NEW AND RARE PLANTS. ascertained. The leaves are produced thickly to ACACIA RICEANA, Henslow-(Leguminacæa-gether on the branches, as in Heaths, but are Paxt. Fl. Gard.)-A tall, drooping bush, with long spikes of pale yellow flowers, named after the Right Hon. T. Spring Rice (now Lord Monteagle), and discovered by Mr. R. Gunn, near Hobart Town, Van Diemen's Land. It is stated to grow, in its native country, from six to ten feet high; but it has been grown in the large conservatory of the Horticultural Society's garden upwards of twenty feet high. It quaternate, decurrent, oblong, or ovate, dark green, forms a very elegant bush, having numerous weeping branches, which in spring are loaded with clusters of its yellow flowers, and is considered one of the most handsome of the whole genus to which it belongs. The leaves or phyllodes grow in clusters, and are linear, deep green. The flowers grow singly, in long, loose spikes. (Syn., A. setigera-Hook.) It is distinguished from A. junipera by that species having its flowers in solitary spherical heads, not in long, loose spikes, as in the subject of our present notice. FITZ-ROYA PATAGONICA, Hook. Pinaceæ (Bot. Mag.)—A choice and beautiful cone-bearing evergreen tree, the full size of which has not been ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. NOTICE TO CONTRIBUTORS. - The Editor | begs it to be understood, that she can in no case undertake to return rejected MSS., or forward parts of the Magazine, unless sufficient stamps are sent to cover the expense of postage, &c. Correspondents are requested to keep copies of all short articles. All communications requiring private answers must contain a stamped envelope and address. All Publications, &c., intended for review, must be sent in before the 10th of the month. Correspondents not answered by post, will please to refer to this page for replies to their various inquiries. B. C. L.-" Belper," and "Candida," are informed that the affair does not rest with the Editor. The error, as they will perceive, is retrieved in the present part, and is not likely to occur again. R. S.-Can our obliging correspondent show any just cause or impediment why the two short lines, irregular in rhythm, and unnecessary to the sense, should not be divorced from the poem last sent us? of Pleasure." We regret that this poem is not sufPOETRY declined, with thanks.-"The Pursuit ficiently finished for our pages. The writer evinces talent, which she must assiduously cultivate by carefully studying the best authors. PROSE declined, with thanks.-" A Memory." With time, study, and perseverance, the author may achieve much. The present sketch is too crude and unartistic for publication. Printed by Rogerson and Tuxford, 246, Strand, London. MONTHLY BELLE ASSEMBLÉE, INCORPORATED WITH THE LADIES' COMPANION. JUNE, 1855. THE STORY OF AN OLDEN PLAY. CHAP. III. BY SILVERPEN. (Continued from page 232.) The fashionable hour for dining with the men upon town" of the first half of the eighteenth century was two o'clock. The dinner was usually taken at a tavern; and as moderation was by no means considered a virtue in those days, few of such as thus dined were left sober by the hour of six. The fashionable gallant of this period was, in his frippery, his effeminacy, his love of finery, an anomaly almost past our modern comprehension. His back was worth more than his body; his breeding as well as learning were both had in the academy of compliments. In dressing his only industry was shown-four hours each morning being the time commonly devoted to the toilet. The popinjay's genius was in his suits; his generosity in his tailors' bills. When he was dressed, the business of the day was overwhen he was undressed he was invisible. His clothes were all that was ever seen of him; and when he died, they were his only valuable remains, to be hung up as trophies in Monmouth street. About the same time as the ballad-girl and Johnny Bobkin took their way to Lincoln's Inn, there issued from The Smyrna one of these noonday revellers, who bowing languidly to such friends of the feast as were crowded round the door, glanced at his watch, and entering a chair which waited, bid the men bear him quickly on to Bow-street. This street, then dedicated neither to trade nor justice, was a fashionable quarter of the town. The footmen, the sedan chairs, the hackney coaches, the private chariots, the ceaseless noise of knockers, were some of the signs of its aristocratic character. The chair of the diner at The Smyrna had scarcely entered the street, when it was stopped by a man who had been watching for it for a considerable period under an adjacent doorway. The hall is full of duns to-night, Sir John," he whispered," and there are three servers of writs amongst them-one disguised as an old woman; one as a parson; a third as a quack doctor. There is no getting in, the front way: it must be by a window, or the back-door-the first best, as there may be spies about." Acting upon this information, the young man dismissed the chair, and following his valet, Pounce, down an adjacent court, soon gained private ingress to his dwelling, by means of an obscure window in the rear. Then ascending a back staircase, he reached a luxurious room, where his valet robed him in a loose gown, drew his settee to the fire, placed his chocolate before him, and handed him a newspaper, about the size of a child's pocket-handkerchief. Disregarding this last, Sir John Ogilvy sipped his chocolate, stretched himself luxuriously on his couch; and then seeing that Pounce still remained, he somewhat querulously demanded why the duns had not, as usual, been got rid of. "There hath been no means, Sir John," replied the sinister-looking valet, as he affected, with immense care, to fold his master's bedizened coat; "persuasions and promises hath been laughed at. There's the man for the price of the Ranelagh tickets; the sempstress from Fleet-street about the ruffles; Tow, the wigmaker, for your three last wigs; the chariotmaker, and four tailors; and more saucy than the rest, is Tendril, the goldsmith's headapprentice-he saith his master must have his money without delay." "The dog!" muttered Ogilvy, with vicious bitterness, shall wait till doomsday; I owe him a grudge that shall be paid. The rest must wait till " "Till Sir John's married," suggested