6 to get these huge books home was the next consideration. The auctioneer offered to send them; but I not knowing what sort of creatures auctioneers were, determined to take them myself-so after the assistant had tied them up, I marched out of the room with these huge books upon my shoulder, like Samson with the gates of Gaza, amidst the smiles of all present. When I reached my home, after the servant had opened the door, the first person I met was my now sainted mother. My dear boy,' said she, 'what have you got there? I thought you would not keep your guinea long.' 'Do not be angry, mother,' said I, throwing them down upon the table, I have bought the world for nine shillings.' This was on Saturday, and I well remember sitting up till it was well nigh midnight, turning over this History of the World. These books became my delight, and were carefully read through and through. As I grew older, I at length became a Christian, and my love of books naturally led me to desire to be a Christian minister. To the possession of these books I attribute, in a great measure, any honours in connexion with literature that have been added to my name. I have not mentioned this anecdote,' said the rev. gentleman, to gratify any foolish feeling, but to encourage in those young persons I see before me, that love of literature which has afforded me such unspeakable pleasure-pleasure which I would not have been without for all the riches of the Indies.' THE MIGRATION OF BIRDS.* As fables tell, an Indian sage, I wish I did his power possess, That I might learn, fleet bird, from thee, And know from what wide wilderness THE migration of the feathered race has occupied much Birds migrate northwards and southwards; so that there is in our latitudes at least a periodical ebb and tide of spring and winter visiters. The former gradually work their way, as the season advances, from the warm regions of the south, where they have enjoyed food and sunshine, and have escaped the rigours of our winter, and arrive here to cheer us with their songs, and to make our summer months still more delightful. The latter, being inhabitants of the arctic circle, and finding in the forests and morasses of that region a sufficient supply of food in summer, are only led to quit their homes when the early winter begins to bind up the lakes and the surface of the earth, and to deprive them of sustenance. It is then that they seek our milder shores; and, accordingly, at the season when our summer visitants are leaving us to proceed on their journey southwards, these songless inhabitants of the north arrive to take their places, and to feed on such winter fruits and berries, and such insects and aquatic plants, as are denied to their own inhospitable climate. These visiters, though mute, are of no mean value; for many of them are esteemed as delicate food; and, in consequence, the redwing, fieldfare, woodcock, snipe, widgeon, &c., are wont to receive homage and admiration from those who could listen to the sweet warblings of the nightingale or the tender cooings of the turtle-dove with perfect indifference. The visits of these birds, as well as of those from the south, depend greatly on the state of the weather, which appears to hasten or retard their flight as the season may be. Thus, we often find that a few of our summer birds leave the main body, and arrive sooner than the rest, From 'Chronicles of the Seasons.' London: J. W. Parker. while the others have been kept back by a sudden return of unfavourable weather, according to the adage, 'One swallow does not make a summer.' It is a singular fact, that the early comers are male birds, arriving, as it would seem, in search of a fit spot to which to introduce their mates. The bird-catchers are aware of this, and prepare their traps accordingly, so that nightingales and other singing birds are often snared on their first arrival, and spend the short remainder of their lives in captivity. Many birds return not only to the same country, but to the very spot they left in the preceding season, a fact which has been ascertained by catching and marking some of them, while other birds do not confine themselves to a particular country, but range from one to another, as circumstances may dictate. It has been observed that certain migratory birds do not leave their summer abode, unless the winter is to be one of unusual severity. This fact is surprising, and the question, 'By what means is the bird instructed as to the coming season ?' naturally presents itself to the mind, but still remains unanswered. What their instinctive knowledge is, and whether they have any power of reflecting on the phenomena by which they are surrounded, will ever probably be a mystery to us; but we may trace in this, as in numberless other instances, the care and wise management of a superintending Providence, by which creatures small and insignificant in the scale of creation are led to choose the climate most favourable to them, and to hasten towards another region just at the period when a longer tarry in the one they inhabit would be fatal to them. "Where the northern ocean, in vast whirls, Boils round the naked melancholy isles Of furthest Thule, and the Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides, Who can recount what transmigrations there Are annual made? what nations come and go? And how the living clouds on clouds arise? Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air And rude resounding shore are one wild cry.' Most birds perform their migrations during the night; but there are some that travel only by day, and others that stop not either by night or by day. Among the first are the owl, blackbird, &c., and a great number of aquatic birds; among those that travel by day, are the crow, pie, titmouse, wren, woodpecker, chaffinch, goldfinch, lark, swallow, and some others; and of those which do not intermit their flight are the heron, wagtail, yellowhammer, stork, crane, plover, swan, and wild goose. These choose a bright moonlight season in which to set out on their journey. The flight of birds has been estimated from fifty to hundred and fifty miles an hour, though some heavy bir scarcely exceed thirty miles an hour. Bishop Stanley mentions, in his 'Familiar History of Birds,' an easy way by which the flight of birds may be determined with tolerable accuracy. Supposing any bird-a partridge, for instance-should rise from the middle of the stubble, and fly a straight line over a hedge, all the observer has to do is to note by the second's hand of a watch the number of seconds between the bird's rising and that of its topping the hedge; and then ascertain the distance between the point from whence it rose and the hedge, by stepping and counting the number of paces; when, supposing each pace to be a yard, we have a common rule of three sum. Thus, if a partridge in three seconds flies one hundred yards how many yards will it fly in 3600 seconds, or one hour! Another method of ascertaining the flight of birds is by carrier-pigeons. The same author tells us of a recent instance, in which fifty-six of these birds were brought over from Holland, and set at liberty in London. They! were turned out at half-past four o'clock in the morning, and all reached their dove-cots at home by noon; but one favourite pigeon, called 'Napoleon,' arrived about a quarter before ten o'clock, having performed the distance of three hundred miles at the rate of above fifty miles an hour, supposing he lost not a moment and proceeded in a straight line; but, as they usually wheel about in the air for some time before they start, the first bird must have flown, most likely, at a still quicker rate. It is probable that most birds perform their journey to distant countries by stages of a few hours' flight, resting and recruiting their strength in convenient situations. We need not suppose them often to cross the wide expanse of the ocean, but take it at its narrowest portions, as the channel between France and England, the Mediterranean, &c., and so pursuing their way across the continent. Their power of remaining on the wing does not excite so much surprise as do the motives which lead them to undertake such distant flights, and the instinct which guides them so unerringly in their aerial course; for though we have named the deficiency of food as one of the probable causes of migration, this does not apply in many cases; and we are more and more at a loss to account for the facts relating to several species of the feathered race. Of all migrating birds the cranes may perhaps be considered the most remarkable. They seem to be most endowed with foresight, and have every appearance of consultation and regular preparation for the time of their departure. They utter peculiar cries several days before, and assemble with much noise and bustle. They then form themselves into two lines, making an angle, at the vortex of which one of their number, who is looked upon as the general director of their procedings, takes his place. The office of the leader seems to be to exercise authority and issue orders to the whole party, to guide them in inclement weather in their circling flight, to give the signal for their descent, feeding, &c. Piercing cries are heard, as if commanding and answering to the command. If the leader grows tired, his place is taken by the bird next him, while he retires to the end of the line; and thus their orderly flight is accomplished. In order that birds may fly with ease and continue long on the wing, they must fly against the wind; and patiently do they wait for a favourable time in this respect. The sudden change of the wind will sometimes cause numbers of quails, which are heavy in their flight, to be drowned in crossing the Mediterranean Sea. Yet there are certain seafaring birds so wonderfully endowed as to remain almost continually on the wing, and which are often found at the distance of more than a