at least, and it will be strange, indeed, if instruction, in some shape or other, does not follow. But the beautiful place has its own proper inhabitants. Of the number and variety of these inhabitants, there really seems no end. A visitor who, after spending some hours here, sauntering hither and thither, just as curiosity or impulse guided, should discover a good half of the collection, would deserve every praise for his industry and tact. Still more surprising, rightly considered, than even the number and variety of the families that compose this strangest of villages, are the differences as to the quarters of the globe whence they have respectively come. Listen but to the characteristic sounds that rise from time to time: the low growl of the bears from the eternal snows of the polar regions; the hoarse screams and piercing cries of the tropical birds, whose plumage speaks them the children of the sun; the magnificent roar of the lion: in short, the whole world has been ransacked to people these few acres of soil, where the magic of skill and enterprise has overcome all difficulties-reconciled conflicting seasons, and tempers, and habits-formed, from the most heterogeneous of materials, one of the most thriving, and orderly of communities.

A broad terrace walk extends from the little rustic lodges at the entrance, in a straight line onwards, bordered by flowers, shrubs, and trees on each side, and which is now continued at the same level for some distance, over the lower ground, by a handsome viaduct, which covers a long range of roomy cages beneath, and forms the most striking feature of the gardens. Here the carnivorous animals, — the lions, tigers, leopards, &c., are located; and it is found that by having a large space for exercise and for the admission of fresh air, set apart for each animal, with a small sleeping place behind, artificial warmth may be dispensed with, to the advantage of the animals' health. Branching to the right of the terrace-walk, immediately on our entering, we find a winding path among lofty bushes and trees, presently opening on our left, and presenting a fine view over the park, in the foreground of which are grazing various novel-looking inhabitants for an English pasture-ground; and continuing along the same path, on our right, appears the New Aviary, an actual bird palace, with an architectural façade. Here we have the bird cottages at the back, with doors and windows, then a promenade under glass, outside the cottages, and beyond that again, the open garden of the aviary, with its trees and fish-ponds. Returning to the terrace we find, at the point of junction of the terrace walk and the carnivora terrace on the right, in a deep square pit, those amusing climbers, the cinnamon and brown bears. Their prenomen is derived from their handsome brown coats, in which, as well as in locality and in greater ferocity in their natural state, they differ from the American black bears, of which species they are considered to be a variety: specimens of the latter are also to be found in the gardens.

Descending by a circuitous path on the left of the terrace, commanding a charming little bit of scenery, with a lawn and pond in the foreground at the bottom, we find a large octagonal cage, occupied by the king vulture. In summer the macaws are also to be found about this spot, most splendid in their red and yellow-and red and blue plumage; and who, by their most un-bird-like tumult, seem desirous to show that there is some truth in the philosopher's idea of a kind of compensating principle in nature. The path, now running between the macaws' cage and the llama-house opposite, conducts us to the lawn, rich with purple beech, and with its sparkling little piece of water, dotted over with aquatic birds-among which black swans and eider ducks are conspicuous-and with little raised nests or boxes. In the centre a fountain

"Shakes its loosening silver in the sun."

A beautiful and very familiar species of Coreopsis geese, from New Holland, deservedly attract much attention. They are numerous, and have been all bred from a single pair. These might be naturalised in our farm-yards, and their flesh is said, by some travellers, to be more delicate than that of the English bird. A wonderfully interesting collection of birds occupies the cages on the right of this piece of water: crowned cranes; blue crowned pigeons; enormous cassowaries, with beaks like helmets, which extend backwards right over their heads; storks, standing on one leg, each on its own granite pedestal, in solitary and most sculpturesque repose and dignity, &c. The pelicans have a rock home or grotto of their own, with courtyard and pond in front, entirely covered by a magnificent tree, forming a perfectly horizontal canopy. Here they seem to grow fatter and fatter every day; already their cream-coloured bodies are so puffed up that the long beaks cannot but repose upon the breast beneath. Whistling ducks, sheldrakes, and garganey teal, are here also to be found. Close by are the ostriches and emus. These last are among the wonders of the animal creation-creatures with wings that cannot fly, birds with the habits and strength of limb of quadrupeds.

