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This flower was in the highest repute during the reign of Mahomet IV. His grand vizer Cara Mustapha, well known for his hatred against the Christians, and the siege of Vienna, in 1683, wishing to turn the sultan's thoughts to some milder amusement than that of the chase, for which he had a strong passion, diverted his attention to flowers; and as he remarked that the emperor preferred the ranunculus to all others, he wrote to the different pashas throughout the whole empire to send him roots of the most beautiful kinds. The pashas of Candia, Cyprus, Aleppo, and Rhodes, paid most regard to this request, and the elegant flowers which they transmitted to court were shut up in the seraglio, as offerings to the voluptuousness of the sultan; till some of them, by means of money, were at length freed from their imprisonment. The ambassadors from the European courts made it their business to procure roots of as many different kinds as they could, which they sent to their respective sovereigns.

On the POTATOE, and the Time when that useful Plant was first introduced into the British Islands. (From a Communication by Sir Joseph Banks, published in the Transactions of the HortiCultural Society.)

SIR Joseph Banks states that the account of the circumstances relative to the time of the introduction of the potatoe plant, which he relates, was chiefly extracted from notes collected on the subject by his learned friend, Mr. Dryander.

The potatoe now in use (the solanum tuberosum), was brought into England by the colonists sent out by sir Walter Raleigh, under queen Elizabeth's patent. Mr. Thomas

Heriot, a mathematician, was on board the first fleet which returned to England on the twenty-seventh of July 1586, when the potatoe was probably first brought over; for Mr. Heriot, in an account which he pub lished of the nature and properties of the soil of the country examined, which is printed in De Bry's Collection of Voyages, vol. I. under the article roots, describes the potatoe by the name openawk (by which they were called in Virginia), as

round roots, some as large as walnuts, and others much larger, which grew in damp soil, many hanging together as if fixed ropes; which are good food either boiled or roasted.'

Gerard, in his Herbal, published 1597, gives a figure of the potatoe, under the name of potatoe of Virginia,

In the manuscript minutes of the Royal Society, December thirteenth, 1693, sir Robert Southwell, then president, informed the fellows, that his grandfather brought potatoes-into Ireland, who first bad them from. sir Walter Raleigh. From which it appears, that this root, shortly after its arrival in England, must have been sent to Ireland by sir Robert Southwell's ancestor, where it was cultivated as food long before its value was known in England; for Gerard, in 1597, recommends the roots as a delicate dish, not as a common food.

The potatoe, however, came into Europe at an earlier period by another channel. Clusius, who resided at Vienna at that time, receiv◄ ed this root, in 1598, from the governor of Mons, in Hainault, who had it the year before from one of the attendants of the pope's legate, under the name of Taratonfli, and learned from him that in Italy, where it was then in use, no one certainly knew whether it came from Spain or from America.

Peter Ceica, in his chronicle, printed in 1553, mentions, in the tenth chapter, that the inhabitants of Quito used for food, besides mays, a tuberous root which they called papas, and this Clusius supposes to be the plant he received from Flanders; which conjecture is confirmed by the accounts of other travellers. From these details it appears probable, that potatoes were first brought into Europe from the mountainous parts of Quito; and as the Spaniards were sole possessors of that country, there can be little doubt that they were first brought to Spain; but as it would take some time to bring them into use in that country, and afterwards to make the Italians so well acquainted with them as to give them a name, there is every reason to believe they had been se veral years in Europe before they had been sent to Clusius.

In South America the root is called papas, and in Virginia openawk. The name of potatoe was therefore evidently applied to it here from its similarity to the battatu, or white potatoe; and was distinguished by the appellative of Virginia potatoe till the year 1640, if not longer.

Some authors have asserted that sir Francis Drake first discovered potatoes in the South Seas, and others that they were introduced into England by sir John Hawkins; but in both instances the plant alluded to is evidently the sweet potatoe, which was used in England as a de licacy long before the introduction of our potatoes. The sweet pota toe was imported in considerable quantities from Spain and the Canaries, and was supposed to possess the power of restoring decayed vigour. The kissing comfits which Shak speare mentions in the Merry Wives of Windsor, and other confections of similar imaginary qualities, with

which our ancestors were duped, were principally made of these and eringo roots.

The sweet potatoes themselves were sold by itinerant dealers, chiefly in the neighbourhood of the Royal Exchange, to those who had faith in their alleged properties. The allu sions to this opinion are very frequent in the plays of that age, of which there is a remarkable instance in Shakspeare's Troilus and Cressida. To this we shall add, that as there was an early and frequent intercourse between Spain and Galway in Ireland, there is some reason to conjecture that the potatoe had been introduced into Ireland directly from Spain, at a very early period.

