From the eminence on which the castle stands, the eye overlooks a great extent of woodland, which an American might almost mistake for a portion of our uncleared forests. On the south is the Park, fourteen miles in circuit, containing deer, and presenting scenes of groves and copses; while the 'Long Walk,' which leads to i', is a fine avenue shaded by a double row of trees, three miles in length. Windsor Forest, the old royal hunting grounds, spreads far away over the country below the observer, and covers a surface fifty-six miles in circumference. Some of the largest, most aged and venerable oaks in the kingdom, are found among the patriarchs of that extensive district.

The present town is properly called New Windsor, for it dates only back to the time of William the Conqueror, to whom the Castle owes its foundation. The Saxon kings had their residence in Old Windsor, some distance east. The new town is a borough and market town of Berkshire, 22 miles south-west by south from London. It is pleasantly situated, on the Thames, and contains about 4,000 inhabitants. It belongs to the Crown, as it has done ever since the Conquest. The three principal streets are handsome, and well paved and lighted.

The Castle has been the favourite reɛidence of the Kings of England for seven hundred years. Edward III. almost rebuilt it, so extensive were the repairs which he gave it. During the civil wars it was much dilapidated, and restored in the reign of Charles II. The grand terrace on the declivity of the hill, is 1870 feet in length, faced with freestone, and ends at the gate which opens into the Parks. These are several miles in length and surrounded by a high brick. wall.

The Castle is divided into two courts, by the Great Round Tower, or Donjon ; and covers twelve acres. The Upper

Court is square; on the west of it lies the town; north the royal apartments, St. George's Hall, and royal chapel; east and south the chambers of the officers of state. In the centre of this court is an equestrian statue of Charles II., in the dress of a Roman emperor; under which is some curious machinery, by which the palace is supplied with water.

The lower court is of larger size, and divided into two parts by St. George's Chapel, formerly dedicated to Edward the Confessor. On the western side were the houses of the "Poor Knights of Windsor," who receive every year, £18, and a scarlet gown, with a cross on the sleeve. On the north side are the star-buildings.

St. George's Hall, appropriated to the Knights of the Garter, is 108 feet long. In St. George's Hall lies buried King Henry VIII. In the Round Tower is a free school. The barracks, for horse and foot soldiers, are extensive.

In the Castle are numerous apartments; among which are the Queen's guard chamber, presence chamber, ball-room, drawing-room, room of beauties, Queen Elizabeth's chamber or picture-gallery; as well as the various rooms appropriate to the Kings.

Many additions and improvements have been made in different parts of the Castle, since 1824, when Parliament appropriated for the purpose £500,000.

At a time when the various arts have attained so high a degree of improvement, and when landscape gardening and the interior embellishment of buildings are so successfully cultivated, it might be expected that the large sum of money above mentioned would be applied with great effect to this ancient Castle and its grounds. A visitor, properly prepared by the reading of history, and the training of the taste for nature and art, may here find subjects for pleasing and useful contemplation, even during a protracted stay.

"THE TREES OF AMERICA." The examination of this newly published work of Mr. Browne, has impressed us anew with the exceeding importance of extensively cultivating the branch of science to which it is devoted. If all men were of our opinion, and felt the zeal with which we are filled, an important change would be made in the educa tion of many of our children before the close of the week. Teachers, and not they alone, but parents, would begin to direct the attention of the young to the subjects of the vegetable kingdom around them, and give a direction to their taste, at least, even if they felt incompetent to introduce them to the science. As things are, the very opposite is done, and every day doing. The teacher does not encourage even a desire to learn: much less does he communicate any knowledge. of this great and essential branch of a good education. We speak it with bitter regret, and with a reluctance which arises from a sense of national reproach, when we say, that even many of our highest institutions, our colleges and universities, do incalculable injury to the country, by treating botany, in all its departments, with silent contempt. We

are

aware of the common apologies which are so ready in the mouths of those who pursue or advocate the old plan of education; we know that "much is now crowded into four years," and that "the discipline of the mind is a very important object." But we are by no means as well satisfied with these, or any other excuses, as some of our countrymen and highly esteemed friends. We have looked upon these subjects first from the windows of a college, and then from the haunts of men and the scenes of nature. We have theorized and we have practised; and our practice has been varied between things and men, youth and children. The results have been long ago produced, and now for many years have been receiving confir

mation; and we feel confident, that if a similar course of observation, enquiry and experiment had been the lot of some of the most influential teachers of youth, they would be, at this day, among the warmest advocates of engrafting the study of nature upon every system of education.

