vanity, and curiosity, is a much more mischievous one. A talkative man will be heard, in spite of every reason to be silent. No one can recollect an anecdote so well as he, nor relate it without his assistance. No remark from any in the company is sufficiently clear without some comment from him. He waits not to hear a question fully stated, but, promptly anticipating it, pours forth a lengthened and probably an irrelevant reply. Unhappily, those who talk so much have not always the most wit. Sounding vessels are not frequently full. Their good sense is plainly not sufficient to teach them when to be silent. Nor can it cause them to perceive that their volubility is unpleasant to others. The inordinate curiosity too often exhibited by such folks, has a very ill effect, as, by setting every one upon his guard, it imposes a restraint upon the tongue. The varied circumstances of life produce in the breast many sentiments and feelings, to the recital of which no ear ought to listen, or human knowledge have access. These are our sacred property, and he who endeavours to work through our weakness a passage to the precious deposite, commits a breach of the laws of humanity, and may be considered a moral burglar. There is, however, a friendly as well as an inpertinent curiosity; the latter soon produces disapprobation and disesteem, but the absence of the former creates a gradual but serious mistrust. To affect a total destitution of curiosity, because the excess of it is bad, is unwise, because unnatural; and, like all other affectations, it awakens unpleasant sensations in those who witness it. A reserve of this sort, if practised towards those with whom we are intimate, has a tendency to destroy such intimacy, because it is opposed to that open and generous frankness which characterizes true friendship. Strangers may be ungenerous, and inclined to dissimulate, without much injury, but friends must speak the unaffected language of the heart. It appears, then, that to succeed in familiar conversation, some attention and care is necessary, yet, perhaps, the best rule is-follow nature: in assisting her by art, avoid the appearance of it; betray not an ambition to excel. As man is a social being, and society | COLONIZATION seems to be the human means of preparing all the world to become one vast Christendom. The great universal empire of the Romans was a small portion of the surface of the globe, compared to what Christendom now occupies; and although the nations are not converted now, as they were by the spread of primitive Christianity, yet the progress by colonies has extended over the earth nearly the same nominal Christianity as the early Christian emperors and kings established in their neighbouring provinces, for the enlargement of their dominions, by which small states merged into union with the greater powers. The primitive church lost ground in the east and south; but we behold the Turkish empire almost dismembered by its provincial governors, and seeming ready to fall under Christian powers. The Mahometans and Jews in Turkey are less numerous than the Christians; and the neighbouring empires of Russia and Austria have encroached on the Turkish provinces. Persia and China are approached by the British East India Company, which has overspread the south of Asia, as Russia has the north, on a system of government that not only may go on increasing, but that must go on for its own safety. All the Asiatic Isles and Australasia are under Christian powers; and wherever they colonize largely, the natives decline, and the increase of Christian population gives it in a few years the appearance of a Christian land. The north of Africa, and other pestilential places, remain the abode of Pagans; but on the west and south shore, Christian colonies are piercing the interior, to take possession of the unknown land. The most of the north of Europe, to its remotest isles, have been long bearing the name of Christian, and no opposing power is found on the most northerly of the Polar countries. The new world is in the hands of Christians. The British colonies of North America have made the idolatrous savages retire, and the Romancatholic states in South America are in the progress of revolution, which opens the way to civil and religious liberty, as the first step to improvement. Their superfluous priests are disbanded. All the Catholic countries in Europe are discontented with their religious and civil institutions. France garrisons Spain, Austria garrisons Italy. We saw France lately extirpate popery, and Austria reduce the monastic orders. Prussia, punished for her infidelity, is now enlarged, and made the first Protestant power on the continent. Holland, punished for her love of money, is enlarged, and made the second Protestant power. The