The flowers composing these bouquets, will keep for at least a fortnight 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_.)