We turn to the Carnivora Terrace, where we pass in succession the most powerful and ferocious of the wild beasts of our globe. The first cage contains pumas or panthers, often called lions. Next are black leopards-then more pumas-black Isabella bears succeed; then the striped and spotted

bears and spotted leopards. hyænas from Africa.

Turning the corner at the end of the terrace, we find on the opposite side the more magnificent of the carnivora. First comes the royal Bengal tiger; than which it is impossible to imagine a living organism combining at once more beauty, and strength, and ferocity. In striking contrast are the three lions in the next cage, all reposing in the most supreme dignity of form and character. The chetah, or hunting leopard, in another cage, must arrest every one's attention by the contrast between its long and high body, and absurdly small head. Tigresses, lions and lionesses together, jaguars, follow in due succession.

At some distance beyond the termination of the viaduct, and in the same line, a piece of water attracts attention, even more by its own beauty than by the variety of its aquatic inhabitants. Small but luxuriantly-wooded islands are scattered about the centre, the banks are thickly fringed with reeds, and bordered by elegantiyflowering shrubs, suitable to the kind of scenery indicated; and altogether it is impossible to imagine a much happier existence than these waddling, and swimming, and diving rogues here enjoy-these Brent, and Canadian, and Chinese, and Egyptian, and laughing geese-these tufted, and crossbred pintail, and penguin ducks-these teal, and shovellers, and pochards. In his way, too, the polar bear, in the neighbourhood of the pond, is luxuriantly lodged; he has got his comfortable den, and his pool of water, where he may swim about, and fancy he is once more breasting the seas of the polar regions, swimming his thirty or forty miles at a time, as they have been seen in Barrow's Straits. The monkey-poles, close by, are unoccupied, exccpt in a few summer months. The condor's cage is near. That great pile of rock-work, almost big enough for a human habitation, covered with foliage, and surrounded by its own little but deep lake of water, is the otter's home. This is one of the great centres of attraction in the gardens at the animal's dinner-time, when live fish are thrown into the water, which he catches with astonishing skill and rapidity.

We have now reached a kind of central spot of the portion of the gardens, that lies on this side of the park-road, and a charming little place it is, with walks branching off in different directions, each between its own high, green and blooming banks,

with lawns, and beds of flowers in the centre, a pretty-looking and elegantly-furnished building for refreshment on one side, the monkey-house on another, the otter and other cages, just mentioned, on a third. The monkey-house has a wired enclosure, extending all along one side, for their out-door enjoyments in the summer. We must step into the house, to pay our respects to these most amusing of organized beings. A school broke up for the holidays seems but a faint imitation of their gambols. Their power of locomotion is familiar to every one; but really the amazing distance to which some of these monkeys can throw themselves (for that word expresses best the character of many of their movements), scarcely appears less wonderful for the fiftieth than for the first time. Among the other striking features of the monkey-house is the sonorous bark of one of the baboons, the human-like character of that cluster of faces of the bonnet monkeys, and the exceeding grace and prettiness of the diminutive marmozets. As we pass on in our walk, we reach the ponds for the American teal, ducks, &c. ; the building containing the family of birds in which the destructive power has been developed to its highest extent, the vultures and eagles,—the parrot-house, containing the finest living collection in the world of the most beautiful of all birds, macaws, cockatoos, parrakeets; the aviary for small birds, a handsome-looking semicircular piece of architecture, where, among weaverbirds, and paradise grackles, and rice-birds, and mocking-birds, a brilliant scarlet ibis especially attracts the eye. We now cross the bridge over the mouth of the tunnel, and then pass on to the owls' cages, and thence to the dove cote. In this part we find the bison,—a formidable-looking animal seen thus solitary and in captivity, but which must be indeed terrible when beheld almost covering, with their immense numbers, the savannahs of the remoter districts of North America; or, as when Lewis and Clarke watched them, crossing a river in such multitudes, that, although the river was a mile broad, the herd stretched, as thick as they could swim together, from side to side. Here there is another pond for geese, where the wild swans should not be passed without notice.

