The death of the younger Keith Johnson, son of the great geographical map and book author, is much regretted. He was leading the Geographical Society's Expedition in Africa, and died of dysentery, 130 miles inland. He came of a famous house, and had ■ clone good work in South America. His death is a real loss to scientific geography.

All who have traveled much lately, must have remarked the improvements around stations and the gardens distributed with taste at the watering places, with the gradual introduction of flowers. Examples are found in many places, especially on the Pennsylvania Railroad, and the great garden of Mr. Hoey at Long Branch. All these are evidences of increasing civilization. In short, one scarcely moves in any direction without remarking increased comfort on the road or at the hotel. Neat and easy chairs meet a great want of the aged and the invalid; increased ventilation of cars: more freedom from dust; and, let us hope, more civility marks the new era. There is something yet to learn, and we may hope that if the attractions of travel unsettle the lover of a country home, with its wealth of flowers and fruits, we may meet abroad with what gives a charm to life. What, for instance, more charming than to alight at a station and find it adorned with magnolias, or the Hydrangea paniculata, the former early bloomers and the latter coming in August and lasting till frost, with its large panicles, white at first and turning to a delicate red as the days go on.

Depend upon it, those railroads that pay a little and not costly attention to these minor details, will find their exchequers tell a good story. This attention to the feelings of aesthetic culture not only gives pleasure to the traveler, but prepares him on his return to imitate and try to excel. Is there anything that costs so little as flowers and trees, that makes life so much of a pleasure?

A Year in a Lancashire Garden, by Henry A. Bright, is a gem from the press of Macmillan. It is English, but many of its remarks apply to all garden-loving people. Nowhere is the art of gardening brought to such great perfection as by the English, who are strong in horticulture and strong in poetry; the poet's song adds perfume to the violet and a beauty to the rose. This Mr. Bright thinks is neglected by gardeners in these days of "bedding" stuff, which he hopes may disappear before any poet undertakes to celebrate it in song. He says, "I am heartily weary of the monotony of modern gardens, with their endless pelargoniums, calceolarias and verbenas. Some few such beds I cannot dispense with, but I am always glad when I can reclaim a bed for permanent use".