German empire has established religious toleration; its Catholic ecclesiastical states on the Rhine, are abolished, and Protestantism predomi nates. Nearly the whole surface of the seas belongs to Christians. There is no anti-christian maritime power. The anti-christian kingdoms are Japan, China, Persia, and Turkey. Besides these, there are one thousand eligible places in heathen lands, where Christians might flourish as colonists, who are now pining at home in want, a burden and nuisance to their country. AGE OF VOLCANIC LAVA. ONE of the futile attempts of the Deists to depreciate revelation, is, that of ascribing an age to lava, greater than the age of the world, and hence they drew the following fallacious conclusions: 1st. That its surface becomes a fertile soil. 2nd. That it is known to remain barren for two thousand years. 3rd. There are strata of lava and soil alternately formed of seven eruptions, as discovered in deep pits or chasms. Therefore the world must be more than fourteen thousand years old. To bolster up this precious nonsense, the following theory is adduced: 1st. The dust carried about by the wind, lodges in the pores of the lava. -2nd. Moss grows thereon.-3rd. This moss rots, and produces meagre vegetables. 4th. These rotting in their turn, are converted into soil. There is nothing in revelation so incredible as this dust! But Brydone, who argues as above, admits what overturns the whole theory;-that showers of ashes from the mountain may accelerate the process. In fact, the mountain discharges not merely lava, or ashes, or stones, but sundry matters, as various as its contents. The purest molten lava pouring into the sea in thick masses, forms stone, according to its component materials; and this should be a hint to the chemists to compose an artificial stone, to pour into a mould like bronze, and thus form statues of a much more permanent substance than gypsum. The discharge from the crater is so prodigious, that Pompeii was buried under ashes, though ten miles distant. In March 1824, there were four acres of blue lupins, for feeding horses, growing on volcanic ashes, formed of ignited clay of various sorts, which in ten minutes of a very moderate explosion, or sublimation of earth, formed one of Mr. Brydone's two-thousand-yearold strata. This is not a solitary instance, but it is so remarkable, that we perceive in it the fallacy of theory, when opposed to fact. If the lava overturns the side of the crater, it is partly mixed with clay, and its remains on the side of the hill do not form quarries of such solid stone, as when it flows from its furnace of fusion unmixed. Thus there are many sorts of lava, according to the matters in fusion below, from the great variety of earths, stones, and minerals in the bowels of the mountain, and a great variance in the appearance of the lava as it lies on the surface, from its adventitious mixtures, and degrees of depth or solid contents. But it is evident, that as soon as fluid pure lava is completely cold, it is as hard as stone, and that no process of time ever alters it. The colour internally is a whitish blue, like our limestone flags, forming building and flagging materials, of great dimensions, bearing no marks of fire. HELL BROKEN LOOSE. (From ERASMUS.) "The divisions of Christian Princes are the scandal of their profession. The Furies strike perish than yield. The Dane, the Pole, the Scot, nay, and the Turk himself, are dipped in the broil and the design. The contagion is got into Spain, Britany, Italy, and France; nay, besides these feuds of hostility and arms, there is a worse matter yet behind; that is to say, there is a malignity that takes its rise from a diversity of opinions; which has debauched men's minds and manners to so unnatural and insociable a degree, that it has left neither faith nor friendship in the world. It has broken all con'fidence betwixt brother and brother, husband and wife; and, it is to be hoped, that this distraction will one day produce a glorious confusion, to the very desolation of mankind; for these controversies of the tongue and of the pen will come at last to be tried at the sword's point.-A. And Fame has said no more in all this, than what these very ears and eyes have heard and seen. For I have been a constant companion and assistant to these Furies; and can speak upon knowledge, that they have proved themselves worthy of their name and office. the fire, and the Monks blow the flame." Dialogue between Charon and Alastor. C. WHY SO brisk, Alastor, and whither so fast, I pray thee?-A. Why, now I have met with you, Charon, I'm at my journey's end.-C. Well, and what news do you bring ?-A. That which you and your mistress Proserpina will be glad to hear.-C. Be quick then, and out with it.