I was much pleased with the communication from your new correspondent Mr. French, and hope he may write often, as it will add considerably to the interest of the Horticulturist. Is there no way to induce "Jeffries" to resume his pen? I feel quite grieved at losing his pleasant criticisms, and have no doubt it would be pleasant to a great many to meet with them again. "W. H." seems to be quite in despair about his plums as well as myself, but I intend planting some where the fowls will have free acess to them, and see what that will do. I hope the "Stowell" sweet corn will soon get far enough south to reach us. It must be a very desirable variety.

Mrs. Bateham's remarks were well worth a place in the Horticulturist, and it is to be hoped they may do good. What a blessing it would be to the country if we had many more of such sensible women. I should like to see a piece of poetry by Mary Howitt, "on the use of flowers," in your columns, as it well deserves a place, but do not like to send it without knowing whether it would be acceptable or not.

"We wish to plant two trees in front of our house (a western exposure) that will soon make a shade, and such as are not liable to be attacked by insects. • Would not the sugar maple be suitable? - [very suitable.] We have a good many fine roses in an open space in front of our dwelling, but they do not grow as I could wish. What kind of manure had I better apply? The soil is rather light, and I suppose not as rich as it ought to be. [Well rotted stable manure - bury it as deep as you can.] I have succeeded better in raising the Oleander, Azalea, and Daphne from cuttings by placing them in vials of rain water, excluding the air with raw cotton, and keeping them In the window, than in any other way; of course we keep filling the vial as it requires it - as soon as the roots are half an inch long, plant them in light soil. I frequently start roses in the same way. I have

The Great Discovery in Vegetation.

IT is one of the misfortunes of an editor to be expected to answer all questions, as if he were an oracle. It is all pleasant enough when his correspondent is lost in the woods, and he can speedily set him right, or when he is groping in some dark passage that only needs the glimmer of his farthing candle of experience, to make the way tolerably clear to him. But correspondents are often unreasonable, and ask for what is little short of a miracle. It is clear that an editor is not only expected to know everything, but that he is not to be allowed the comfort of belonging to any secret societies, or any of those little fraternities where such a charming air of mystery is thrown over the commonest subjects.

We are brought to these reflections by a letter that has just come beforo us, and which runs as follows:

Dear Sir - I hare been expecting in the last two numbers, to hear from you on the subject of the great discovery in vegetation, which was laid before the committee of the State Agricultural Society at its annual meeting in January last. You were, if I mistake not, a member of that committee, and of course, the fullest disclosures of the secret of the gentleman who claims to have found out a new "principle in vegetation," were laid before you. No formal report, has, I think, been published by the Society. The public are, therefore, in the dark still. Is this right, when the discoverer is now urging the legislature of this state to pass a bill giving him a bonus of $150,000 to make his secret public, for the benefit of all cultivators of the soil? Either the thing is pure humbug, or there is something in it worthy of attention-Pray enlighten us on this subject? Yours, etc.

Been urging bis great discovery upon the attention of congress and the legislature for ten or twelve years past, put all the committee tinder a solemn vow of secrecy, thougb we protested at the time against bis expecting that a horticultural editor should preserve silence touching anything that is told him sub rosa.

And yet we would not treat our correspondent rudely - for bis letter only expresses what a good many others have expressed to us verbally. We shall, therefore, endeavor to console him for the want of the learned dissertation on vegetable physiology which he no doubt expected, by telling him a story.

Once on a time there was a little spaniel who lived only for the good of bis race. He had a mild countenance, and looked at the first, enough like other dogs. But for all that he was an oddity. Year in and year out, this little spaniel wandered about with a wise look, like the men that gaze at the stars through the great telescopes. The fact was, he had taken it into his head that he was a philosopher, and had discovered a great secret. This was no less than the secret of instinct by which dogs do so many wonderful things, that some men with all their big looks, their learning, yes, and even their wonderful knack of talking, cannot do.

It was curious to see how the little spaniel who had turned philoshpher, gave himself up to this fancy that had got into his head. He had a comfortable kennel, where he might have kept house, barked, looked after trespassers, where he might have been well fed, and had a jolly time of it like other dogs.