thousand miles from land. The gigantic albatross is one of these, with its enormous expanse of wing, measuring fourteen feet, or even more, from tip to tip. But the bird which surpasses all others in its power of flight is the frigate-bird, which seldom visits the land except at the breeding season, and is never seen to swim or rest upon the waters. With such an instance of adaptation to the regions of the air, we need no longer wonder at the power by which our birds are enabled to remain so long on the wing as to perform their periodical migration to other lands. It has been observed that the least willow-wren and the stone-curlew generally appear amongst us during the last week in March; while the following birds are not often with us till from about the 14th to the 20th of April; the nightingale, blackcap, chimney-swallow, redstart, yellow willow-wren, grasshopper-lark, martlet, and pied fly-catcher. At the end of April and the beginning of May are seen the lesser reed-sparrow, cuckoo, sandmartin, great willow-wren, spotted fly-catcher, blackmartin, and landrail; while about the middle of May, the swift and goat-sucker, or fern-owl, usually join the throng. 'Ye tell us a tale of the beautiful earth, By you preach lately in the Tabernacle in London.' 'I have preached frequently in that place,' replied Mr ' and feel much interest in it; and that interest was greatly increased by an incident which occurred to myself some time ago. On the occasion to which I refer, I had preached on the Sabbath, and next morning set out to take a walk, without having any particular object in view. I met a gentleman, who looked very earnestly at me, and, accosting me by name, asked me if I had no objections to walk with him? Though surprised at such a request from a total stranger, I consented, and he led me towards the west end of the city. By and by we arrived in front of an elegant mansion, before which the gentleman stopped and said-'Sir, that is my dwelling; I will be very glad if you will step in and rest yourself.' I consented, and he led me into a room beautifully furnished. After resting a short time, he said, 'Would you like to see through my house, sir ?' Amazed at such a question, I replied that I should be glad to see it. He led me over the whole dwelling, showed me everything it contained; and I found it to be furnished in every part in the first style of elegance. When we returned to the parlour, the gentleman said, 'I have no doubt that you are not a little surprised at my conduct.' 'I confess I am,' replied I; when the gentleman, with deep emotion, answered'Sir, I owe all, under God, which you have seen, to you.' I was still more surprised, and asked how that could be? when he gave me the following narrative: I am a Scotchman, and came up to London, many years ago, a journeyman cabinetmaker. I had been religiously educated, and for some time conducted myself with propriety, and maintained my wife and family comfortably. and by I became careless; neglected my Bible and the house of God. I lost my situation, and wandered long in idleness about the streets. One piece of furniture after another went away to support us, till we had not a stool to sit upon. We were driven into a miserable cellar, without a bed to lie down on. My wife and children were starving. I became desperate, and resolved to throw myself into the Thames. I hurried out to effect my purpose. On my way I saw a number of people going in one direction, and wondered where, so early in the morning, they could be going. I stopped and resolved to go along with them, thinking I would have an opportunity afterwards of effecting my purpose. The people entered the Tabernacle ; I followed, and took my place among them. You, sir, preached on the words-When the poor and needy seek water and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I, the Lord, will hear them-I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them;' and at the close of your discourse, you appealed to the audience if any of them had ever proved God either for this life, for spiritual consolation, or for the life that is to come. My conscience was smitten, and I said 'I have never done so for one of these things;' and I resolved on the spot that I would begin that very day. I hurried home, found my wife sitting upon a stone, and my children crying for bread. After a moment's pause, I said to her, 'Have you any objections to our reading a portion of the Bible? She looked at me with surprise, and answered, 'None.' We sought for a Bible, but found only a few tattered leaves-on those we read. I then said, 'Suppose we kneel down and pray.' My wife burst into tears. I had touched a chord that brought other days to her remembrance. We all knelt down and prayed. All that day we tasted no food. Next morning a letter came from an old shopmate, stating that he heard I had been out of work, enclosing a guinea-note, and informing me of a master whom he understood wanted workmen. I applied, and was engaged. There were three brothers in partnership. First one died, then another, the third took me into partnership, and what you have seen is the result.'Well, I see you have got the streams of temporal comfort.' 