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h... -.... , . I flotilla]. I EVENING. p. yd: wHitched was the hour, the god of dayâ€"â€" With many a quiv’riug glorious ray, And gorgeous flash of crimson light, That lit with fire each stream and height, And tipt with gold the greenwood gay, Transform’d as by a magic swayâ€" Upou-his throne, far in the west. Sank slow majestic to his rest; And dim as grew his sweeping train. A fading beam again, again, Fell quiv’ring, trembling. then away, As if the haughty brilliant day Would re-assert his might, And from her throne with angry ray Disperse the hazy twilight gray, And quench sweet Luna’s light. I said the hour was hush’d and still; «But from the distant iiiurin’ring rill, And from Twoed’s rich and gushing flow, And from the green leaves rustle low, And feathered warblers, as they sank Upon the fragrant heathy bank, ’A strain of liquid music fell, Ringing and echoing down the dell; SO soft. so dreamy. rich and rare, ' It floated through the twilight air Like notes of Fairy quire. No prelude sweeter than this strain "Ever Welcom’d night with starry train, Or fell from minstrel’s lyre. O lovely in that pearly light Romantic Neidpath look’d that night, So swertâ€"methought it might allure The midnight stay of angel pure. Oh! here for holy cloister’d cell. I could bid entire world farewell; Andv’mid its soft and peaceful shade Might ev’ry strife and grief evade. Bewitching was the lovely scene-â€" So fresh, so silv’ry and sereneâ€"- That burst upon my sight, The ancient hills like gtiurdiaus hoar A pan resplendent beauty wore, And silence from each heathy crown Seem’d like a spirit looking down And many a pear! bright. Glunc’d merry from the gowan’d lea. And hung from ev’ry flow’r and tree Like lamps o’er elfin how r ; And fairy creatures seemed to sport, > And gay and merry, to hold court In that delicious hour. . _____.-‘ THE AMBASSADOR. CHAPTER I. Concluded from. our last She started, and replied, half seriously, ‘.Are you anxious that I should also give you your filial audi- ence l’ ‘ You cannot now, you have all" thorised me to remain, and I speak ino longer of the prince.’ ‘ But you speak of another.’ ~ ‘I only reply to your thought.’ i The princess blushed, and luckily, the Duchess of Holstein addressed her at that moment. - “‘I-bope, my niece, that you will make some'clmice. What reason can you give for such obstitiacy, when all your subjects are anxious thatyou should marrv l’ ' ‘ And pray, what imports it to my subjects ?’ " It. imports mush. Never has a reigning princess of our family arri- ved atyour age unmarried. Itocca- sions uneasiness as to the future, and encourages ambitious neighbors. iWho will defend your own rights and your people’s, if you do not choose a husband to watch over both ?’ ‘ Well, by and bye l’ » ‘ No, new, to' day, you ought to choose; and since you have dismiss- ed the alribassadors of Homburg and Cronstadt, you should choose gore your own court. unless you ish more ambassadors to come.’ -‘ Let your highuess beware l’ said Cerigny ; ‘ the baron and the count :Oiliy remuin.’ . ‘ Ah l’ whispered the princess, im- patiently, ‘ you will make me choos one of them.’ * ’ ‘I do not think so.’ ‘ Really !’ said the Princess. ironi- cally ; then turning to her aunt, ‘ well, I yield to your reasons, and ask only three days. In three days, before my whole court, I will choose a hosband.’ ‘ During these three days, Baron Muller and Count 'Rcinbci'g exhibiâ€" ted smiling faces; still a shade of anxiety was visible in their move merits. The Princess observed Cer- igny narrowly. He was perfectly calm, and appeared nowise anxious. The princess felt a kind ofvexatious, and said, ‘ Pshaw! it is not he; and his friend’s passion, orthe interest which he pretends to feel for him, are ,not. very powerful, for he is not at all concerned to see me ready to choose a hquand.’ , The fate! day arrived, and the Princess Helen’s court was ilSSClhv bled in the grand reception-room. Cerigny, the boron, and the count h'crestanding near the chair which \‘tilc princess was to occupy, when .Ishe entered with the Duchess of Holstein, Marguerite dc Vchel, and Catherine dc Iiindolling. the two ladies _of honour whom she most loved, and who scarcely ever quilted her. She approached, seated her-- Self, saluted Ccrigny coldly, smiled upon the Count licimbcrg, then meeting the gaze of Baron hlluller, her brow contracted, and she said, fSir Baron, a poor woman, from whom you have taken her home and M l AURORA _auo iuouhoNn V 'VVWN 'x/V'VWx ALEX. 5 01' T, Proprietor. s W. MWVVWV v’vv inLL _Anvocirn vaN>v‘ “ Let Sound Reason 7.0627971 more with us than .Popular Opinion.” AND ADV ERTISER. \x TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. Vol. m. No. as. W her property, for a miserable tax which she could not pay Gott Gclt' tcr, has just how come to beg my assistoncc.’ ‘Mndame,’ stammercd the baron, ‘you are aware, that if we paid attention to all these poor wretch- cs ' ‘ When these wretches are desti. tote mothers, Sir Baron, whose chil dren are dying of hunger, we should listen to them; and we ’ll‘e indigâ€" innit at seeing them pitilcssly driven from their last refugc.’ ‘If your nighncss is interested in this woman, her cottage and land shall be restored to her.’ ‘ You will do well, str. But you have sought fo'r our hand, and you. must conccivc that after such a testiâ€" mony of inscrisibilily ’ ‘ Ah l madame, it is my overseer who has done this, and you will not punish me for‘â€"â€"oâ€"’ ‘Sir Baron, before you think of gov‘ci‘ning my subjects, learn to make them happy.’ ‘Mndamc !’ ‘ No more, sir! I wish no un~ happiness about me. But alone, I caiizot sec and learn everything; the husband whom I choose,’ and her eyes turned slowly towards the Countltcimbcrg, ‘ must did me in the work of benevolence and solicitude which lhavc, for a" long,r time, been maturing.’ ‘A position, madame, to be cnvied,’ sliid the count, warmly, " will be that of the man whom ~you Sllilll choose to associate with you in the work of rendering those around you happy.’ ' The princess smiled, and perhaps was about to say that which would have carried joy to the counts heart, ' when tlt] officer of the palace cuter- ed and handed to the princess a scul- cd letter. She opened it, read it over hastily, and turned slightly pale. She arose, and Silltl with emotion, ‘ Ladies, I promised to make an im- iort’arit decision today; but this let- ter which I have just received, and to whichI must reply immediately, obliges me to postpone. the day upon which I _Slldll declare my choice." She saluted them with her hand and left the apartment, to the great sur~ prise of her whole court. W'hcn ,blc to be. for ever doubting. ,rous to allow one’s-self to be deceiâ€" KECMREUNE} .l’i-Efiiluil, Ei‘ififiii’lAY, .EEJEAY ESSE. M They descended into the park, until walked for some time in silence. Then the princess stopped at a seat,‘ upon which she sat down to rest. ‘My dear Catlicrinc,’ said shc' softly, concealing her emotion be- neath an apparent checrfulness, ‘of whom were you speakingjust new '2’ ‘ Of M. dc Ccriguy, madame; and I was surprised that he still re- mained at the palace, after your reâ€" fusal of his master.’ ‘Is it necessary, therefore, to dis miss him instantly?’ ‘ \l'hy. you have dismissed so many others.’ ‘ They were tiresome fools.’ ‘ That is true, 'said the young,r girl laughing" whilst M. de Ccrigny is the most accomplished of gentle- i'ricn.’ ‘ You think so’!’ asked the princess, With an indifferent air. ‘Ali, madame! he is so gay, so well educated! And then he has such a noble heart, so full ofcnthn- siasm! He is one ofthose men who, Under a frivolous dcmcnnour', coon, coal a soul of fire, capable of perfect dcvotion.’ ' Good Heaven! no more so than niziuy othcrs !’ ‘ All ! i would answer for it with my life; he is loyalty and frankness itself. ‘Reuily, you rehearse his praises with considerable warmth.’ ‘ Because, you have said yourself, that, at court, there are so many dc- ccitful masks, that when we meet with a true face, with eyes rhich cXprcss the feelings of the heart. it. fills one with real pleasure. It is so sad to be for ever mistrusting.’ The prinCess no longer listened. She had seen the figure of a Woman glide towards the pavilion. She could not mistakeâ€"4t was Margue- rite. Immediately after, the count joined the fair promcnadci'. Cathe- riiic had seen nothing. ‘ You are right, my poor child,’ said the princess, rising; ‘it is terri- Yet, believe me, it is still more dange- l vcd by apparent All men are either faultless or ccitfttl.’ ‘ Oh l not he, madame !’ said the young girl, quickly. good qualities. dcâ€" she was alone, . pale and agi- tated. shoreâ€"read the letter which her pretty little fingers had Cl‘un‘rpl- ed. The Contents were as follows: ‘ MADAME, A devoted servant of your highncss believes it his duty to ‘Iic? Who!’-â€"M de Corigny.’ ‘And how do you know l’ ‘Becausc l have. proof that he would never say to a woman that he loved her, if his heart was not enlighten you upon the sincerity of those who surround you. The Count Reimbcrg lovcs’and is beloved by’ one ol'your looies of honour, which does not prevent him from aspiring to your hand; contenting himself with receiving from you an elevated rank and immense riches, while he seeks from another, love and huppi-; ncss.’ The princess stopped fora moment ' nsif to breathe freely, then couth nued : ‘ Pardon me, madame, for thus wciunding both your heart and your womanly pride, but to inform you of this, is my duty. If you doubt it, observe Marguerite dc Vchcl. She wears only a water lily at her girdle; it is the sign that she will expect the count this evening at the northern pavilion.’ The princess remained silent for: a moment, then tears burst from her, beautiful eyes. ‘ Nothing but tron-3 son around mc !’ said she. men inspire love, but the princess, who only aWukens an‘ibition and cu-l pidityl The Count! Marguerite, a girl whom I loved! Ah I it is imâ€" possible; out I must see for myself. Poor princess, you must descend to the part of a spy, to assure yourself that you are deceived, and that you can never be beloved 1’ She went into the park, where theladies and lords were assembled. When she reached the circle of her ladies of honour, her quick eyes fell upon Mar- guerite. The water lily was bloom-j ing at her girdle. ‘ How the beautiful princess suffer» ed! wounded in her friendship, in; her heart, in her pride ! She conv- t:iined herself, however, and appea- rod calm and smiling throughout the day. When evening came, she dis- missed her woman at an early hour l'tiiillllll')g only Catherine Kindeliing. Then, when all was thIct in the pus lucc, she threw a mantle over her shoulders, and said, in a quick voice, ‘Catherine, the air is cluse here, I cannot. breathe; come with me. he would have been, by this marâ€" really touched, were she to bring him a crown for a dowry.’ ‘ V’tht 'l‘ asked the princess, more attentvc. ‘ Because I know that he Was loved by the daughter of a king, who wished to elevate him to her; that ridge, Viceroy of the kingdom of Sicily. And he refused, because he did not love the woman who offered him so high a rank.’ ,‘ Catherine,’ said the princess, drily, ‘you are rather too much in- clined to make M. de Cerigiiy a hero of romance. If anybody else heard you, they mightsupposc . Besides, I advise you, for your own interest, not to allow yourself to be carried away by your enthusiasm; for in :t short time this youn man will quit my court.’ Catherine made no answer. They returned to the palace. The prin- ccssdismisscd her young lady of ‘All WO-lhonour, and retired to her own apartment. CHAPTER iii. The next day, at noon, she sent for Ccrigny. who immediately ap- peared. ‘ Monsieur Envoy of Kell,’ said the princess, coldly, ‘I have reflected. The alliance with your master is advantageous, for many reasons. You will have the good- ness to cause this letter to be con- veyed to him, in which I consent to the union, asking only a month to prepare for" the execution of my pro- misc. ‘ What, madame,’ stammcrcd Cer- ignv, ‘ you choose the Prince of Kcll 7.’ ‘I supposed that you would be but too happy to communicate the intelligence to him, at your earliest convenience. Do you hesitate?’ ‘ If you command it. Then, the Duke of Cronstadt, the Prince of Hamburg " , ‘Thcit‘ ambassadors have gone,’ said the princess, smil'nO'. ‘ Baron Muller l’â€"‘ A miscr and a heartless man.’ The shades of the park must be delightful at. this hour. Conn. ' What, madame! Alone 'l’ ‘ Are you afraid 7.’ ' Certainly not, and if your highâ€" iicss commands ’ ‘ The Count Reimbcrg l’â€"â€"‘ I des- pise him.’ ‘ And he who loves you, madame, and does not say so P’ ‘ A fool! whom I do not wish to drill and your love for Mademoiselle :Wmm‘WM , know. ‘But go, sir, write to the prince, and send him my letter.’ ‘I obey, madzrmc,’ said Ccrigny, bowing to depart. SurpriSed that he did not oppose her resolution. the princess Ilelen. followed him with her eyes to the door, and then said, “As to your protege?’ Ccrigny started, and stopped. ‘You see that to will is not to do.’ ‘She thinks of it,’ said Ccrigny to himself; then he added aloud, ‘I’oor gentleman, he will submit, l so..wm.mmmmwm n - Ccrigny’s eyes. ‘ And supposing that this love existed, iriudame,’ said he. smiling, ‘tind that I wished to make Mademoiselle dc Kindclling the poor woman to you.’ my w’fe 7.’ ‘ And am I nothing here, so"! Are you sure of my Consent? Are you certain that I haVe not disposed of her hand 1" ‘ But, it she has disposed of her heart ’l’ ‘In your favour. doubtless ’l’ con- tinued the princess, ironically. ‘It would be a happiness for which and will never trouble you withhis I must not hope.’ pt‘cscncc.’ ‘ Ah ! then you think that this great passion is conquci‘ed.’ ‘ ‘ While you were not engagedâ€"- while your heart, like your person, was free, he might hope. But i' bear his condcniriation.’ The princess was irrcsolute, and hesitated an instant, with her eyes cost down. Ccrigny waited for a moment, and then retired. Helen raised her head, sighed, and mor- iriurcd, ‘Nothiug truc lâ€"iiothmg profound l-â€"lovc is but a dream! I will marry the Prince of Kell.’ That evening, in the reception room, the princess was astonished to see Ccrigny with a laughing face and unusual spirits, which certainly justified Catherine dc Kindelling’s remark. Stationcd behind the chair of the latter, Ccrigny bent frequent- ly forward to whisper, and Cather- ii‘c rcplicd in a like manner behind her fan. This little flirtation, during which the young people seemed to forch that there were twenty pco~ plc around to observe them, singu- larly irritated the princess. She paid no attention to the conversation around, and her eyes scarcely quit- ted the young couple. At last, out of patience at seeing the scene pro- longed, she ended Catherine towards her, with a loud, sharp voice. The young girl blushed, answered her with alacrity. and went to sent her- self behind the princess. But thel humourof'her highncs’s‘was visible; and as at :ourt, whether it be a large or a little one, the face of the sovereign is the thermometer which regulates thefeatuics of tho cour- tici's, the evening pnssod off gloomi- ly, and the company broke up, notâ€" withstanding the sudden gaicty of Cci'igny. That evening the princess did not not address a word to Catheridc, and as Marguerite had been for three days very uneasy at the cold demeunour of the princess towards her, which neither she nor the count could explain, she was enchanted at the disfavour in which Catherine had fallen. The next day, the princess, on on- tering her cnbinct, found Catherine reading a letter, which she precipi- tzitclv concealed. ‘ ’vtht is that, rimdemoiscllc’!’ she asked; ‘ why do you hide {that letter with such trepi- dation 7.’ ‘l‘dudame,’ replied the young girl, with downcast eyc, ‘ it is a letter of no interest, and l-â€"â€"â€"-" ‘ Mademoiselle de Kindclling,’ said the princess, sevm‘ely, ‘ you are alone at my court; you were confi- ded to me, and i own an account of your notions :is well as of my own; give me, then, this letter which you hid so qiiietly.’ ' Madame l’ ‘ Give it to me. I will have it so.’ Catherine obeyed. The princess glanced at the signature, and turned very pale. At that moment M. de Ccrigny was announced. ‘l.enve inc, tiradcmoisclle,’ said the princess, quickly; ‘ leave me l' I'Iow sir, are you not yet gone 'l’ asked she, with a voice which she vainly tried to render firm. ‘ I, madame i’ said the young man, surprised. ‘ Were you not to carry a letter to the prince ?’ " Pardon, madam. I understoodl that I was only to send it.’ ‘ You understood wrongly, sir. Such letters are not confided to ordi- nary carrier:..’ ‘Is it an order to depart that your higiiness gives me l’ ‘I believe, sir, that your depar- ture is, indeed, indispcnsible.’ ‘ 'vVhat have I done, then, madame, to deserve this severity from you, and that you should forbid me today that wl‘iicl‘i you permitted yesterday â€"-your presence 1’ ‘ You have done nothing to me-'â€" to me personally; but you have of- fended vne indirectly... In fact, there is at my court must unheard-of scari- Kii’idclling, a young lady confided to me ’ A gleam of joy passed through ‘ Stop, sir.’ said the princess, whose heart was swelling, and who with difficulty retained her tears. ‘you do not know how bitter it is to .find nothing but deceit and treason around one! To-morrow, I shall send Marguerite dc VVezcl from my court; she does not deserve my kindness! And Catherine, whom I loved as it sister! and you, sir, who have abused my confidence wâ€"all this falsehood envelopes me like an iron cage. All! lam confounded with Zgrief and shame.’ ‘ Madame !’ ‘I am wrong, doubtless. This is the consequence of the high rank which they envy. Never to he able to relyon a sincere affectionâ€"always to fear and mistrust.’ ‘ But, madame, I do notcomprc- bend you.’ ‘ You do not comprehend! You may spare yourself the trouble of feigning. Here is your letter, signed oy you. You see that I know all; your love, your hopes.’ ‘ This letter! Have you read it, madame i” ‘ The first line only; it is clear enough.’ - ‘Will you permit me,’ said Cer- igny, taking the letter, ‘ to read you these lines, with the thoughts which dictated them i’ ‘ What do you mean '1’ ‘I sent him off.’ ‘ Really ! And the baron ?’ ‘Knowing his parsimony,I sent ‘ And the count? ask of youâ€"that of Marguerite} ‘ Whom the Congrltcimberg shall marry. I am so happy myself, that I wish everybody to be happy around me. And you shall write to the Prince of Kell that, henceforth, he must choose ambassadors less cauti- vating.’ ‘ ’ ’ g. ._ ,_.._..._‘_.. _ .._,A ANECDOTE OF QUEEN VICTORIA. _â€"-â€" The following admirable ll‘ttll in the character of the Queen may not be generally known. 'Vthn Prin~ cess Victoria, she is said to have frequently amused herself by going, incognito, in a carriage, to different sliOpS, and derivedgrent entertain- ment, when divested of the appciid~ ages attendant upon royalty, iii on- serving, as a passive spectator, the infinite variety of incidents and oc- cupations with which London abounds. Being,r one day at Bundcll & Bridge-’5, she observed, among many other objects tl'iatattrnctcd at- tention, one that fixed it. This was a young and intelligent lady, who was most scdulously employed in looking over" different gold chains for the neck, which were alternately presented to her for inspection. Af- ter she had admired several, she asked the price of one which seemed to have peculiarly struck her funcv. The price was named, but was moi‘e than she imagined it would have been. ‘Could it not be offered cheaper 'l’ ‘Impossible.’ The young lady seemed discon- ‘ Will you my be offended if] read, ccrtcd, examined the chain again, no their complete sense 2’ ‘I do not understand ‘ Well, madame, I will commence, the first words are as follows?â€" ‘ Thanks, my dear Catherine, for the word which has inspired me with hepc. Thanks, from my inmost heart, for the happiness which you promise mc !’ ’ The princess made a movement, as if to interrupt him. ‘ Your high- ness permit me to finish. ‘ You have discovered that I have dared to lift my eyes to the beautiful, the noble lady, who is surrounded by love and respect; and when I quit- 7 the heart is yours, although it wresâ€" 80 111W!) l tics yet.’ ‘ Monsieur l’ ‘ I continue, madame:â€"~‘ You are a dear, good creature, Catherineâ€"â€" you will have pity on this love, which is my life; that is to say, you will pray your noble mistress to look upon me. You will tell her that never was so profound, so true a love laid at her feet! You will tell her that this life, which I wish to consc- cate to her, will he resigned, without hesitation, if the sacrifice can assure her liappincss.’ <‘ Is it possible this is all true !’ ‘Read the end of the letter, ma- dame; lpromised to Mademoiselle ole Kindclliug, as the price of her kindness, to ask for her, of you, the hand of her cousin, Frederick Offen- burg.’ ‘ Then, she whom you love ' ‘ Need I name her!’ said Cerigny, kneeling before the princess. ‘O'n, Heaven, if this be true f Re- lovcd~â€"â€"â€"’ 'Or rather adored. Why do you doubt, madame! Has not true love a language which is not to be mis- 3 taken ?’ ‘ Oh ! yes, yes! I believe you, M. de Ccrigny,’ said the princess, delighted and moved. ‘It would be too much misery to doubt your Words. Oh l’ exclaimed she, with a ,start, ‘ my letter to the prince l’ ’ Here it is; I could not resolve to send it; Istill hoped.’ ‘ Free I and you love me! Rise, Count dc Cet‘igriyâ€"â€"f0r I can ennoble my husband‘s-and you shall beer for device " " ‘ To will is to do.’ ‘ My heart had not, then, deceived me.- It was to you that I owed my life; and Ishallowe, now, my happi- ucss, also. But you must acknow- ledge that certain events have fa- voured your wishes.’ ’ ‘Yes, by helping them out a little.’ ‘How?’ ‘ The Envoy of Hom- burg'l’ tonly these wmten words, but took it up, and finally laid it down a second time, appearing-to part from it with reluctance. However, at length she admitted that the price Was far too high, chose a much cheaper one, which she ordered to be sent home, and went away.-â€"â€" The young Princess Victoria, who had silently observed the different working,r of the mind of the lady, as displayed in her. countenance, in- quired who she was, and, upon re- ceiving satisfactory information, 0r~ dered the firm to pack up the gold jchain which had so attracted her at- tention with the one she had pur- jchased, and sent it with a card, sig- ted 1,0,, mud Wm, grief, despairing, nifying that the" Princess Victoria becauSc lthouglit her lost to me,lwas 3” “"3” Pleased Wllh Obseernt-l you said, .Hope 1 you are beloved! that the young lady. who had been I alien with the beauty and workmanship of the chain, and yet had so much command of her pas- sions_as not to suffer these to 'overâ€" come her prudence, that she, there- Ifore, in toke’n'of‘her approval, de- sired her to accept the chain which lshe so much admired, in the hope that she would always persevere in that laudable litre of conduct upon which female happiness so much depended. __ j FAMILY TROUBLES. l l Was ever there a family without its troubles? Adam and Eve had their troubles in Eden; and all fa- milies have had their troublesâ€"’- Every family has a skeleton behind the door; every person a thorn in his side. It is said that misery loves company, so take courage hapless man, wearied woman. You are in the majority. ‘ Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.’ A useless family would yours be if it knew no trouble. Trouble is our great teacher. It nerves us with strength; it gives us courage; it tempers our mettle; it deVelops our self-control; it quickens our inven- tive powers. Troubles are to us what the winds are to the oak,what labor is to muscle, what study is to mind. Life is a school, and trou- ble is one of the great lessons.â€" Troubles are not to be courted, but when they come we must get over them the best way we can, or bear them with the best fortitude We can arouse. Take courage, therefore, troubled one. Not in vain are your trials. They make you brave, strong, and, it is to be hoped, better. Be not cost down ; cheer up 5 cast aside your weeds and woes. Look the world in the face; do yourduty; take every trouble by the horns, overcome it with the courage of a true soldier in life’s great campaign, and stoutly contend for the victory ,of will and wisdom. M No. 137. Ah, now, that must have been you, alSo, but since it is all true, ’twas an honest War.’ ‘ I have only one more pardon to . '. OUR HOMES SHOULD BE‘BEA'U‘M- FUL.-â€"~N0l. only should we cpltivate such tempers as to render the inter- course of home amiable and, affec- ’ tionatc,’ but we should strive to adorn it with those charms which good sense and refinement so easily impart to it. VV'e say easily, for there are persons who think that a homo cannot be beautiful without considerable outlay of money. Such people are in error. It costs little to have a neat flower garden, and to surround your dwelling with these simple beauties which delight the eye far more than expensive objects. Nature delights in beauty. Ste loves to brighten the landscape and make it agreeable to the eye. She hangs ivy around the ruin, and over the stump of a withered trec twiries the graceful vine. A thousand graceful arts she praCtises to aniâ€" mate the senses and please the mind. Follow her example, and do for yourself what she is always laboring to do for you. ’ \VIIAT ARE TREES MADE OF. If we were to take up a handful of soil and examine it under the micro- scope, we should probably find it to contain a number of fragments of wood, small broken pieces of branch- es or leaves, or other parts of the tree. If we could examine it che- mically, we should find yet more strikineg that it was nearly the same as wood in its composition.