commission

President of American Forestry Association, whose remarkable success as Chairman of the National War Garden Commission (1918-19) revealed the latent love of the American masses for the soil