the sinister valet." I've seen Miss Trapple to-day, Sir John, and she's very anxious, very willing, to lay down all her father's money-bags to become my lady."" "But she's ugly, deformed, and sixty," laughed the rake, as he shrugged his shoulders. "She may bribe you, Pounce, in the hope of catching your master; but it won't do, not whilst there are ministerial bribes to be had for very little work. So say no more about her, Pounce, unless the necessity be greater." The valet smiled in his dark sinister way; but it was not seen, for Sir John took up his paid the price of his twenty years' service; the other to consummate, by treachery and fraud, his deadly hatred against Ruthven. "Doth all this bitterness you express, Sir John, arise from the squabble in St. James's Mall three months' ago?" asked Amhurst, when they had talked awhile. "Did the mere rescue of the goldsmith's goddaughter cause an aversion such as this? It surely cannot, Sir John. I am accustomed to read men's motives, and judge thereon." The young man coloured, hesitated, and dropped his eyes beneath the other's searching gaze. Indeed, his tremor became so excessive, that he rose, and made a vain attempt to hide it. Y-e-s-yes," he at length answered. "Most hate between man and man hath its cause in woman." The editor of the "Craftsman" shook his head. The doubt thus implied roused the other's anger, and he said insolently, "It is not much I ask. Mr. Amhurst can please himself as to performance." Ogilvy's manner, seemed expected. It was a man rather carelessly than shabbily dressed. His face, once handsome and yet intellectual, was haggard and careworn, though his age could not be more than thirty-three. His hair was already partly grey; and the wild fire that at times lighted up his eyes seemed the effect of disease or insanity. It was Nicholas Amhurst, the celebrated political writer of the "Craftsman," the most popular newspaper of that mushroom tribe, which from the days of Anne to the end of the reign of the second George, sprung up and lived their day, according to the success of the party or faction they advocated. Expelled from Oxford, this germ of a Tory University grew suddenly into a revolutionary Whig; this pupil of a reverend doctor became at once a hater of all churchmen; and he who had little morality himself assumed to be a teacher of mankind. From this time-open to any bribe or any bidder-this man of real talent became, under the leadership, and assisted by the talents of Bolingbroke and Pulteney, the fierce opponent of the Walpole administrationadvocating reform, not because it was a prin- Much," reiterated Amhurst, dwelling on ciple with those who paid him, or that they had the first rather than hearing the latter wordsa whit more patriotism than other men. Am-"not much, is it, to draw a man into a frank hurst had toiled for twenty years with hireling pen, merely to show the town the difference between what was and what might be done. This effort had not been without its intended effect in raising the indignation of the people, and controlling the power of the Walpole administration. This very man could write like Miss Fogg upon the "Liberty of the Press," against "Bribery in forthcoming Elections," upon the Representation of a Free People;" and could advocate Triennial Parliaments, though one of his hirers was both a Jacobite and a Tory. Yet the Administration was not a tittle more virtuous than the Opposition; the latter was only more fortunate than the former in having cleverer hirelings, of whom Amhurst was one-a crew who did not live merely on the pay of the day, but on the greedy promises of the morrow. 66 confession of his opinions, and betray him afterwards? Not much to print that which he hath written in the belief of your confidence, and reward it by a messenger and a warrant? Not much to be a Judas, eh?" "I had not yet stated particulars," drawled Ogilvy, affecting to treat the point with nonchalance; "I merely state again what I did yesterday. The power of the Craftsman' is dead, like the man it opposed. You haven't made the harvest you thought to make; and as Pulteney can do without you, I merely offer the best equivalent. According to thy own showing, thou intendest to turn from the principles and men thou hast upheld for the last twenty years, and oppose the government thou built up. To this end thou intendest to start a journal called the Scorpion,' if my memory serve; Amhurst was now reaping the fruit of his and all I asked thee, was to allure this covenanttwenty years' toil-DISAPPOINTMENT. He ing Scot to write therein, and with his own pen had been successful in writing down Walpole, weave a net to catch himself; whilst you, in the but his reward had not come. For though meantime safe, would be paid well for the work Pulteney was created a marquis, Bolingbroke done. One thing recollect-I saved you from a had left the kingdom, and between them the jail two days ago; and your very readiness to man who had served their interests was for- become a fellow-lodger with this man, was at gotten and starving. Yet in the very abject- least a guarantee to me that thou would'st acness of his misery, the moral and better nature cept of what I offered. The world wouldn't of the man outshone. give Mr. Amhurst credit for such delicate and suddenly acquired honour. I'm surprised, certainly." Thus saying, Sir John rapped his jewelled snuff-box, and took a leisurely pinch of snuff. The This Sir John Ogilvy, the gay popinjay who now lay stretched so luxuriously on his couch, had become known to the editor of the "Craftsman," through the circumstance of their occasionally meeting at various coffee-houses. acquaintanceship thus commenced had ripened into intimacy, for the one was a distant relation of Pulteney, the other his workman; and this had brought them together at the office of the minister. On the present occasion, this intimacy had an added motive on either side; for the one hoped, through Ogilvy's interest, to get Amhurst's words were slow to come; but when they did they were full of effect. "If I've been a tool, a hireling, and clay in others' hands, there hath been excuse in my necessity. And if, as thou saith, my fame is infamous, it hath been so on a broad principle, and not borne reference to men individually. And though an author by profession, I have at |