â€" Perhups, then, it may be said, the young plant obtains its wood from the earth, in which it grows. The following experiment will show whether this conjecture is correct or not. Two hundred pounds of earth were dried in an oven, and after- wards put into a large earthen vcs« sel; the earth was then moistened with rain-water, and u willow tree weighing five pounds was planted therein. During,r the space of five years the earth was carefully wao tcrcd with rain water. The willow grew and flourished, and to prevent the earth from being mixed with fresh earth, being blown upon it by winds, it was covered with a metal plate full of very minute holes, which would exclude everything but air from getting access t) the earth belcw it. After growing in the earth for five years, the tree was removed, and on being weighed was found to have gained one hunt dred and sixty-four pounds. And this estimate did not include the weight of the leaves or dead branches which in five years fell from the tree. Now came the application of the test. Was all this obtained from the earth? It had not sensibly di- minislied; but in order to make the experiment conclusive, it was again dried in an oven and put in the bal- ance. Astonishing was the result -â€"â€"the earth weighed only two ounces less than it did when the wil« low was first planted in it! yet the tree had gained one hundred and sixty-four pounds. Manifestly, then, the wood thus gained in the space of time was not obtained from the earth; we are therefore obliged to repeat our question, ‘ where does the wood come from ’l’ We are left with only two alternatives, the wa- ter with which it was refreshed, or the air in which it lived. It can be clearly shown that it was not due to the water . We are conscquently unable to resist the perplexing and wonderful concltisrouwit was de- rived from the air. Can it be? Was those great ocean spaces of wood, which are as old as man’s introduction into Eden, and wave in their vast and solitary luxuriancc over the fertile hills and plains of South America, were all those obtained from the thin air lâ€"as Were the particles which unite to form our battle ships, “Old Eng- land’s walls of wood, ever borne the world about, not only on wings of air themselves? Was the firm table on which I write, the chair on which I rest, the solid floor on- which I dwell, once in a form which! I could not as much as lay my finger on and grasp in my hand ?â€"-- Wonderful truth ! all this is air lâ€"v English Paper. A secession flag was recently captured; antler arousing circumstances, at Potosi, Md; knowingr the flag to be in the house, the officer, failing to find it elsewhere, had; his attention attracted to a lady seated in an uneasy position; politely. insisted on the lady rising, the officer dis-covered the hateful rag, thirty feet by nine, conccaltd- under her hoops. THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ENGLISH AND SCOTCH l’iiopLE.-â€"â€"The inhabitants of the northern portion of the island differ greater from their southern ncigli~ here with regard to some matters. The English are essentially a fighting race; they are fond of fighting for its own sake. They fight themselves; they make their dogs and cocks fight, and their horses fight in the only way they are capable of being placed in competition. If you con. tradict a Scotchinun, he will reason with you to prove that. lie is right; but ifyou contradict an Englishman, unless he is more than ordinary intelligent, the likli- hood is that he will use unpardonable lang- uage, and perhaps give you an unpardon- able blew. his the want of reasoning power that makes John Bull fond of the uncertainties of the turf.