Although we can never pursue this subject even as far as we have already gone, without feeling that it presents numerous and attractive ramifications, we have no intention, at the present time, of extending our remarks beyond very moderate limits. We will answer, in one of the shortest and most effectual modes that the logic of the schools offers to us, the objection respecting "the discipline of the mind." We have the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with Mr. Browne, the author of the volume before us; and can confidently say, that his mind exhibits as much evidence of good discipline, as if it had been trained four, eight or twenty years in Greek and Latin, although he spent much of the time which is devoted by many others to those studies, and their sisters, Algebra, fluxions, &c., in traversing large portions of the two continents, in search of a practical acquaintance with botany and other natu ral sciences. If our opinion is "good enough for ourselves," as we may perhaps be reminded, we may request the attention of a doubter, to the plan and execution of his book: a plan exhibiting a regular and perfect, though a broad and complex system, embracing ten thousand objects, each claiming a particular place of its own, and there to be found, with unvarying certainty, in the midst of its own kin, and attended by a list of terms expressive of its attributes, each applied, not onl" with studied accuracy and the utmost conciseness, but according to fixed rules of order, which, we will venture to say, are regarded, from one end of the volume to the other. This shows much "discipline of the mind."

We are no depreciators of the ancient tongues-(nay, we read three of them almost every day of our lives, and have taken the pains to learn to speak some Greek), but we lament to see the old monkish ideas still bearing rule in our institutions of learning, because they depreciate some of the vital branches of knowledge, while they elevate their fa vorite ones, and sometimes for other reasons than the best.

It is a common complaint, that the noble art of agriculture is neglected by men of education, and that the country suf fers in consequence. We will venture to say, that the ground of this complaint will fast disappear, when the study of the sciences most essential to agriculture shall begin to be taught, or even be recommended by teachers, as worthy of attention and admiration, as of the highest interest to man, abounding in gratification and improvement for the mind, and as essential and indispensable parts of a good education.

We have made this long preface, at the risk of leaving ourselves but little room to say what we wished, to say in illustration of the advantages which an acquaintance even with one branch of botany would give to a person in common agricultural life. However, we may per haps have done as much to attain our ultimate object, if the preceding remarks should lead to a deliberate consideration of the question.

We would that a few, at least, of our parents would take the subject into their own hands. Each of us should do so, whether we have good instructors for our children or not. We are sensible that the first exclamation from many will be, at the first mention of such a plan, that it cannot be done, for want of knowledge. But they are greatly mistaken, who think they cannot easily do much to direct and improve their children, with a book like this in their hands. Let any man read a single page, and he will find

several interesting and useful facts which he can easly communicate to his children, and which they are ever ready to receive with gratification. Let the experiment be made; and we are sure it will be successful.

To choose from multitudes of the topics embraced in this volume, we will take seeds and wood. It is one on which we have often conversed with our young friends, the children of our family and neighborhood, and what we may now say will be a part of what we have often said and heard.

The subject can hardly be mentioned without the expression of a lively interest; showing that the minds of the young early discover something of its cu rious and wonderful nature. Seeds are of various forms and sizes, of different qualities and uses. To be ignorant of some of the most valuable kinds of food, and of the objects of the labors of millions of our race, who are employed in the culture of wheat, rice, &c., may easily be shown to be foolish and blameable.