6 Ah, but, sir, I have got more-I have got the streams of spiritual consolation, and I live in the hope-I trust well-founded-of drinking of the streams of eternal joy, which flow from the throne of God and of the Lamb!'" THE LIGHT FROM HEAVEN. It is only when illumined by a light from heaven that the mind of man expands into its full energies. The natural impulses of powerful intellect, bold fancy, energetic purpose, and high and aspiring achievements, will carry him onwards in the career of improvement; but unless they are guided and encouraged, and directed to nobler aims and higher aspirations than it would ever enter into the heart of man to conceive, all would finally crumble into dust, and pass away into baseless visions. Every thing that we can call great and beautiful and fair and humanizing on earth, has been achieved by this favoured family of mankind. Who has scanned the firmament and dived into the immensity of space, unravelling the intricate laws which uphold the planetary orbs, imparting to our minds wonderful conceptions of the starry host of heaven? Who fearlessly launched the strong-built bark to circumnavigate the globe, and made us acquainted with every nation, kindred, and tongue ? Who has explored the wonders of the earth, the sea, and air, and detailed the curious history and mechanism of the innumerable forms with which the elements teem? Who has dived into the mysteries of thought, and explained the operations of the impalpable mind? Who has sung us songs to elevate the soul and raise the feelings above the gross realities of earth? Who has caught the images of external beauty and fixed them for our admiration on glowing canvass, or moulded them in durable marble? Who has raised our monumental domes and temples in which the living and true God receives unpolluted worship? All have been the achievements of the white man, under the guidance of Providence. Yet, in a population exceeding nine hundred millions, the proportion of this race, even at the present time, does not nearly amount to one-half. It is singular to think to what a partial spot of earth, and to what a handful of human beings, the first seeds of sacred knowledge were confided, and with what rapid pace the tide of emigration must, in the mean time, have been flowing over the dark and unknown regions of the earth, peopling them with beings who were sinking, as rapidly as their numbers multiplied, into the lowest stages of barbarism. After the introduction of a more perfect and distinct revelation, it is no less singular to think of the many centuries of ignorance, and turbulence, and crime, ere the benign influence of its precepts and the renovating and spiritual nature of its doctrines began to operate to any extent on the human race. We can only account for such circumstances by reflecting that a few centuries, or even thousands of years, are as a day compared to infinitude, and that such periods, long and dreary as they may appear to the eye of the isolated and fugitive mortal, are not a single hour longer than what was requisite to consummate the mighty schemes of Omnipotence.-North British Review. HUMILITY. An humble man is like a good tree; the more full of fruit the branches are, the lower they bend themselves. THE SCOTTISH THISTLE. This ancient emblem of our country, with its motto, 'Nemo me impune lacessit,' is represented of various species on royal bearings, coins, and coats of armour, so that there is some difficulty in saying which is the genuine original thistle. The origin of the national badge itself is thus handed down by tradition :-When the Danes invaded Scotland it was deemed unwarlike to attack an enemy in the pitch darkness of night instead of a pitched battle by day; but on one occasion the invaders resolved to avail themselves of this stratagem; and in order to prevent their tramp from being heard, they marched barefooted. They had thus neared the Scottish force unobserved, when a Dane unluckily stepped with his naked foot upon a superb prickly thistle, and instinctively uttered a cry of pain, which discovered the assault to the Scots, who ran to their arms, and defeated the foe with a terrible slaughter. The thistle was immediately adopted as the insignia of Scotland. OUR LOST TIME. Lost wealth may be restored by industry, the wreck of health regained by temperance, forgotten knowledge restored by study, alienated friendship smoothed into forgetfulness, even forfeited reputation may be won back by penitence and virtue-but who ever again looked upon his vanished hours, recalled his slighted years, stamped them with wisdom, or effaced from Heaven's record the fearful blot of wasted time?