-A. In short, the Furies have bestirred themselves, and gained their point. That is to say, what with seditions, wars, robberies, and all manner of plagues, there's not one spot left upon the face of the earth, that does not look like hell above ground. They have spent their snakes and their poison, till they are fain to hunt for more. Their skulls are as bald as so many eggs; not a a hair upon their heads; nor one drop of venom more in their bodies. Wherefore, be ready with your boat and your oars, for you'll have more work, ere long, than you can turn your hand to.-C. Right, but men's minds are vari—C. I could have told you as much as this comes to, myself.-A. Well, and how came you by it?-C. I had it from Fame, some two days ago now. -A. Nay, Fame's a nimble gossip. But what makes you here, without your boat?-C. Why, I can neither will nor chuse; for mine is such a rotten, leaky old piece, that it is impossible, if Fame speak truth, it should ever hold out for such a job; and I am now looking out for a tighter vessel. But, true or false, I must get me another bark, however, for I have suffered a wreck already.-A. You are all dropping wet, I perceive, but I thought you might have been newly come out of a bath.-C. Neither better nor worse, Alastor, than from swimming out of the Stygian lake.-A. And where did you leave your fare;-C. Even paddling among the frogs. able, and what if some devil should start up now to negotiate a peace? There goes a rumour, I can assure you, of a certain scribbling fellow, (one Erasmus they say,) that has entered upon that province.-A. Ay, ay! but he talks to the deaf. There's nobody heeds him now-a-days. Hewrit a kind of a hue and cry after peace, that he fancied to be either fled or banished; and after that, an epitaph upon peace defunct; and all to no purpose. But then we have those on the other hand, that advance our cause as heartily as the very Furies themselves.-C. And what are they, I pray? A. You may observe, up and down, in the courts of princes, certain animals, some of them tucked up with feathers, others in white russet, ashcoloured frocks, gowns, habits, or, call them what you will, these are the instruments, you must know, that are still irritating kings to the thirst of war and blood, under the splendid notions of empire and glory; and with the same art and industry, they inflame the spirits of the nobility likewise, and of the common people. Their sermons are only harangues in honour of the outrages of fire and sword, under the character of a just, a religious, or a board, and three or four thousand more holy war. And, which is yet more hanging at the stern, and your back, wonderful, they make it to be God's methought, never so much as felt it. cause on both sides. God fights for us, C. That is all according as the is the cry of the French pulpits; and, ghosts are; for your hectical, phthisi(what have they to fear who have the cal souls, that go off in a consumption, Lord of hosts for their protector?) weigh little or nothing. But those acquit yourselves like men, say the that are torn out of bodies in a habit English and the Spaniards, and the of foul humours, as in apoplexies, victory is certain, (for this is God's quinsies, fevers, and the like, but cause, not Cæsar's.) As for those that most of all, in the chance of war; these, fall in the battle, their souls mount as I must tell you, carry a great deal of directly to heaven as if they had corpulent and gross matter along with wings to carry them thither, (arms and them.-A. As for the Spaniards and all.)—C. But do their disciples believe the French, methinks they should not all this?-A. You cannot imagine the be very heavy.-C. No, not comparapower of a well-dissembled religion, tively with others; and yet I do not where there's youth, ignorance, ambi- find them altogether so light as feation, and a natural animosity to work thers, neither. But, for the Britons upon. It is an easy matter to impose, and the Germans, who are rank feewhere there is a previous propension ders, I had only ten of them on board to be deceived!-C. Oh! that it did at once, and if I had not lightened my but lie in my power to do these people boat of part of my lading, we had all a good office!A. Give them a mag- gone to the bottom.-A. You were nificent treat, then; there is nothing hard put to it, I find.-C. Ay, but what they'll take better.-C. It must be of do ye think, when we were pestered mallows, lupines, and leeks, then, for with great lords, hectors, and bullies? we have nothing else, you know.-A.-A. You were speaking of a just war Pray let it be partridge, capons, phea- c'en now. sants, they'll never bring their welcome else.-C. But to the point: what should set these people so much agog upon sedition and broils? What can they get by it?