Having passed through the tunnel, by which the grounds on the opposite sides of the park-road are connected, we reach the secluded-looking spot, completely embosomed in lofty trees, and with steep banks sloping down towards the waters of the Regent's Canal, where we find the Museum, rich in materials illustrative of the general objects of the society; and the new Reptile House, which forms one of the most attractive features of the garden. Here are the sand lizards of Egypt, burrowing deep into the gravel of their cage. Here, too, is the Indian cobra, with the remarkable expanding membrane which rises on each side of the head and neck when the animal is irritated. In another cage we have Cleopatra's asp, which when disturbed from the sand moves sidelong in a most remarkable manner, all the folds of the body advancing at the same time on the same level. Pythons, boa constrictors, puff-adders, and rattlesnakes, help to tenant this house. The rattlesnake offers a peculiarly interesting exhibition. You can see and hear the whole mystery relating to the rattle; this is at the end of the body or tail, and is formed of a few scales of a horny character, connected together by a membrane. When you have in any way excited the snake's indignation, you will see that rattle quivering with an almost inconceivable speed, and hear its loud note of indignation for some five minutes probably before the injured reptile can forget its wrongs, and sink back into its quiet sand at home.

We are now approaching the extremity of the gardens, where, completely embosomed in the green wood, are various buildings scattered about, as that for the peccary sties, where is the collared peccary from South America, really a beautiful

little pig, with slender, delicate legs and feet, intelligent aspect, and particularly clean appearance. Here also are the Elephant House and the houses of the superintendent and head keeper; the former having one of its rooms devoted to the reception of a variety of small tender quadrupeds, as the flying opossum, the brown coati-mundi, the golden agouti, porcupine, Indian tiger-cat, jerboas, &c., &c. And, lastly, a remarkably-lofty building appears before us, with an enclosed yard on the left, where the trees, fenced to a most unusual height, and with a projecting guard at the top of each fence, seems to imply we have got among some creatures from the scene of Swift's geographical discoveries - that mysterious land of Brobdignagg, which not all British skill, and capital, and enterprise, have yet been able to find the way to. And when we do get within the building, and perceive it is the giraffe-house and park that we have been gazing on, it is difficult to resist the impression, that these most beautiful and delicate, but, to the very eyes that behold them, almost incredibly tall creatures, cannot belong to any part of our planet with which we have been hitherto familiar. There are now several here; males and females, some born in the gardens, and enjoying excellent health. There are some kangaroos from Australia in the same house.

But the great attraction of 1850 has been the hippopotamus. The town has crowded to see that rarity of Africa, which had not been exhibited in Europe for sixteen centuries. This huge prize hog with a broad muzzle disappointed public curiosity in some degree. He was asleep when some of the eager visitors wanted to see him bathe; and groping in his bath when others were anxious to observe him at play with his keeper. The wonder is becoming stale. If he grows into a mighty hippopotamus, such as the Romans gazed upon, he will be again popular; but perhaps he will have instinctive pinings for the reeds of the Nile, and die of porridge and a washing-tub.

KEW GARDENS.

Since Kew first came into possession of the Royal family, about 1730, when the Prince of Wales (the father of George III.), took a lease of the property from the Capel family, there has been flowing into these gardens an almost uninterrupted stream of floral and botanical wealth from all parts of the world. The Prince commenced by laying out the pleasure grounds (which adjoin the Botanic Gardens), but died before their completion. His Princess then continued the works on a still more extensive scale; Sir W. Chambers was called in as architect, and the exotic collection, which was to become the glory of Kew, was commenced. During the reign of George III., Kew became the favourite royal residence, and statesmen were called into the royal councils to devise how Kew should be made more and more rich. The Earl of Bute, for instance, paid particular attention to the gardens. Some of the more eminent subjects of the crown aided in the same interesting work; the Duke of Argyle, the "tree-monger" as Horace Walpole calls him, contributed many of the finest foreign trees. But on the whole, none took more active and successful parts in the prosecution of these labours than Sir Joseph Banks, the President of the Royal Society, and his friend Mr. Aiton, the keeper, (a pupil of Philip Miller,) and who for fifty years kept Kew before the world as one of the first European gardens. Of course during a century filled with so much of political changes as this last has been, and resulting in such an immense increase of new territories to England, opportunities have continually occured of enriching Kew; and they have for the most part, we believe, been taken full advantage of. The chief expeditions of discovery have been similarly laid