—Mrs Sigourney. THE DREAM. Oh! dinna hang your head, love, Our twa wee bairns, I trow, love, I dream'd a dream yestreen, love, Although nae langer ours, Amang the blooming flowers. And happy were they a', love, And bonnie did they singFar sweeter than the bird, love, That wakes our fleeting spring. As hand in hand they gaed, love, They spied baith you and me; Syne, like twa little doos, love, Richt kindly flew to thee; And laid their gowden harps, love, Syne led us through their land, love, When I could see thee smile! As they kiss'd us baith, and bade us,love, Yet though the grass wave green, love, And we'll be yet as they. And when its eve shall close, love, PHOSPHORUS IN POTATOES. Lichtenberg tells us, that an officer on guard, at Strai burg, on 7th January, 1825, passing the barrack-roc forbidden, occasioned a suspicion of fire. On entering th was alarmed at seeing a light there, which, being strict apartment, he found the soldiers sitting up in bed, admiring and reading by a beautiful light, which proceede i from potatoes in a state of incipient putrefaction.-Jan. Ed. Ph. Journ. Printed and published by JAMES HOGG, 122 Nicolson Sheet, Edinburgh; to whom all communications are to be adire, Sold also by J. JOHNSTONE, Edinburgh; J. M'LFOD, Glasgor: M'COM, Belfast; J. CLANCY, Dublin; G. & R. KING, Aberdeen R. WALKER, Dundee; G. PHILIP, Liverpool; FINLAY & CHAR TON, Newcastle; WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham: A. HT WOOD, Manchester; CULLINGWORTH, Leeds; R. GROOMERIG & SONS, London; and all Booksellers. No. 52. EDINBURGH, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1846. FRANKNESS AND RESERVE. To strike a proper medium between imprudent openness of communication and forbidding reserve, is an attainment which will be found of no small consequence in our progress through life. While an open ingenuous disposition is naturally most attractive, it is, when carried to an extreme, attended with many serious evils; and, on the other hand, while a person characterized by great caution in his conversation avoids the foolish disclosures of the former, he is in danger, if he maintain too close a reserve, of thereby repelling the friendly feelings which depend on mutual knowledge, and consequent sympathy. But before attempting to point out the course to be pursued in order to steer clear of both these extremes, it may be as well to delineate a few varieties in each class; for while the general effect may be the same, the causes which lead to it are often very different. There are first, then, the constitutionally reservedthose whose natural disposition it is to withdraw, like the snail, within its shell, from the gaze of the multitude, the tendency of their minds being to restrain the outward expression of their views and feelings. Then there are the reserved from considerations suggested by prudence. Having frequently seen mischievous consequences flowing from making those with whom we come in contact the repositaries of our information, they put a guard upon their lips, lest they should be led, by too great freedom of intercourse, into some awkward and unpleasant predicament. However necessary prudence in this respect may be, persons of this class sometimes carry their caution to a ridiculous extent. So guarded is their correspondence with all around them, that one would imagine they believed themselves surrounded by persons resembling the emissaries of the famous or rather infamous Fouché, ready to seize on every word and drag them into judgment on account of it. Such persons seem to move in an atmosphere of mystery; they scarcely know what they do themselves, far less how others are engaged. A decided remark upon character or events never falls from their lips; the farthest length they are ever known to go, and even that is a stretch, is to mention that they had heard so and so-however, it was but a rumour, merely a floating report, as likely to be false as true. With such persons, the reply 'I don't know,' is an impenetrable ægis, repelling every curious inquiry. To judge from their conversation, they turn the contingency of the past into certainty, and adopt as their motto, 'Since ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.' A third class we find characterized by dignified re PRICE 1d. serve. A number of those little incidents and events which possess interest in the estimation of others, are passed over by them as unworthy of notice; they look with a feeling bordering on contempt upon the trifles which, judging from the conversation in vogue, seem to occupy the attention of others. Their taste becomes gradually more fastidious, and as they find it impossible to introduce important and serious subjects at every season, and in all companies, the consequence is, that they learn to retire into the sanctuary of their own thoughts for entertainment. Then, again, there are the consequentially reserved. The reserve of this class is to be understood with limitations; it rather consists in the withholding sources of information than of the