About three miles above Peekskill, and prominent among the jutting promontories that slope up from the water along the ten miles to West Point, stands one, if not more prominent, more noted than any of its green-wooded fellows, from the fact, that from some fancied resemblance, in rock or wooded outline, to the prominent features of that old saint's face, it was named by the early navigators of this rock-bound river, "St. Anthony's Nose." By that name the navigators of the Hudson still know it; and transient passengers, by water, who have read its early Knickerbocker history, still ask to have it pointed out; but the passengers along the rails, although anxious to catch a view of so prominent a historical object, are denied the opportunity; for the Hudson River Railroad company have bored through the very gristle of his saintship's nose, and at the very time passengers might desire to look upon its outlines, they are shut up with darkness in the rocky, tunnelled chambers through the nostrils.

Directly under the shadow of St. Anthony's Nose, over against the opposite shore, lies an island, long known by a corruption of the former owner's name, but now, just beginning to be recognized by its new appellation of Iona. This name was given to it by the present proprietor, or rather by his father-in-law, Mr. Bevridge, in memory of a Scottish island of that name, the seat of active missionary labors to the neglected inhabitants of the adjoining mountains. And this name was also applied, because it was his intention, besides making this a health-restoring residence, to try to extend from it some religious and educational advantages to a very isolated mountain population, in the upper corner of Rockland County, which is as destitute of such advantages as ever were the Highlanders in the vicinity of the Scottish Iona.

"What is this Iona, and what do all these singular buildings mean?" That question we intend to answer, and with it not only gratify curiosity, but at the same time incidentally give the reader some as valuable information as we have ever penned; for we shall tell them how to produce two or three kinds of the richest fruits grown in this country, upon as unforbid-ding a soil as any of them happen to possess. And we shall tell them, too, of the vastest propagating houses ever erected in this or any other country, for the sole purpose of growing grape-vine plants under glass, as a regular nursery business. We think we shall astonish some old hands at the business, as well as surprise that class of people who have no conception of the power of man, working with science - that is, with reason and common sense, aided by experience - to multiply valuable plants to meet a sudden, pressing demand.

But first, of Iona. It is an island of 300 acres, about two and a half miles from Peekskill, about half of which, next the mainland, is a partially salt marsh; the rest is rocky. On the side next the mainland is a narrow creek dividing it from the shore. Prom this point is a very circuitous mountain path, scarcely ever travelled, but over which a team may be driven out into a civilized region. The way of approach, however, for all visitors, is by row-boat.

The upland of the island is, more than two-thirds of it, a rocky woodland, thinly covered with cedars of that peculiar form often noticed in this region, and never seen, so far as we can learn, in any other. They are not only singular, but singularly beautiful, the limbs of both large and small trees forming perfect symmetrical cones, sometimes not over four or five feet in diameter, in trees forty feet in height.

The arable portion of the island consists of about forty acres, elevated, at its highest point, perhaps forty feet above the water. The soil is composed principally of drift, which embraces in its composition almost as great a proportion of pebbles as any old field gravelly knoll in the State.

Ten years ago it certainly was a very unpromising spot for a fine vineyard and extensive pear orchard. It was owned by a man whose greatest wealth, besides the land, consisted in eighteen sons and daughters; but their father did not know how to apply these hands to develop the richness of his lands, and his chief profit came from the crop of natural marsh hay. This and the scanty crops of the poor old fields were insufficient to support the family, and they eked out a living by fishing. We shall see presently what the present crop is; and how many the island now supports, without either the leisure or need for fishing.

This island was purchased about ten years ago, for $10,000, by Doctor C. W. Grant and Mr. Bevridge, his father-in-law, of New burgh, with the intention of devoting it to the culture of grapes and pears for the New York market. Mr. Bevridge at once took possession, and the Doctor devoted to it all the time he could spare from his professional practice; but it is only about six years since he took hold in earnest to see what could be made of this naturally hard-featured spot.

Although the soil would appear to a person who lived on a rich prairie, a coarse gravelly mass, it is really in a high state of fertility, and perfect disintegration, two or three feet deep. But a small portion needed draining; the deep trenching was sufficient; but all needed high manuring, before it could be expected to grow such vines as only will produce fine grapes, or [such trees as can alone be depended upon for high-priced pears.

At first manorial substances of various kinds were imported, but enough to suit the Doctor's notions could not be had that way.

The marshy part of the island, upon examination, was found to be composed of silt, much of which had been deposited since the hill-sides of the upper part of the river have been annually washed of their richness, loosened by cultivation, upon which a great mass of vegetable growth has accumulated. Here, then, was the great reservoir out of which to draw fertility for the upland; a reservoir so great that it is inexhaustible by any ordinary amount of human labor. It is better than a mine of iron ore, for which a near-by pile of rocks has long held a high value. Yet rich as this mine is, " surface diggings," too, at that, the former owner, in all the time that he had lived here while his eighteen children were growing up around him, had never discovered its great value, though he sadly needed something to make his gravelly upland more productive.