cultivating active benevolence, or a just appreciation of real worth. In contrasting the characters of Tom Jones and Sir Charles Grandison, with those of the Duke of Sully and Lord Clarendon, we observe a striking difference between the real and fictitious personages; yet, the mere novel reader is neither improved nor amused in reading the lives of these illustrious characters, while the tear of sympathy steals down his cheek, as he pores over the imaginary sufferings of the heroes and heroines of romance. There are, I know, many novels to which the above observations do not apply, particularly some of modern date, which are very superior to those above mentioned; but still the best, even of these, present overcharged pictures of real life, and, in proportion as they are fascinating, they indispose the mind to more serious reading.

I now engaged with Mr Gordon, Editor of the Belfast News-Letter, to deliver the papers to subscribers on the days of publication. Half a dozen papers, and two shillings per week, were my wages in this service. The papers I lent to tradesmen at a halfpenny an hour, and when the time allotted to the first set of customers was expired, it afforded me an agreeable exercise to collect and distribute them to others. While in this employment, I had sometimes to go four or five miles into the country, but, having an accurate knowledge of the surrounding neighbourhood, and being well acquainted with every gentleman's seat in the vicinity of Belfast, however remotely situated from the public road, I was able to execute my business with exactness and despatch.

I hope the account of the following adventure will

be acceptable to my readers, as it will illustrate what I have said, respecting my perambulations through the town and neighbourhood where I was reared.

On a winter's evening, in 1797, as I stood in one of the principal streets, I was accosted by a person, who, in the southern accent, enquired its name. After I had imparted the desired information, he told me that he was a soldier, and belonged to a detachment of the Limerick Militia, which had marched into Belfast that day. "I went out," said he, "to look for the sergeant, to get the pay, and being a stranger in the town, I lost myself; I left my wife and my firelock in the lodging house, and I forgot the name both of the street and of the people that own the house. I have been wandering about these two or three hours, and nobody can tell me where they are." I enquired, if he had observed any particular building near the place where he left his wife. "I believe," replied he, "after turning one or two corners, I observed a church." I considered for a moment, in which of the streets in that quarter there was a lodging house, and recollected that a Mrs. Tawny kept a house of entertainment in William-street. I bade him follow me, and took good care to keep before him, that he should not discover that I was blind. At that time there were no houses on the S. W. side of William-street; and fronting the houses on the N. E., there was a deep ditch, which served as a receptacle for all the nuisances of the neighbourhood. As the night was very dark, and there were no lamps in that direction, his eyes were of no service to him whatever; consequently he resigned himself entirely to my guid

ance. We had to cross the puddle already mentioned, by six stepping stones; and though there was no danger whatever of being drowned, it was more than probable that, had the soldier got a dip, his plight, on coming out, would have been far different from that in which he appeared at parade. I groped with my staff for the first stepping stone, and getting on it, I took hold of his hand, and bade him put his foot where mine was, warning him at the same time, of the consequence of not balancing well. In this manner I conducted him from one stone to another, till I landed him safely on the opposite side, and was highly diverted to hear him observe, that my eyes were better than his. I brought him to Mrs. Tawny's, and left him standing at the door, while I went in to make the necessary enquiry. I soon learned that I had guessed right, for I found his wife almost in despair at his absence, but I bade her be of good cheer, for I had brought her husband to her; and so saying, I called him in. His wife was rejoiced to see him again, and saluted him by crying out, "Bless me, dear Barney, where have you been? I thought you were lost!"-" Arrah, my dear, I couldn't find my way back," said he, "if it hadn't been for this decent man, that shewed me the house." "And more shame for you," said the landlady, "for you have your eyesight, and yet you must be guided to your lodging by a blind man." On hearing this, they were both astonished, and began heartily to bless themselves. As their astonishment, however, subsided, the hospitality of their Irish hearts began to display itself; for, on discovering that I was only a mortal being, and

partook of the same nature and appetites as themselves, I was cordially pressed to stay and partake of the fare, that Barney, in all his peregrinations through the streets, had taken good care to bring safely to his wife. I, however, declined the kind offer, and left them to drink their tea themselves, and enjoy the happiness that succeeds, when groundless fears and trivial disappointments have vanished away.

At this time the French Revolution gave a sudden turn to the posture of affairs in Europe, and every mail which arrived brought an account of some important change in the political state of that unhappy country. All the powers on the Continent now armed against France, and she, on her part, received them with a firmness which reflected honour upon her arms. The public mind at this period was agitated, and the wisest politicians of the day were filled with alarm, and dreaded the consequences which were likely to result, from a revolution that threatened every government in Europe with a total overthrow. For my part, I had little to lose as an individual, and the only concern I felt was for the safety of my country; politics therefore became my favourite study, and I soon got acquainted with the passing news of the day.

A late writer, in speaking of memory, calls it "the storehouse of the mind;" but it has often been compared to a well-constructed arch, on which the more weight is laid, the stronger it becomes. This I found to be the case with mine, for the more I committed to it, the more I found it was capable of receiving and retaining. In what manner ideas of extrinsic objects, and notions of certain relations, can be preserved in

the mind, it is impossible to determine; but we are sure that the thing is so, though the manner be unknown to us. As ideas and recollections are merely immaterial things, which can in no wise partake of the known properties of matter, so, the receptacle in which they are lodged, myst be of a similar nature. That matter and spirit are united, we have no reason to doubt; for the pleasures of memory, in the moment of reflection, are evidently operative on the body, inasmuch as its motions and gestures are expressive of the inward feelings of the mind. As the memory, therefore, is more or less capacious, as the store of ideas laid up there is greater or less, and as they are pleasing or unpleasing in themselves, so the impressions derived from memory, are either powerful or weak either pleasing or painful. As my taste always inclined to literature, and the knowledge of things valuable in themselves, the remembrance of them is, consequently, a never failing source of amusement to me, whether I be found "in the void waste, or in the city full."

"Oh, Memory! how pure, how exquisite are thy pleasures! "To thee, and to thy sister Hope, the bright handmaids who "support us through the rude path of existence, how deeply "6 are all men indebted!"

It was now, indeed, that I was able to appreciate the pleasures of memory in a superior degree, for I knew the names, stations, and Admirals, of almost all the ships in the navy, and was also acquainted with the number, facing, and name of every regiment in the army, according to the respective towns, cities, or shires from which they were raised. I served, of course, as an Army and Navy List for the poor in