information itself. To say, 'I read so and so in the newspapers,' or 'such a person told me this,' would in their estimation be an unpardonable lowering of their consequence. Such phrases as I understand,' or I am told,' convey a far grander and more indefinite idea to their hearers, of their knowledge of men and things. Reserve, however, may very often proceed from principle-from a rigid determination to say nothing but what is well authenticated, and which will not prove injurious to the character of any one: and although such a determination shuts up numerous subjects respecting which perfect freedom of intercourse may be enjoyed, it also prevents the person acting upon it from indulging in that kind of conversation in which it is most dangerous to throw off reserve. The causes leading to freedom of communication are as various as those leading to the opposite. There is a constitutional frankness, as well as a constitutional reserve-with some it is as natural to communicate as it is with others to refrain from communicating. The first of this class may be denominated the benevolently frank. These take a philanthropic pleasure in entertaining and interesting those with whom they meet, and, in order to effect this end, they make all the stock of information which they themselves possess a common good, transferable at any time for the public benefit. Such persons most assiduously set themselves to minister to the gratification of their companions. If the reply to the question, 'Have you heard so and so ?' be in the negative, they with the utmost delight proceed to give a full, true, and particular account c the whole matter, thinking themselves abundantly recompensed for their trouble by the pleasure which they thus confer. As there are the consequentially reserved, so there are also the consequentially unreserved. If you intrust a secret to one of the latter, depend upon it, it will not long remain so. The pleasure of showing that he has been thus distinguished from the multitude, overpowers a sense of honour, and the secret is communicated to a third person, accompanied with strict injunctions that it should go no farther, conveyed, perhaps, in such terms as the following: Now, I expect this wont go beyond these walls, and I tell it you knowing that it will be perfectly safe.' As example is always better than precept, it will readily be conceived, that however conclusive this reasoning may be to its author, it will not exert a very great influence on the person whose conduct it is intended to sway. Another grade of this class are those individuals who speak freely of themselves, their opinions, their doings, their acquirements; but all this is done from motives of vanity, in order to place themselves in as favourable a light as possible. These various causes of the two dispositions which form the subject of this paper, although distinct in theory, are generally found blended more or less together in actual life, sometimes one preponderating and sometimes another. In regard to whether it is best to cultivate the one or the other, it will be found that the path of safety lies in the middle, the extremes on either side being dangerous. The person who invariably keeps his sentiments and opinions, joys and sorrows, to himself, will soon find himself as isolated from the sympathy of his fellow-creatures as Robinson Crusoe was in his desert island, having placed himself voluntarily in that forlorn situation, to which Defoe's hero was forced by adverse circumstances. He thus deprives himself of that interchange of feeling which enhances the joy of prosperity, and soothes and sustains the mind in adversity; for the Creator has appointed the disclosure of our feelings to those who can sympathize with them, as a kind of safety-valve, in those times of extreme emotion when the heart would break if not thus relieved. While an individual of a too reserved character thus deprives himself of the benefit and happiness arising from social interchange of feeling, one of a completely opposite character is thereby exposed to evils which, though of a different nature, are by no means less to be avoided. Such a person often errs with regard to those whom he makes his confidants-newly formed friends, casual acquaintances, or even perfect strangers, receive communications fit only for the ear of intimate friends, on whose prudence reliance may be placed. Certainly, none need feel themselves distinguished by the confidence of such persons, which is freely bestowed on any with whom they may happen to come in contact. Those of this character err also in regard to the subjects on which they speak. Details respecting personal and family matters, which a right thinking and prudent person would shrink from allowing to pass beyond the circle in which they occurred, are made known to those whose only interest in them is the gratification of their curiosity, and being furnished with the means of communicating to others what