Botanic Gardens

Nature, in lier wise distribution of plants, adapts itself to the soil and climatic eonditions of each región, and between the tropic scènes, where lavish feasts of bright flowers, balsamic herbs, gorgeous trees and delicate palms are spread in wanton confusión, and the snow bound Arctic belt, with its few hardy creepers and lichens, all grades and varieties of vegetable life welcome the curious eye of the er, says Lippincott's. In journeying north and soutli from the equator toward either pole, following i.ü imagination the proverbial "bee line," the discovery of nature's metnod of adaptation appeals to the mind, and as one species after another dwindles into insignificance and finally disappeai's entirely, to be replaced by more hardy orders, the mind is tempted to speculate upon the wisdom of an all-providing Creator. But the picture of this changing scène, this shifting kaleidoscope, this grand expansión of the idea that the flowers and fruits must adapt themselves anew to each recurring season, can be viewed only in the gination, or in the miniature. It is in this latter condition that a substantial knowledge of the question can best be obtained by 'the general public. Out of the mist of uncertainty of their mediaeval surroundings two botanie gardens emerge.swelling in value and size as the years roll by, and arrogating to themselves all the credit and virtues of the others. The Jardin des Plantes of Paris and the Kew gardens of London had their early beginnings in the seventeenth century, and while the gardens of Padua, of Pisa, and of Bologna were dying of neglect and inattention, the attractions of the two new ones blosomed and matured lnto the ripe fruit of today. Both of these gardens flourished mighuiy because royalty smiled upon them, anil later because the era of science and natural history had dawned. Their beginnings were similar to those of the hanging gardens of Babyion; the whim of a ruler established them.