*Two acquaintances at ours, in a house in the upper part of New-York, are regularly driven out by the Ailanthus malaria every season.

Oh, that our tree- planters, and they are an amy of hundreds of thousands in this country - ever increasing with the growth of good taste - oh! that they knew and could understand the surpassing beauty of our native shade trees. More than forty species of Oak are there in North America, (Great Britain has only two species - France only five,) and we are richer in Maples, Bins, and Ashes, than any country in the old world. Tulip trees and Magnolias from America, are the exotic glories of the princely grounds of Europe. But, (saving always the praiseworthy partiality in New-England, for our Elms and Maples,) who plants an American tree - in America? And who, on the contrary, that has planted shade trees at all in the United States, for the last fifteen years, has not planted either Ailanthuses or Abele Poplars? We should like to see that discreet, sagacious individual, who has escaped the national extasy for foreign suckers. If he can be found, he is more deserving a gold medal from our horticultural societies, than the grower of the most mammoth pumpkin, or elephantine beet that will garnish the cornucopia of Pomona for 1852.

In this confession of our sins of commission in planting filthy suckers, and omission in not planting clean natives - we must lay part of the burden at the door of the nur-serymen. (It has been found a convenient practice - this shifting the responsibility - ever since the first trouble about trees in the garden of Eden).

" Well! then, if the nurserymen will raise Ailanthus and Abeles by the thousands, (reply the planting community,) and telling us nothing about pestilential odors and suckers, tell us a great deal about ' rapid growth, immediate effect - beauty of foliage - rare foreign trees,' and the like, it is not surprising that we plant what turn out, after twenty years trial, to be nuisances instead of embellishments. It is the business of the nurseryman to supply planters with the best trees. If they supply us with the worst, who sins the most, the buyer or the seller of such stuff? "

Softly, good friends. It is the business of nurserymen to make a profit by raising trees. If you will pay just as much for a poor tree, that can be raised in two years from a sucker, as a valuable tree that requires four or five years, do you wonder that the nurserymen will raise and sell you Ailanthuses instead of Oaks. It is the business (duty, at least) of the planter, to know what he is about to plant, and though there are many honest traders, it is a good maxim that the Turks have, "ask no one in the bazaar to praise his own goods." To the eyes of the nurserymen a crop of Ailanthuses and Abeles is " a pasture in the valley of sweet waters." But go to an old homestead, where they have become naturalized, and you will find that there is a bitter aftertaste about the experience of the unfortunate possessor of these sylvan treasures of a far off country.*

*We may as well add for the benefit of the novice, the advice to shun all trees that are universally propagated by suckers. It is a worse inheritance for a tree than drunkenness for a child, and more difficult to eradicate. Even Ailan-ihueea and Poplars from seed have tolerably respectable habits as regards radical things.

The planting intelligence must therefore increase if we would fill our grounds and shade our streets with really valuable, ornamental trees. The nurserymen will naturally raise what is in demand, and if but ten customers offer in five years for the Overcup Oak, while fifty come, of a day, for the Ailanthus - the latter will be cultivated as a matter of course.

The question immediately arises, what shall we use instead of the condemned trees? What especially shall we use in the streets of cities! Many - nay the majority of shade trees - clean and beautiful in the country - are so infested with worms and insects in towns as to be worse than useless. The Sycamore has failed, the Linden is devoured, the Elm is preyed upon by insects. We have rushed into the arms of the Tartar, partly out of fright, to escape the armies of caterpillars and cankerworms that have taken possession of better trees!

Take refuge, friends, in the American Maples. Clean, sweet, cool, and umbrageous, are the Maples; and, muoh vaunted as Ailanthuses and Poplars are, for their lightning growth, take our word for it that it is only a good go off at the start. A Maple at twenty years - or even at ten, if the soil is favorable, will be much the finer and larger tree. No tree transplants more readily - none adapts itself more easily to the soil, than the Maple. For light soils, and the milder parts of the Union, say the middle and western states, the Silver Maple, with drooping branches, is at once the best and the most graceful of street trees. For the north and east, the Soft Maple and the Sugar Maple. If any one wishes to know the glory and beauty of the Sugar Maple as a street tree, let him make a pilgrimage to Stockbridge, in Massachusetts ! If. he desires to study the Silver Maple, there is no better school than Burlington, N. J. These are two towns almost wholly planted with these American trees - the sylvan adornings of wihch any " native" may well be proud.

The inhabitants neither have to abandon their front rooms from " the smell," nor lose the use of their back yards by " the suckers." And whoever plants either of these three maples, may feel sure that he is earning the thanks instead of the reproaches of posterity.

The most beautiful and stately of all trees for an avenue - and especially for an avenue street in town - is an American tree that one rarely sees planted in America* - never, that we remember, in any public street. We mean the Tulip Tret, or Lirio-dendron. What can be more beautiful than its trunk - finely proportioned, and smooth as as Grecian column? What more artistic than its leaf, cut like an arabesque in a Moorish palace - what more clean and lustrous than its tufts of foliage - dark green, and rich as deepest emerald? What more lily-like and specious than its blossoms - golden and bronze shaded? and what fairer and more queenly than its whole figure, stately and regal as that of Zenobia? For a park tree, to spread on every-side, it is unrivalled, growing a hundred and thirty feet high, and spreading into the finest symmetry of outline†. For a street tree, its columnar stem, beautiful either with or without branches - with a low head or a high head - foliage over the second story or under it - is precisely what is most needed. A very spreading tree, like the Elm, is always somewhat out of place in town, because its natural habit is to extend itself laterally.