was so thoughtlessly made known to them. And it were comparatively well if an individual of this disposition restricted himself to his own affairs; but it seldom happens that this is the case. He who exposes his own concerns to the public is not likely to be very chary about those of others, and rash judgments in regard to character, and exaggerated or ill-authenticated reports of matters are thrown about, as if the individual were utterly careless of the injuries which giving currency to such statements may inflict on those who are the subjects of them. Many have had great reason to repent of such unreserved and imprudent, not to say sinful communications. But it may be said here, that it is far easier to see the evils on both sides, than to hit the exact medium between unsociableness on the one hand and imprudence on the other. So it is; but still to reach this is a point of some importance in the minor morals of life, and it is worth while to make an effort to do so. To gain this object we should use discrimination, both in regard to whom we speak, and what we speak about. In reference to the first of these, our communications, especially in as far as they relate to personal feelings or history, should grow more and more reserved as the circle widens, for there are many things which it would be quite proper for an individual to speak freely of in his own family, which it would be manifestly imprudent to talk of in the same manner to mere acquaintances or strangers; for while in the one case such openness tends to strengthen affection, in the other it may only furnish an aliment to the curious, or, as sometimes happens, weapons to the designing. In regard to what we speak of, we should be careful to say nothing, either directly or indirectly, for the mere purpose of showing off ourselves, our amiable character, our knowledge, our connexions, and the like; and if we are tempted to introduce subjects for any such purpose, we should immediately check ourselves, remembering the counsel of the wise man-Let another praise thee, and not thine own lips.' of Again, in all our communications, we ought to have a strict regard to character; putting out of view altogether a worse motive, we ought never, for the mere purpose having something interesting to say, thoughtlessly make statements injurious to the character of others. On the other hand, we ought to avoid making a mystery of trifes. and of those things, the communication of which, while it may gratify others, can neither injure ourselves nor them Free and unreserved communication of thought and feeling, is at once the cement and charm of domestic life but there are a vast variety of topics of general interest, which may furnish us with subjects of both useful and interesting conversation, in the other circles in which may move, and thus preserve inviolable those mates. publishing of which often manifests both imprudent and vanity. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. Ir among the many distinguished men of whom Ireland is so justly proud, we were called upon to point out the individual who exhibited the most prominent features of the national character, we would name John Phipet Curran. Ireland has produced many men of a more lofty and commanding genius-many who have exerted a mor powerful influence on her destinies than Curran; but per haps she has never possessed a more ardent and consisten patriot, or one who enjoyed in a greater degree the este and affection of his countrymen. Thoroughly nationa all his sympathies, his public life was devoted with unvar ing consistency to the elevation and prosperity of his c try. His professional exertions and extraordinary firmness in defending the liberties of the subject, at a time when such defence endangered his reputation and persona safety; and his regard for the institutions and character of his countrymen, tended to produce that enthusiast attachment to him which will perpetuate his name around the hearths of the Irish people, long after the high-sounding titles of his more ambitious rivals have been forgotten, Mr Curran was born on the 24th July, 1750, at Newmarket, a small town in the south of Ireland. His parents were humble but respectable; and their principal anxiet! was to give their son the advantages of a learned education. His father, James Curran, possessed an original and inquiring mind, which he had cultivated with care and success. The powers which Curran evinced when a boy, induced the Rev. Nathaniel Boyse, resident clergyman at Newmarket, to receive him into his house, where he acquired the rudiments of a classical education. He made rapid progress under his kind friend, who became daily more interested in the advancement of his pupil. Mr Curran's parents being desirous that he should be brought forward for the church, he was shortly afterwards transferred to the free-school of Middleton, preparatory to commencing his studies at Trinity College, Dublin. The unsolicited |