It was the practice of Laperouse to sow seeds at places visited by his ships, with the object of experimenting with useful European plants that might be cultivated in other parts of the world.  His own letters and journal do not show that he did so at Botany Bay; but we have other evidence that he did, and that the signs of cultivation had not vanished at least ten years later.  When George Bass was returning to Sydney in February, 1798, at the end of that wonderful cruise in a whaleboat which had led to the discovery of Westernport, he was becalmed off Botany Bay.  He was disposed to enter and remain there for the night, but his journal records that his people—­the six picked British sailors who were the companions of his enterprise—­“seemed inclined to push for home rather than go up to the Frenchman’s Garden.”  Therefore, the wind failing, they took to the oars and rowed to Port Jackson, reaching home at ten o’clock at night.  That is a very interesting allusion.  The Frenchman’s Garden must have been somewhere within the enclosed area where the Cable Station now stands, and it would be well if so pleasant a name, and one so full of historical suggestion, were still applied to that reserve.

It may be well to quote in full the passage in which Laperouse relates his experience of Botany Bay.  He was not able to write his journal up to the date of his departure before despatching it to Europe, but the final paragraphs in it sufficiently describe what occurred, and what he thought.  Very loose and foolish statements have occasionally been published as to his object in visiting the port.  In one of the geographical journals a few years ago the author saw it stated that there was “a race for a Continent” between the English and the French, in which the former won by less than a week!  Nonsense of that sort, even though it appears in sober publications, issued with a scientific purpose, can emanate only from those who have no real acquaintance with the subject.  There was no race, no struggle for priority, no thought of territorial acquisition on the part of the French.  The reader of this little book knows by this time that the visit to Botany Bay was not originally contemplated.  It was not in the programme.

What would have happened if Laperouse had safely returned home, and if the French Revolution had not destroyed Louis XVI and blown his exploration and colonisation schemes into thin air, is quite another question; but “ifs” are not history.  You can entirely reconstruct the history of the human race by using enough “ifs,” but with that sort of thing, which an ironist has termed “Iftory,” and is often more amusing than enlightening, more speculative than sound, we have at present nothing to do.  Here is the version of the visit given by Laperouse himself:—­