-A. Do not you know, then, that they get more by the dead than by the living? Why, there are testaments, funerals, bulls, and twenty other pretty perquisites, that are worth looking after, besides that a camp-life agrees much better with their humour, than to lie droning in their cells. War breeds bishops, and a very blockhead in a time of peace, comes many times to make an excellent military prelate.-C. Well! they understand their business. You have nothing to do, I presume, with those that fall in such a war; these all go straight to heaven, they say.-C. Whither they go, I know not, but this I am sure of: let the war be what it will, it sends us such shoals of cripples, that one would think there were not one soul more left above ground; and they overcharged, not only with gut and surfeits, but with patents, pardons, commissions, and I know not how much lumber besides. A. Do not they come naked to the ferry, then?-C. Yes, yes, but at their first coming they are strongly haunted with the dreams of all these things.--A. Are dreams so heavy then?-C. Heavy, d'ye say? Why, they have A. Stay, but to the matter of a drowned my boat already, and then boat; what necessity of having an- there's the weight of so many halfother?-C. Nay, it is but swimming pence over and above.-A. That's once again, instead of rowing.-A. something, I must confess, if they be Well, but, now I think on it, how came brass.-C. Well, well! it behoves me the boat to sink? - C. Under the at a venture to get a stout vessel.-A. weight of the passengers. A. I Without many words, upon the main thought you had carried shadows only, thou art a happy man.-C. Wherein, not bodies. What may be the weight, as thou lovest me ?-A. Thou wilt get I pray thee, of a cargo of ghosts?-C. thee an estate, in the turning of a hand. Why, let them be as light as water--C. There must be a world of fares, spiders, there may be enough of them to do a body's work. But then my vessel is a kind of phantom too.-A. I have seen the time when you had as many ghosts as you could stow on at a half-penny a ghost, for a man to thrive upon it.-A. You will have enough, I warrant you, to do your business.-C. Ay, ay, it would mount to somewhat indeed, if they would men. They all take their turns, without any privilege or exception.— 4. Well, I wish you a boat to your mind, and so I'll away with my good news, and leave you; and make what haste ye can, or ye'll be smothered in the cloud.-C. Nay, you will find at least two hundred thousand upon the bank already, besides those that are plunged in the lake. I'll make all the despatch I can, and pray let them know I am coming. PATION. EMANCI bring their wealth along with them. THE following article has been in our As it is not in the nature of time to im C. The woods that were in Elysium | are all destroyed, not so much as a stick left.-A. How so, I beseech you? -C. With burning heretic ghosts. And now, for want of other fuel, we are fain to dig for coal.-A. But these ghosts, methinks, might have been punished cheaper.-C. Rhadamanthus would have it so.-A. And what will you do now for your wherry and oars? -C. I'll look to the helm myself; if the ghosts will not row, let them e'en stay behind.-A. And what shall they do that have ne'er served the trade? -C. Serve or not serve, 'tis all one to me; for I make monarchs and cardinals row, as well as porters and car pair truth, the arguments not only contain all their primitive validity, but they acquire an additional force from their peculiar application to the present crisis.-EDITOR. 66 "SIR,-In taking up my pen to address you on the merits of the Catholic Question, I should apologize for thus intruding upon your columns, did not the vast importance of the subject afford a sufficient plea for my solicitude. "The first point of inquiry that presents itself to our attention is, the real amount of the Roman Catholic claims. We are often told, that the Roman Catholics require nothing but civil liberty; and, were this really the case, justice would support their claim, and in this age of freedom, no degree of power or influence could successfully oppose its being granted; but liberty is not the object of Roman Catholic importunity-for that, the Roman Catholics have, in a perfect equality with the Protestants. Their object is not liberty, but privilege. These have always been viewed as differing most materially from each other. Liberty, in every well-organized community, belongs to all, if it is not forfeited by crime; but privilege belongs only to those in whose hands it is not likely to prove injurious. While liberty, therefore, is enjoyed by all, privilege is justly restricted, and that, too, for the express purpose of securing the general enjoyment of liberty; for if privilege had no limits, while human nature is imperfect, it would frequent |