But no, he was far too wise for that. He bad, as be said, found out something that would alter the whole "platform" on which dogs stood, something that would help them to carry their heads higher than many men he could name, instead of being obliged to play second fiddle to the horse. If the community of dogs in general would but listen to him, he would teach them not only how to be always wise and rich, how to be strong and hearty, but above all, how to preserve their scent - for the scent is a pleasure that dogs prize as much as some old ladies who take snuff. In short, the knowledge of this wonderful discovery would bring about a canine millennium - for be as-sured them that not only was every one of them entitled to his "day," but that "a good time was coming," even for dogs.

And why, you will say, did not our philosopher divulge for the benefit of the whole family of dogs? "It is so pleasant to do something for the elevation of our race," as the travelled monkey thought when he was teaching his brothers to walk on their bind legs. All the dogs in the country could not but owe him a debt of gratitude, since they would soon become so wise that they might even teach their masters something of instinct. And then they would be so happy - since there would not be a downcast tail in all the land - for the whole country would be in one perpetual wag of delight.

Ah! dear reader, we see that you, who put such questions, know nothing either of philosophy, or the world. As if the people who discover why the world turns round, and the stars shine, throw their knowledge into the street for every dog to trample on. No, indeed! They will have a patent for it, or a great sum of money from the government, or something of that sort. It would be a sorry fellow who should think that every new thing found out is to be given away to every body for nothing at all, in that manner. To be sure, it would, perhaps, benefit mankind all the more, but that is only half the question. "If you think the moon is made of green cheese," said our curly philosopher to his friends, "you arc greatly mistaken. I am well satisfied, for my part, that that is only a vulgar error. If it had been, John Bull would have eaten it up for lunch a long time ago."

So our philosopher went about among his fellow dogs, far and near, and spent most of his little patrimony in waiting on distinguished mastiffs, Newfoundlands, and curs of high degree. He went, also, to all conventions or public assemblies, where wise terriers were in the habit of putting their heads together for the public good. Wherever he went, you would see him holding some poor victim by the button, expounding his great secret, and showing how the progress, yes, and the very existence of dogs, depended upon the knowledge of his secret - since it would really explain in a moment everything that had been dark since the days when their great-grandfathers were kept from drowning in the ark. Only let the congress of grey-hounds agree to pay him a million of money, and he would make known principles that would make the distemper cease, and all the other ills that dog-flesh is heir to, fade clean out of memory.

Some of the big dogs to whom he told his secret, (always, remember, in the strictest confidence,) shook their heads, and looked wise; others, to get rid of his endless lectures, gave him a certificate, saying that Solomon was wrong when he said there was nothing new under the sun; and all agreed that there was no denying that there is something in it, though they could not exactly say it was a new discovery.

Finally, after a long time spent in lobbying, and after wise talks with all the members that would listen to him, yes, and after exhibiting to every dog that had an hour to give him, his collection of dogs' bones that had died solely because of the lamentable ignorance of his secret in dog-dom, he found a committee that took hold of his doctrine in good earnest - quite determined to do justice to him, and vote him a million if he deserved it, but, nevertheless, quite determined not to be humbugged by any false doggerel, however potent it might have been to terriers less experienced in this current commodity of many modern philosophers.

It was a long story, that the committee were obliged to hear, and there were plenty of hard words thrown in to puzzle terriers who might not have had a scientific education in their youth. But the dogs on the committee were not to be puzzled; they seized hold of the fundamental principle of the philosophic spaniel, tossed it, and worried it, and shook it, till it stood out, at last, quite a simple truth, (how beautiful is deep philosophy,) and it was this The great secret of perfect instinct in dogs, is to keep their noses cool.

Of course, the majority of the committee were startled and delighted with the novelty and grandeur of the discovery. There were, to be sure, a few who had the fool-hardiness to remark, that the thing was not new, and had been acted upon, time pher who has spent his life in studying nature and the hooks, to such good results, shall not have a million for his discovery?