The following notes relative to the du ration of the locust wood [Robinia pseu do acacia,] have been made by M. Pepin, Jardin du Roi, Paris:-A number of trees were felled that had been planted from 40 to 50 years; but not more than one to five of those wheelwrights who came to purchase, appreciated sufficiently the locust, the others preferring elm. Ultimately the locust was sold to the persons who knew its value, at one third higher price than the elm. The purcha sers found that spokes made of the wood in question lasted two sets of felloes, and were likely to answer for a third. Under equal circumstances of wear and tear spokes made of locust wood were perfectly sound, while those of oak required to be replaced. M. Pepin further states that the ends of locust gate posts which had been in the soil for upwards of forty years were still not decayed. This sort of wood employed as feet or supports to chests made of oak, proved sound, although the oak plank in contact with them had been thrice renewed; but oak supports decayed simultaneously with the oak planks of the chest. repeat such facts are pleasing and useful.

We

Process of Daguerrotyping. The art of Daguerrotype consists in copying the image of external, objects upon a plate of silvered copper, by the agency of light; and its discovery is due to two skillful French chemists, M. Daguerre and M. Niepee, who were liberally rewarded by the French Government, and has since been much improved by M. Figeau and other modern chemists. It is probably one of the most beautiful discoveries in modern science that has ever been made, and it has been brought to such high perfection, that pictures are obtained in the very short space of half a second, and thus very transient objects are represented.

But this, like almost every thing else, has its imperfections, and its principal imperfection is owing to the fact that the colors of external objects are scarce. ly ever produced upon the silver plate in their natural state; thus an object of a green color is scarcely at all defined, whilst objects of a blue color are intensely defined. The colors of red and orange are also very feeble in their effects; and thus to produce a good picture, objects should be selected from which the colors of red and orange are absent; it would, therefore, hardly answer for tak ing landscapes in their natural colors, and when color is wanted upon a picture, it must be produced artificially by pencil and brush.

The principal agents used in this art, at the present day, are as follows:

Bromine Water; Bromide of Iodine; Chloride of Bromine; Chloride of Iodine; Pure Mercury; Hyposulphate of Soda; and Chloride of Gold.

As it is easily perceived that Iodine is the basis of almost all the sensitive solutions, it may not be out of place to give a brief description of it.

Iodine is a simple non-metallic substance, extracted from the ashes of ma rine plants of a bluish black color, discovered at Paris, in 1812; its density i nearly 5; it fuses at 225 degs., and boils at 350; it unites with oxygen in three proportions, forming acids, which form salts; it also combines with all the metals, and almost all of the non-metallic bodies; it combines with Chlorine and Bromine, to form the solutions indicated by their names above, which are the solutions in general use.

The outline of the process by which

images are fixed upon the plate is as follows: The silver is first carefully cleansed and polished, by means of French Tripoli and Nitric Acid, and is finished by rubbing with a mixture of Lampblack and fine Rouge: it is then immediately buffed, to remove all particles of fine dust.

The next operation consists in exposing the plate polished as above, for a short space of time (which is variable). to the vapors of either of the very sensitive solutions given above: this is done by placing the plate in a box, in which is a small portion of the sensitive solution. This operation should be performed in the dark.

The next operation consists in exposing this plate, prepared as in the preceding operation, to the influence of light in a Camera; the time which a plate should be exposed to the action of light in the Camera is variable, owing to various causes, as clearness of the atmosphere, color of the object, and the sensitive solution employed. After it has been exposed to the action of the light a sufficient time, it is removed: if now it be examined, it will be found there is no picture formed upon the plate: it is latent, and the operation of making this picture visible, we will now describe.

The plate, after it is taken out of the Camera, is exposed, in a box, to the action of the vapors of pure Mercury, heated by a spirit lamp to 170 degs.; it should never be heated above this, and after it has been exposed sufficiently to bring out the picture, it should then be fixed so that the light can no longer act upon it. This part will form the next process.

This operation consists in washing the picture, after it has been rendered visi ble, with Hypo-sulphate of Soda and distilled water, and is dried by heating the plate underneath by a spirit lamp, and gradually blowing it until every drop has disappeared. In this operation it is es sential that the water be absolutely pure, for, if it is not, when it evaporates it will leave spots upon the surface of the plate, and thus destroy its beauty. Thus we come to the next and last operation.

