"Bellstar, pooh! He's out of sight altogether, poor fellow! She must marry to get a position, not to please herself, and she's a sensible girl enough to know that. Bellstar! a fellow without a shilling, who lives nobody knows how! Why, my lady would go mad, and my lord suspend himself from his bedpost in his garters at the thought."

With this they reached the garden gate. But Tremore did not leave the grounds without a hearty shake of the hand from Mr. Laneton, and some flattering words, carelessly spoken, which made the young man desirous of cultivating his further acquaint

ance.

CHAPTER XV.

The Rata in its manner of growth is very singular. At first it is a creeper, clinging for support round some young tree. For a time both flourish together in close embrace; but as they grow, the subtle Rata, appearing to sap the strength of its early supporter, winds its strong arms around, by slow degrees crushes it to death, and eventually becomes itself the tree. The Putakea is generally favoured with these embraces, which, though slow, are sure to kill.-Hursthouse's New Zealand.

THERE are some people who are never idle in repose, and some people who are never industrious in activity. Mr. Laneton belonged to the former class. He would do more work while quietly sipping his wine and cracking his filberts, than many a bustling fellow would get through from sunrise to midnight. When he had dined he reviewed the events of the day, considered how far they had advanced his interests, and, connecting circumstance with circumstance, decided on the next steps to be taken. His large keen grey eyes at this time nearly always sparkled with pleasure, for he rarely found any thing

in his review of the day's transactions to displease him. He was one of those happilyconstituted persons who avoid (in their own opinion, at least) both the great branches of human error. He neither did the things he ought not to have done, nor left undone the things he ought to have done.

Money-getting is different from most other pursuits of life in this, that if a man be in earnest about it he need have little fear of disappointment. No matter what his position in life may be, if he loves money better than his own ease and enjoyment, better than food and sleep, than wife and children, than charity and religion-if he fixes his soul intently on amassing it-then he will succeed. All great misers, like the renowned Jemmy Wood of Gloucester, have begun from nothing.

But it would be injustice to Mr. Laneton to compare him with the class vulgarly known as misers. He could be liberal, and even profuse, when he had an object in view. His establishment was handsome, and he made a generous allowance for superfluities. He was not exactly the founder of his own fortune; it had been "fructifying" for three generations; but, under his able management,

VOL. I.

it had thriven so well, that he counted hundreds where his father had counted only units. He never considered the end of his vast wealth. It was his business to amass money; and he liked the occupation so well, that it engrossed every thought of his mind. He approached wealth by instinct; by instinct he wound round it the coils of his art, in the shape of mortgages, bonds, liens, notes of hand, I O U's; and all so naturally, that, when a great estate fell into his possession, he was puzzled to tell how he first obtained a hold on it, and how that hold became gradually strengthened.

Freeborn characterised him as a locomotive in the world of commerce; and he was right. Men like Mr. Laneton connect cities together-set trade in motion-keep money in circulation, and carry thousands safely on their way. That is the fair side of their character. But, on the other hand, they will, with their iron intelligence and untiring energy, sweep every obstacle from before them-crush every thing in their path—and now and then spread ruin and destruction round, wounding, mangling, and killing without mercy. The great capitalist is, indeed, a weighty locomotive performing

great services, but not without toll duly taken. Mr. Laneton, at the time I introduce him to my readers, is at the height of his prosperity. He has thriven on panics, and gathered to himself the fragments of those fortunes which have been broken up by unprosperous times. He is made of different stuff to failing merchants. He has nothing soft and gentlemanly in his nature. His pocket ledger is constantly about his person; it is with him in the park, at the dinner-table, in the ball-room. He rises at four in the morning to study it. Well worthy is it of all his care. The destinies of hundreds are marked in its pages. More prophetic than sybilline leaves, they foreshadow the course of some of those brilliant flies of fashion, who seem to bask in the brightest rays of the sun; of some great aristocratic houses, which shall sink in ruin when the fatal cross of red ink is set against their names; of some firms of good repute, which shall tumble down in rottenness when their last shred of security is gone, and money becomes too dear to trust them with it longer; of some politicians-this, reader, in your ear-to whose eccentricities I could, by aid of that ledger, furnish an explanation, if I loved to contem