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She blooms in the winter of her days, Like the Glastonbury thorn!'

I HAVE before given an account of my dearly beloved aunt as an economist, and the good-natured creature took the rub very kindly: 1 therefore venture again to display her, as a person of taste and fashion.

This rara avis is now at the tender age of fifty-five, and has such an inordinate desire of appearing fashionable; yet in every other affair she is very mean, except in the decoration of her miserable, decayed, own dear self: in her dress she is particularly nouvelle; she always sports the newest fashions; she dis," plays the Trafalgar hat, the petticoat la garniture a la Chine, and short enough to shew her beautiful little tiny foot and genteel ancle: the bear skin graces her rather round shoulders; while her withered hands are concealed by a fashionable pair of kid gloves. I had almost forgot the velvet pelisse, which truly hides a

the fair reader may not deem me too
severe on part of the sex, having too
much regard

To rob fair ones of rest,
Or give pain to each breast
While their charms and their beauties decay.
S. Y.

Pillowcase Hall, 1807.

ANECDOTE of BARON, the French dramatic Writer and Actor.

multitude of faults. To view her either in the rear, right, or left, to be sure, she is passable; but in front she is really rather a piece of polished antiquity. Now some of her sex are so exquisitely skilful, that, give them but a good pair of eyes, and they will make boson, lips, cheeks, and eye-brows, by their own industry: she sports nothing of this sort, though I think it would well become her; and as I have a profound regard for the old lady, I really think of giving her a gentle A FEW days before Baron's cohint: I will send her some brushes, medy of The Brothers' was intendwashes, soaps, lotions, rose and ad for representation, M. de Roqueother waters, perfumes, pomatums, laure said to the author-Baron, rouge, and every other unguent I can when will you shew me your new think of to beautify her tender fea- piece? You know I have heard of tures as she has nothing agreeable. I have invited three ladies who in her conduct, an addition to her appearance may not be amiss. Oh! were it possible to fill up the cavities of her wrinkled checks, her fashionable aquiline nose would add beauty beyond expression to her dark rolling, bewitching eyes; whilst her mouse-coloured ringlets would at in tervals conceal the brightness, as passing clouds obscure the bright ness of the sun. Oh! could I but see my dear, my beautiful aunt, in this celestial habit, she would appear a modern Alcesta. But, alas! then what would she be but a model; in APPEARANCE Cvery thing, in REALITY nothing! But yet, in this garb, could I but see her viewing herself, I am satisfied her glass would remind her of the following

lines:

are lovers of literature to dine with me; come and join us. Bring the Brothers with you, and gratify us by reading it. I am curious to compare it with the Adelphi of Terence. Baron accepted the invitation, and went the following day to M. de Roquelaure's hotel, where he found two countesses and a marchioness, who expressed a polite impatience to hear him read his comedy. Notwithstanding this, they sat a longer time than is usual; and when they got up from dinner, the ladies called for cards. How! cards!' cried M. de Roquelaure, with surprise; you forget that Baron has come on purpose to read his new comedy.'—' No, no, monsieur,' replied one of the countesses, we do not forget it: Whilst we play, Baron may read his piece, and thus we shall kill two

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Graca was in all her steps, heav'n in her birds with one stone." At these words,

eye,

In all her gestures dignity and love."'

As the good creature has many qualities (I don't say good), if this delineation should not offend her, it is likely I may, at a future period, give another description. 1 trust

the author jumped up and hastened to the door; then, turning to the company, he said -"My piece was not written to be read to

gamblers-M. Poinsinet has dramatised this incident in his comedy of The Circle.

HARRIET VERNON;

OR,

was only withheld from his inability to provide for me as a wife.

I was not convinced that such were his sentiments until a few

CHARACTERS FROM REAL LIFE. days previous to his quitting Eng

A NOVEL,

In a Series of Letters.

BY A LADY.

(Continued from p. 245.)

LETTER XXII.

Miss Maria Vernon to Miss West.

My dear Madam,

THE last week has made a considerable alteration in my affairs. I dread to lay before you my conduct, lest I should incur blame from a quarter I am most solicitous to obtain approbation from.

