shore, and cast our eyes over the expanse of its waters, till the sky and the waves seem to mingle, all that the eye can take in one survey, is but an inconsiderable speck, less than the hundred thousandth part of the whole of this vast abyss. If every drop of water can be divided into 26 millions of distinct parts, as some philosophers have demonstrated, what an immense assemblage of watery particles must be contained in the unfathomable caverns of the ocean! Here the powers of calculation are completely set at defiance; and an image of infinity, immensity, and endless duration, is presented to the mind. This mighty expanse of waters is the grand reservoir of Nature, and the source of evaporation, which enriches the earth with fertility and verdure. Every cloud which floats in the atmosphere, and every fountain and rivulet, and flowing stream, are indebted to this inexhaustible source for those watery treasures which they distribute through every region of the land. In fine, whether we consider the ocean as rearing its tremendous billows in the midst of the tempest, or as stretched out into a smooth expanse-whether we consider its immeasurable extent, its mighty movements, or the innumerable beings which glide through its rolling waves-we cannot but be struck with astonishment at the grandeur of that Omnipotent Being who holds its waters "in the hollow of his hand," and who has said to its foaming surges, "Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed." BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. HENRY KIRKE WHITE. There are few men with names inscribed on the imperishable records of genius, whose lives present a more melancholy subject for reflection, than that of Henry Kirke White. Endowed with poetical talents of the first description, and possessing that shrinking modesty and over-refinement of feeling which so frequently are the result of a poetical temperament, he had to struggle with poverty and obscurity until, in the language of Byron's beautiful description of him, "Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel, This delightful poet was born in Nottingham, March 21, 1785. His father was a tradesman in that city. He early discovered a great desire for reading; and, it is said by his biographers, that when he was about seven years of age, he would creep unperceived into the kitchen, to teach the servant to read and write; a practice he continued for some time before it was discovered that he had been so laudably employed. It was the intention of his father, to bring him up to his own business; but his mother, who was a woman of respectable family and superior acquirements, overcame her husband's desire, and made every effort to procure him a good education, and with this intention and by the request of her friends, she opened a lady's boarding and day school at Nottingham, in which she succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations; and by these means accomplished her wishes. It was, however, at length determined to make him acquainted with some trade; and as hosiery is the staple manufacture of his native place, he was placed in a stocking-loom, at the age of fourteen. This employment was entirely uncongenial to his taste, and rendered him truly unhappy his feelings at this period are portrayed in his address to Contemplation. His mother, who was the repository of all his boyish sorrows, was extremely anxious to have him removed to some other business; and on his attaining his fifteenth year, had him placed in an attorney's office; but as no premium could be given with him, he was not articled until two years afterwards. The law was now the chief object of his attention; but during his leisure hours he acquired a knowledge of Greek and Latin, and also made himself master of many of the modern languages. These employments, with the study of chemistry, astronomy, drawing, and music, of which he was passionately fond, served as relaxations from the dry study of the law. He now became a member of a literary society in Nottingham, where his superior abilities procured him to be elected a professor of literature. He wrote occasionally for the Monthly Preceptor, (a miscellany of prose and poetical compositions,) and gained a silver medal for a translation from Horace; and, the following year, a pair of twelve-inch globes, for an imaginary tour from London to Edinburgh. These little testimonies of his talents were grateful to his feelings, and urged him to further efforts, accordingly, we find him contributing to the Monthly Mirror, which fortunately procured him the friendship of Mr. Capel Lloft, and Mr. Hill, the proprietor of the work. An anecdote is related of him, during his connexion with this work, which is highly interesting. His modesty prevented him from confiding the efforts of his muse to any other criticism than that of his own family. They, however, were proud of the young poet's talents, and would occasionally show portions of his works to their friends. The natural envy which genius is sure to excite, prevented these pieces from being justly appreciated, and Henry was subjected to some ridicule on their account. One friend, in particular, was extremely sarcastic on the occasion, and calling on the family one day, while the poet was present, he produced a number of the Monthly Mirror, and directed Henry's attention to a poem, which it contained, saying, "when you can write like this, you may set up for a poet." White cast his eyes over the article, and found it was one of his own performances. He informed his friend of the fact ; and it may well be imagined experienced no small gratification in thus disarming the satire of his ungenerous antagonist. At the request of Mr. Hill, he was induced, at the close of 1802, to publish a small volume of poems, with the hope that the profits might enable him to prosecute his studies at College, and qualify him to take holy orders, for which he had a strong inclination. He was persuaded to dedicate the work to the Countess of Derby, the once fascinating actress, Miss Farren, to whom he applied; but she returned a refusal, on the ground that she never accepted such compliments. Her refusal was, however, couched in kind and complimentary language, and enclosed two pounds as her subscription. The Duchess of Devonshire was next applied to, who, after a deal of trouble, consented but took no further notice of the author. He enclosed a copy of his little work to each of the then existing Reviews, stating, in a feeling manner, the disadvantage under which he was struggling, and requesting a favourable and indulgent criticism. The Monthly Review, then a leading journal, affected to sympathize with the penury and misfortune of the author, but spoke in such illiberal and acrimonious terms of the production, as to inflict a wound on his mind which was never wholly cured. Ample justice was subsequently done to his memory, through this very review, by the laureate Southey, whose "Life and remains of White" is justly considered an ornament to British biography. He now determined to devote himself to the church. His employers agreed to cancel the articles of his apprenticeship, and freely gave up the portion of the time that remained unexpired, and further exerted themselves in his behalf. The difficulties that presented themselves were numerous. At length, with the aid of a few friends, he was enabled to enter the University of Cambridge; where his intense application to study speedily brought on an alarming disease, which at length terminated in his death, on Sunday, October 19, 1830. A generous tribute to his worth and talents has been paid to his memory by Francis Boot, Esq. of Boston, who, on a visit to Cambridge, caused a splendid monument, executed by Chantry, to be erected in AllSaint's church, Cambridge; and which remains as a striking contrast to the apathy and neglect with which the unfortunate poet was treated during his life. THE INDIANS-THE TEN LOST TRIBES. (Continued from page 65.) It is matter of deep and lasting regret, that the character of the Indians, who occupied this wide-spread and goodly heritage, when men of pale faces came over the pierceless solitudes of the mighty ocean, with their large canoes, and were received with all the kindly feelings of native innocence-I say that it is deeply to be regretted, that their character should be so grossly misrepresented and misunderstood. They have been accused of cruelty and perfidy of the basest nature-of crimes and vices of the most degrading cast. Again and again are the people of this happy land referred back to the period of its early settlement, and their attention directed to the smoking ruins of villages, and the cries of suffering and distress. Scenes like these, I grant, are sufficient to harrow up the mind; but in contemplating the sufferings of their early brethren, the whites seem almost to forget the corroding sorrows of the poor Indians-the wrongs and calamities which were heaped upon them. Follow them into the deep recesses of their wilderness solitudes-hear their long and loud complaints, when driven by the pale faces whom they had kindly received, and cheerfully, in the fulness of their friendship sustained through days, and months of sorrow, and want, and affliction,-from their happy homes, the resting place of their fathers. Can you wonder, friends, that they should have resisted, manfully, against the encroachment of their white neighbours? But I think that history declares, that when this continent was first discovered, that its inhabitants were a harmless, inoffensive, obliging people. They were alike free from the blandishments and vices of civilized life. They received the strangers from the "world beyond the waters," with every token of esteem; highminded, noble, generous, and confident to a fault, they placed implicit confidence in the professions of their visiters; they saw not the aim and design of the white |