In reply to the call of Prof. Turner, in our last, we have been kindly famished with the following interesting reminiscences by the author of "A visit to the House and Garden of A. J. Downing" in our January number.

" It was in the winter of 1851-2 that the writer first saw Mr. Downing. Happening to be at a email party where he was among the guests, just when the circle was breaking up, I was saluted by a tall, somewhat grave gentleman, who, after an introduction, cordially and frankly invited me to his house in Newburgh, naming the day and thus leaving no donbt in my mind as to the sincerity of his intention. As he talked to me, I observed that his eyes were of a peculiar beauty, large, dark, and finely shaped, inspiring confidence by their steady glance and friendliness of expression. His hair was long and dark, falling on his forehead somewhat, and aiding the poetic character of his face. In his mouth lay the key to the secret of his success. Wide, and rather compressed, and not well opened in speaking, it expressed will and perseverance in no common degree and ballanced the less stern and more flowing character of the upper portion of his face His figure was slight and graceful; neat and precise in his dress, which was seldom of a lighter hue thau black, his manners had a certain gravity and restraint through which a close observer could easily distinguish the possibilities of a large and generous humour.

To all who are familiar with his writings, it is unnecesary to say that Mr. Downing's vein of humor and delicate sharp-cutting satire, was by no means the least of his gifts. These powers shone out in his conversation, which was rich and varied, and made him a welcome addition to the troupe of private theatric stars whose performances so often made his house ring with mirth. One of Mr. Down-ing's performances in this way, we well remember. It was a charade, which, about Christmas time, was keeping the cheerful fire and lights to make our hearts glad with "Mirth that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter, holding both his aides".

" Mr. Downing's share in the acting was a discontented traveling Englishman, who is fighting his way through the grand tour, and doing his best to make himself and his companions as miserable as possible. No words can do justice to the manner in which he fretted and teased, nor the solemnity with which he received " the inextinguishable laughter" that shook his audience. His acting was natural, unexaggerated, and, like everything he did, perfectly unaffected. Even in these slight and apparently unimportant matters, he gave a stranger, such as I was then, the impression of a man who attempted nothing that he did not feel confident he could perform in the most complete manner.

"In dispensing the hospitalities of his house, Mr. Downing was free and generous; his time, of course, was largely occupied with his immediate business, and bis absences were frequent Once a month he went to Washington, and his visit there generally included other places, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Newport, and some others nearer home, where he was building houses, or laying out grounds. My first visit was made a few days before he left for his monthly journey, and as the weather was stormy, and he much occupied with indoor work, I saw but little of the arrangement of his garden, but I had a fine opportunity to learn something of the man. This is not the place, nor is it my object, to analyze Mr. Downing's character. Another pen will shortly give to the world a fitter and more complete account than I have power to write - a life of Mr. Downing, to which these feeble hints and sketches, with which our journals have long abounded, will serve but as preface and introduction.

"I reached Mr. Downing's house late in the evening. The winter had been unusually severe; the river was frozen to a greater extent than is at all common; the ferry had ceased plying, ana loaded wagons, sleighs filled with passengers shrinking from the cutting blasts that streamed up and down between the mountains; and, beside these, hundreds of foot passengers crossed, thro' the day, over this apparently frail, but in reality secure, bridge of ice. At night the spectacle was grander but less enlivening. It was not with an entire freedom from anxiety that I found myself for the first time upon the ice, half way between either shore, with the moon and stars above me and no sound save the low blowing of the winter wind and the dismal booming of the cracking ice. Perhaps this feeling added zest to the pleasure with which, after a long walk, I found myself standing by Mr. Downing's fireside in his handsome and cheerful library. There may have been something in this, but it was not all the secret, for subsequent visits lost none of their attractions with the opening river and the greater ease of access".

"I must detain the reader a moment to speak of a conversation held on the night of my first visit, which has such a bearing on the character of whom I write, as not to be without its value. We were talking of fame, and of how far it is desirable, and I do not know through what eye paths of episode we came to speak of legends and fairy stories, but we found ourselves on that enchanted ground, and each of us in turn saying which of these stories had been his favorite in childhood. One of us preferred, before all others, the story in which a fairy gives to some mortal the choice of three wishes; and after due discussion, we began to indulge our fancy with supposing that each of us had the gift of such a choice, what would he choose! One of us chose unbounded wealth; another, troops of friends; another, to be perfectly good. I remember Mr. Downing's choice; it was for a character of magnetic influence that should draw all men to him as a friend and benefactor, that should open paths to him wherever he might walk and render him capable of infinite service to his fellow men. Without this, he said, wealth would be nothing, and fame cold - the shadow, and not the substance, of a happy life. After this, there followed a long discussion.

I remember nothing of it; the voice, full, round, and clear, the sincere look, and earnest conviction of the man, abide with me to this hour".

" Mr. Downing thought, and somewhere, I doubt not, has expressed bis feeling in this matter, that men in America are too much absorbed in business, and make it too unlovely. American men in cities, and those in the country who are not in the open air when at their work, labor from sunrise to sunset in ugly, dark, ill-ventilated rooms, stewing their minds over interminable rows of figures, and their bodies over unhealthy stoves, and so year after year until the day is past for the active enjoyment of their money, and the long abused body takes its fair revenge. Mr. Downing was industrious, no man more so; but he made a pleasure of business, and when he closed his office door at night he welcomed recreation as heartily as he did the graver duties of life.

"The winter passed away slowly and unwillingly. The river gradually dissolved its bridge of ice; the 6now slid from the far off tops of Skannymunk and Butler Hill; and the Fiehkill Creek, a quiet rambling brook in the heart of summer, swelled and foamed with the freshets of spring, and went tumbling and roaring to the turbid river. When I had last seen Mr. Downing's garden, the veil which winter had thrown over her beauties when he married her, was unremoved. The trees were bare, the cedars and other evergreens were beautiful with their snowy fruitage, and, to my mind, fairer than when summer shows their green; but life, chilled by the winter winds and cloudy skies, had grown and bloomed within doors, where, like the plants in the neighboring green-house, she laid up store of health and strength to bear the more active duties of the coming summer. G. C.