[Miss Vernon then relates what passed between Mrs. Ambrose and herself to the same effect, written by that lady to her brother, and then proceeds:]

Thus called upon, what could I do, my dear madam, but lay before this worthy lady the state of my heart without reserve? She used many arguments to induce me to conquer this unfortunate attachment, as she thinks it; but, alas! I had argued them before without success. Were I not sensible I could not, in my present state of mind, make the colonel happy as a wife, I would have resolved to make the sacrifice of my affections, and to have regarded my own happiness as a secondary consideration. Whilst Mr. Wentworth remains unmarried, I cannot avoid indulging a hope I may one day be his; for although he never in direct terms offered himself to my acceptance, I have, from many circumstances, reason to think he VOL. XXXVIII.

land, and after I had engaged myself to the colonel. It was then my resolution to forget him failed me: had I been indifferent to him, my reason and prudence would have conquered my own inclination.

After disclosing my mind to Mrs. Ambrose, and she had written to her brother, think, Madam, what uneasiness I must feel with respect to what his sentiments might be of my conduct. I dreaded above all things he should think me capricious, or ungrateful. In proportion to the in the perusal of the inclosed letter uneasiness was the joy I experienced sister, both which could only be. written to myself, and another to his dictated by the most generous of men. I likewise inclose the copy of my answer, which I hope you will approve. As I was fully resolved to disclose the whole affair to my. brother, let what would be the consequence, I entreated Mrs. Ambrose to suffer me to return home for that have left Harriet behind; but her purpose. I would have wished to sisterly affection would not permit her to leave me, and we returned together. We were surprised, on entering the parlour, to find our brother traversing the ing passion, with a letter in his room, in a seem hand.

'So!' exclaimed he, here's a fine week's work turned out! I have just received this letter from colonel Ambrose: the contents you know, it seems; and three pretty fools he has made of us!'

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'Oh! brother,' said I, blame not the generous colonel; it is all my own fault,'

'Yes,' replied he, it is your own fault, indeed. Had you taken

my advice, and married him while he was in the mind, it would now have been too late to alter it. I knew it would come to this.'

I then proceeded to tell him, as well as I was able, the whole truth, not omitting my attachment to Mr. Wentworth; but when I had finished, and expected nothing less than a dismission from his favour, he answered me in the following manner :-' Was you born a fool, Maria; or do you think I was?'

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Neither, brother,' said I, trembling.

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Well, then, unless you was born an absolute idiot, it is impossible you could have acted as you pretend; and unless I had been born the same, it is impossible you can make me believe it, when I have besides in my possession such a letter as this from the colonel. 'Here, read it,' said he. 'Does he not say, in direct terms, he has altered his mind as to making you his wife? If your story was true, would not any man have complained to me of such illtreatment on your side; or, eveh suppose he was disposed to have made you appear not so blameable as in such a case you would have been, think you he would have taken all the blame on himself? No, no; I know the world better: you must not think to impose on me.'

To what purpose, brother, should I impose on you?"

Nay, that I cannot answer; but I suppose, as he says you declare yourself satisfied in the matter, you have between you agreed to trump up this story to amuse me: but I am not to be made a dupe of; the law shall direct who is the dupe.'

Frightened to death with this threat, I was about to fall on my knees and entreat him to alter his purpose; but Harriet whispered me it was impossible the law could lay

hold on the colonel, as there was no witness to a promise of marriage.

Had he believed

It would be tedious to relate all that passed. I found it impossible to persuade him of the truth of what I had told him; more especially, as Harriet, to whom I referred, maintained an obstinate silence. Never was I angry with the dear girl before. She insists on it she was right, for she argues it was necessary to my interest that my brother should persist in his error. you,' said she, the consequence would have been that you must have been thrown on the world, or the colonel, for a support.'-I see the truth of her remark, but I was anxious to vindicate the honour of my generous friend: unworthy should I be of that generosity were I capable of bestowing a thought on my own interest.-How totally devoid of delicacy must my brother be to believe it impossible that a young woman could act as I have done; and what an idea must he have of the world to suppose there is not such a character in it as the generous colonel Ambrose !

I shall,' said my brother, answer this letter immediately, in a manner the gentleman, perhaps, may not like; and this evening I will bring home from the club my friend lawyer Dixon, who will give me his opinion in this matter gratis. In the mean time, I recommend to you, if you value my favour, to speak the truth, to acknowledge you are made a fool of. You are not the first woman that has been served the same, though they may, like yon, be too proud to own it. I am sorry for you, and should be more so if you were open and above board, and had not attempted to impose such an improbable tale upon me, who know the world as well as any man upon 'Change.'

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