Enjoying recently the hospitality of Mr. Woodward, at Newburgh, we took occasion to examine a few of the vineyards for which Newburgh will soon become famous. Our time being very limited, we made the best use we could of it, Mr. Woodward has about two acres in vines, comprising the leading varieties, and all the new ones he could get. We have already published the results of the winter with him. Isabellas and Catawbas will give place to Delaware, Concord, and such other early ripening kinds as are better adapted to the climate of Newburgh. Mr. Woodward's vineyard is well located, and has had the advantage of good preparation. The growth is healthy and strong; and as Mr. Woodward reads the Horticulturist, we shall expect to hear a good report of these vines when they come into bearing. He has also a new grapery, in which every thing is going on in a most satisfactory manner, except that he neglects to use his thumb nail as promptly as he should. We suspect that will not be the case hereafter. We also saw here the Woodward grape, of which we shall speak hereafter. Putting up a fleet span of horses, Mr. Wood ward's son drove us about to look at some other vineyards. The first was Mr. Cornell's, which covers about five acres.

The vines are of full bearing age, but seem to have suffered much during the past winter. Mr. C, we believe, purposes working over his Isabellas and Catawbas. Mr. Cornell not being visible, our observations were made from the road-side, a vineyard being a place upon which even an old acquaintance should not trespass without the knowledge of the owner; in addition, we were afraid he would detain us too long if he saw us. The next vineyard we saw was Mr. Brown's. This is young, and planted with good kinds. With suitable culture and a good system of training this vineyard will in time produce good fruit. The next one belonged to a person whose name we forget We were grieved to see that he has formed the opinion that grapes may be grown without culture, the whole being choked with grass and weeds. Let him at some leisure moment compare his vines with Mr. Woodward's, Mr. Mace's, or any others that are cultivated, and he can not fail to see that he is making a very great mistake. There can be no greater absurdity than laying a vineyard down to grass, and those who are doing so will fiid that they are squandering their wealth.

After a glance at two or three other small places, all young, we stopped, in the dusk of evening, at Captain Morton's, whose home is the old head-quarters of General Knox. The captain very politely showed us through the house, explaining every thing of historical interest, and told us how a grand ball was given there, attended by General Washington and his staff, besides all the belles of the place: all the girls seem to have been belles in those days, and some of them have left their names scratched on the windows to this day. A look at the old mill, granary, etc, in the dusky twilight completed our visit, and we drove back to Mr. Woodward's to enjoy a hearty supper, and after that some good music. The next morning, thanking our kind friends for. their polite attentions, we started, in company with Mr. Woodward and his son, for our good old friend, Mr. Downing's, who, and his wife, are among the kindest people we know. We never visit Mr. D. without finding our horticultural enjoyment full and complete; he has always something new to show and-something fresh to tell.

Having heard that Benj. H. Mace, Esq., had begun the formation of a Delaware vineyard, we made a brief call to see him, and were highly gratified with what we saw. Mr. Mace's situation is an elevated slope, facing a little south of east, but well protected on the north and west. The soil was thoroughly prepared. The vines are planted four feet apart in the rows, the last being six feet apart. Mr. Mace took occasion to say, that though a portion of his vineyard was prepared and planted before he saw our grape articles, he could not have followed our suggestions more precisely if he had had those articles before him from the beginning. While we felt complimented, we could not help thinking him a very sensible man. The vines are from one to four years old, and are in all respects in the very best condition, showing great vigor and health. The wood, in size, compared favorably with the Diana. The fruit surpassed any thing we have yet seen of the Delaware, the vines being literally loaded down. A great many bunches will weigh fully half a pound, and some more when ripe. The berries will come nearly up to the size of the Diana. This is the best beginning of a vineyard that we have yet seen. We expect to see it again in the fall, and speak of its matured results.

We stopped to take another look into Mr. Downing's horticultural ark, where two of a kind are gathered together, that nothing be lost What we saw here, new and old, could not be described in a volume. We next called on Mrs. Fay, widow of the well-known naturalist She has a very beautiful and well-kept place. Our time was limited to a very few moments, and those we gave mostly to the vines. The vineyard is quite small, and planted chiefly with the Delaware. The other kinds had been badly winter killed, as was the case also every where else. We saw some very fine fruit on the Delawares, but the gardener does not seem to have fixed upon any system of training, and the vines are making too much wood by half. The size of the canes on the oldest of these vines would satisfy, we think, the most unreasonable stickler for big wood. Thanking the ladies for their company, we next called upon our friend Mr. Skeele, who has an interesting little vineyard, planted with vines of various kinds. The whole vineyard is prepared like the border of a grapery, and the growth of wood is almost fabulous; in fact, the thing is overdone.

To Mr. Skeele it is a source of inexhaustible gratification, and he is working out valuable results: we suspect, however, more for others than himself Mr. Skeele's best show of fruit is on the Delaware and Union Village. We saw one bunch of Delaware with some of the berries as large as the Concord. With a mere glance at Mr. Skeele's fine lawn and beautiful shrubbery, we hurried on our way to the city, stopping for a moment at A. J. Downing's old place. It was a mere run over the boundary walk, dodging in here and there among the fine shrubbery, a peep into the well-kept grapery, a sharp glance at some very fine Delaware, Rebecca, and Concord vines in the garden, an upward look at some grand specimen tree, a rapid survey of the broad and beautiful lawn, a sidelong glance at the unique conservatory, interspersed all along with approving exclamations, chorused with Mr. Downing's "Come, you'll be too late;" then through the gate, into the carriage, and down to the boat just in time not to be left.

Parting here with Mr. Downing and Mr. Woodward, we went on our way to the city.