This consists in covering the picture, as just formed by the preceding operation, with a film or thin coating of gold: the only apparatus required is a spirit lamp and stand. Wet the surface of the

plate standing in a horizontal position with Alcohol, then pour on as much of the Chloride of Gold as will remain upon the plate, (the Alcohol is only used for the equal distribution of the Chloride of Gold upon the surface of the plate;) after this, heat is to be applied to the under surface of the plate, and as uniformly as possible, until the picture is visibly improved; it is then washed in distilled water, and dried as before.-Sat. Cour.

Incident of a Canadian Winter.

In the middle of the great St. Lawrence there is, nearly opposite Montreal, an island called St. Helen's, between which and the shore the stream, about three quarters of a mile broad, runs with great rapidity, and yet, notwithstanding this current, the intense cold of winter invariably freezes its surface. The winter I am speaking of was unusually severe, and the ice on the St. Lawrence particularly thick; however, while the river beneath was rushing towards the sea, the ice was waiting in abeyance in the middle of the stream until the narrow fastness between Montreal and St. Helen's should burst and allow the whole mass to break into pieces, and then in stupendous confusion to hurry down towards Quebec.-On St. Helen's there was quartered a small detachment of troops, and while the breaking up of the ice was momentarily expected, many of the soldiers, muffled in their great coats, with thick storm-gloves on their hands, and with a piece of fur attached to their caps to protect their ears from being frozen, were on the ice employed in attending to the road across it to Montreal.

After a short suspense which increased rather than allayed their excitement, a deep thundering noise announced to them that the process I have described had commenced. The ice before them writhed, heaved up, burst, broke into fragments, and the whole mass, excepting a small portion, which, remaining riveted to the shore of St. Helen's, formed an artificial pier with deep water beneath it, gradually moved downwards. Just at this moment, a little girl, the daughter of an artilleryman on the island, was seen on the ice in the middle of the river, in an attitude of agony and alarm. Imprudently and unsoberly, she had attempted to cross over to Montreal, and

was hardly half way when the ice, both above, below her, and in all directions, gave way. The child's fate seemed inevitable, and it was exciting various sensations in the minds, and various exclamations from the mouths of the soldiers, when something within the breast of Thomas Neil, a young Sergeant in the 24th Regiment, uttered to him the monosyllables, "Quick-march !" and in obedience thereto, fixing his eyes on the child as on a parade bandarole, he steadil proceeded towards her. Sometimes before him, sometimes just behind him, and sometimes on either side, an immense piece of ice would pause, rear up on end, and roll over, so as occasionally to hide him altogether from view.

Sometimes he was seen jumping from a piece that was beginning to rise, and then, like a white bear, carefully clambering down a piece that was beginning to sink; however, onwards he proceeded, until reaching the little island of ice on which the poor child stood, with the feelings of calm triumph with which he would have surmounted a breach, he firmly grasped her by the hand. By this time, he had been floated down the river nearly out of sight of his comrades. However, some of them ran to their barracks for spy-glasses, distinctly beheld him about two miles below them, sometimes leading the child in his hand, sometimes carrying her in his arms, sometimes "halting," sometimes running "double quick;" and in this dangerous. predicament he continued for six miles, until after passing Longueil, he was given up by his comrades as lost. He remained with the little girl floating down the middle of the river for a considerable time; at last, towards evening, they were discovered by some French Canadians, who, at no small risk, humanely pushed off in a canoe to their assistance, and thus rescued them both from their perilous situation. The Canadians took them to their home; and in due time, they returned to St. Helen's. The child was happily restored to its parents, and Sergeant Neil quietly returned to his barracks.-Head's Emigrant.

The entire cost of 101 miles of railroad, to be laid between Vidalia and Bayou Cotile, La., which road will form a portion of the Great Southern Railroad, will be $857,250, or $8,477 per mile.