under contribution. The voyages round the world of Captain Cook (accompanied by Sir Joseph Banks), Captain Flinders, and Mr. R. Brown; of Mr. Allan Cunningham to Australia; of other men to Brazil and the Cape of Good Hope, rendered Kew unrivalled in its examples of the botany of the southern hemisphere. During the last two reigns a pause, or even a retrogression, occurred; but of late great improvements have been made, and it is not too much to say that at present the gardens are in a state worthy of the country they belong to, and of the extraordinary aids and appliances that they have possessed, and still possess, for their own increase and conservation. Much of this change is owing to Dr. Lindley, who, in 1840, reported to the House of Commons on the state of the gardens. The investigation that then took place resulted in Kew being placed under the management of the Commissioners of Woods and Forests, and becoming-instead of a private royal garden-a public national one. And the spirit of improvement thus commenced, has been fully maintained under the present director, Sir W. Hooker. How much we, the public, owe to this gentleman may be illustrated by a passage from an interesting paper written by Dr. Lindley, in 1847, in reference to Kew as it was, and as it is. "Look," he said, "at the state of things in former days. You rang at a bell by the side of a wooden gate, which of itself was perfectly emblematic of the secrecy, the unnatural privacy, of the working principle within. You were let in as if by stealth, as if the gate-keepers were ashamed to see you come, or you yourself were ashamed to be seen there. And when you were there, you were dodged by an official as if you were likely to carry off the St. Helena willow-tree in your button-hole, or one of the smaller hot-houses in your waistcoat-pockets. You entered unwelcome, you rambled about suspected, and you were let out with manifest gladness at your departure.

"How gratifying is the contrast now! You go in by one of the most beautiful entrances that have been erected in modern times, whether we regard the effect of the whole design, or the taste shown in the design of each particular gate. There is no unlocking of a dark door-you walk in freely. Turn to the left, you wander amid the more secluded scenery of the old gardens, until you reach the hot-houses and the adjacent beds. Or walk straight forward along the bold, broad promenade immediately after you enter, visit the conservatory on your right, and at the end of this promenade turn to the left, and ramble along the far finer promenade, adorned on either side by flower-beds, lawns, and shrubberies, and terminated by the new conservatory (or palm-house),... its terrace and sheet of water, all bounded by the views in the pleasure grounds beyond. It is scarcely conceivable that in so short a time the change from the old close, cribbed, cramped, suspicious, dark system could have been so complete. And yet there is the work done, and on the whole, so far, admirably done. The student is free to enjoy access to all these daily increasing stores, and every person is free to enjoy the pleasurable objects presented to his view."

ง

It will be evidently useless for us to attempt to interest the reader in any lengthened description of each particular house in Kew Gardens, or to present him with anything approaching to a catalogue of the chief families of plants contained in them. All that can be done in this way has been done in the best manner by the little pamphlet issued by Sir W. Hooker, and which is sold at the gardens for sixpence. This is beyond comparison the most perfect little thing of the kind we ever met with, and should be purchased by every visitor to the gardens. We shall confine ourselves to what may be termed the characteristic features of each of the houses that possesses any character. Thus, to commence with the Conservatory (which was removed hither from Buckingham Palace): you pass its threshold, and England is left behind you for Australia, whose chief plants and trees surround you on all sides. And eminently remarkable