as fresh and beautiful as when first gathered, and are capable of bearing long journeys, for they are constantly forwarded in boxes made expressly for them, to Turin, which is about a hundred miles from Genoa, where they arrive fresh and uninjured.  An English nobleman indeed, not long since, having a quick conveyance, dispatched a Genoese bouquet to his family in England, who received it in its pristine beauty.  Besides being presented by lovers to their affianced brides, they are the gifts of friend to friend on most festive occasions, such as weddings, christenings, birthdays, Saint’s days, and holidays; and always upon New Year’s day, which is as great an occasion for the transfer of gifts in Italy, as it is in France.  The freshness and beauty of these bouquets, of which several were sent to me during my residence in Genoa, are to be thus preserved:  at night put your flowers into a glass or vase, without water, since the stalks bound together in the manner described have lost the power of suction and could not be benefitted by it; then, lightly sprinkle, or water (with a watering-pot, the rose of which is finely bored,) the flowery head of the bouquet, and carefully cover it with a fine, light handkerchief, also moistened.  This attention paid every night will preserve these beautiful nosegays, fresh and fair for many weeks.

M.L.B.

* * * * *

THE NAUTILUS.

WRITTEN FOR MUSIC.

(For the Mirror.)

  Hark! ’tis the song of the sailor shell,
    Sweet on the breezes swelling: 
  Rearing its arms to the breathing gale,
    Over the billows sailing. 
      Calm is the eve,
      The wavelets heave
    Their crests to the setting sun,
      Glitter awhile
      In his golden smile,
    And their brilliant course is run. 
  Hasten, my brothers, our boat along,
    Off to our sea side dwelling: 
  Haste; while the Nautilus’ evening song
    Sweet on the breeze is swelling.

  Up with the sail! for the earliest boat
    Lies ’neath the world of waters
  Ceased is the wild harmonious note
    That melody’s soul first taught us.[2]
        Over the sea
        The wind blows free,
      The spray in the air is hurl’d: 
        Clouds in the wave
        Their bosoms lave;
      Then quick be our sail unfurl’d,
  Haste ye, my brothers, ere night comes on,
    Over the world of waters: 
  Sing to high heaven, the mellow song
    The Nautilus’ note first taught us.

W. PEARCE.

    [2] The Nautilus, or Sailor-shell, is said to be the origin of
    Music and Navigation.

* * * * *

PARAPHRASE ON BISHOP HEBER’S PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE.

(For the Mirror.)