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once warmed, some of her shipmates of the proscribed order of ineligibles-–and to smile welcomes for those for whom she feels either in liference or scorn. The lesson may seem difficult, but it is astonishing how soon is is acquire 1. Let any one mark the change which one season in Calcutta, its balls and its buria khanas, and its more insipid morning calls and the exchanges of empty civilities—unmeaning fiddle addie, h is m ode in a young creature whom he may have accompanied to India. The bloom upon her cheeks had failed, the ustre of her bright eyes is slightiy dimmed, but what then —these a little relax to a from mere dissipation, a trip on the river, any slight change of air may soon re-to, e out there is uu power in art, bor any vis the lic it, it nature that can restore the unsophisticated feelin -- whose source, the sacre fount in of the heart, the poisonous intlience of fishion and toily, and the selli-h in axioms of worldliness have polluted for ever. Can any thinking being who has hat a long experience of this society, be at a loss to recal instances of such a elancholy change ; but still they mory and become mothers and leaders of ton-learn to forget their old friends in avour of new get their own daughters out and inculcate the prudence they were such adepts in learning, and thus the tide of society dows on-labilur et labetwr ; but the theme is painful and it is not tendered e-ss) when the walker extends his contemplations to some of the other passengers—aspiring youths perhaps before who e eyes visions of glory float, who are dreaming already of distinction, promotion, wealth ; but who, instead of any ot these, find only in Ludia a premature grave, to which they are consigned ere youth has ripened into manhood,

U.wept, unhonoured and unsung.

The fate of many—too many in this land of promise.

But the walker may see passengers embarking for England, aye these should be objects of pleasing contemplation. What joyful anticipations, swell their hearts. Look at them. The e is a specimen—a man who has held good appointments—trusted no agents— obtained large interest and good security, and worth ten lacs they say, or more, and he is going home to enjoy himself to the society of fieuds, and to distinguish himself, perchance, in the arena of politics, as a defender of the United Rulers, to whom he owes his fortune, and compensate himself for his thrift in India by his display at home. , Such are his day-dreams ; but his sunken eye, hollow cheeks, and patchinent skin, tell audther tale ; he is travelling fifteen thousand miles multum per male jactari, -to find a grave, which he might have found not nuch sooner, and quite as conventent in Chowringhee-squg lying in Chowringhee. He might have goue home, fileen years ago, and then have live, thirty or forty in , his native clime ; but he could not ilave been a Nabob, and have competed with a nobility who despise his pretensions. And so he reinains and goes house rich – to die ; and as for his wealth

To heirs unknown descends th’ unguarded store,
Or wanders heaven directed to the poor.

Some rich Nabob not long ago, it is said, left 50,000 to Bishop's College, too rich already for any good it accomplishes, and lett his relations,—to strave ; but who will say there was not true piety, and true charily a such a legacy. To deprive the relations of wealth on behalf of a Collège, had a two fold virtue in it, it secured the testator's happiness in a world to come, and saved the relatives from a tempt tion whica might have deprived them of such happiness, since the rich, we know, cannot enter the kingdom of beaven, a good-reason by the way why they should. enjoy themselves here below. But the walk is ended, and the bath and the breakfast suggest a new train of reflections, the development of which belongs not to a paper on the Morning Constitutional, therefore reader, vulele

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These specimens of Mr. Sutherland's style, will enable the reader to form his own opinion of that gentleman's merits as a writer. We are quite certain that whatever that opinion may be, it will be much more favorable than Mr. Sutherland's opinion of himself, for we never in our life met with a man who so strangely underrates his own talents, while he overrates those of all his friends. It will, we think, be pretty obvious that he is a clear-headed and kind-hearted man, and that his writings are calculated to serve the cause of truth, to yield innocent entertainment, and to win for him golden opinions from all whose respect and good-will are worth obtaining. As a private indivdual, Mr. Sutherland is respected by all who know him, for the warmth and sincerity of his friendship, his high sense of honor and strict integrity, his hatred of tyranny and injustice, his manly spirit of independence, and the general benevolence and kindly feeling which he displays on all occasions that are calculated to awaken the gentler impulses of the heart.

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The subject of this memoir, although still very young, has done more than enough, both as respects the quality and quantity of his writings, to entitle him to a place in the series of biographical sketches which the Proprietors of this work are giving to the public; although, owing to his not having been ostensibly connected with the Press, he is less known as a literary character than a writer of much less talent and much less fertility might easily have been, had he courted notoriety.

Mr. Kaye was born on the 3d of June 1814. His grandfather and father had held the situation of solicitor to the Bank of England, a situation conferred only on men of high standing in the profession, which involves great responsibility, and yields, we believe, considerable emolument to its possessor. Mr. Kaye's father, as a member of a liberal profession, had, fortunately, the means, as he had naturally the desire, to secure for his children, a liberal education. Mr. J. W. Kaye, the son of whom we have now to speak, was educated chiefly at a large private school, kept by Dr. Radcliffe, at Salisbury. He seems to have manifested a taste for literature, and to have commenced babits of composition at a very early period of life, for it is known to some of his friends, that when he was about thirteen or fourteen years of age, he contributed, both in prose and verse, to a work which was got up at the school and printed periodicallv, called the Horae Sarisburienses. The youthful contributor seems to have limited himself to no particular subject or tone, but, to have written on whatever occurred to his youthful mind, ranging in fancy free,

From grave to gay, from lively to severe,

with the versatility of a clever boy, and a volatility which belongs to the happy days of boyhood. We regret that we are unable to give a specimen or two of these first attempts of our youthful author, because there is both pleasure and instruction in tracing the gradual development of a mind and of talents like Mr. Kaye's. Had we possessed any of these boyish effusions, we should have quoted them without fear of the sneers or sarcasms of the hypercritical, assured that men of candour and good sense would justly appreciate them, and also our motive in placing them before our readers. The fashion of treating as contemptible all boyish productions, has very nearly exploded since the publication of the Etonian, and the severe castigation which Byron bestowed on the Edinburgh Reviewers. When we come to speak of Mr. Kaye's productions, we shall have occasion to refer to some written at a sufficiently early age to enable our readers to draw an inference as to what he might have written at fourteen; but at present we resume our personal sketch of him.

Mr. Kaye appears to have made very considerable advances in his education at the school at Salisbury; as he is a good classical scholar, and his acquirements in general literature are sufficiently extensive to warrant the conclusion that they must have been commenced even at school; and if so, unless Dr. Radcliffe is an exception to the general rule, applicable to our English school-masters, the fact speaks highly for the taste and industry of the subject of this memoir; for it must be admitted, that the amount of general information acquired at most English seminaries, is lamentably scanty. , We are convinced that at many schools in India, the Hindu boys would, in this respect, put to shame English youths of high standing at those of Great Britain.

With the circumstances which led Mr. Kave's father to think of sending him into the military service of India, we are not acquainted; but, in January 1831, he went to Addiscombe as a cadet, remained there the usual period of two or three years, and passed out in the Artillery. He arrived in India in September 1833, and had not been long in the country ere he became a regular contributor to the Calcutta Literary Gazette, then edited by D. L. R. It was in the beginning of the year 1834 that Mr. Kaye commenced his literary career in that Journal, for which he wrote a series of essays, of the merits of which we shall hereafter have occasion to speak. In the rains of that year, he had no less than three severe attacks of fever, the latter of which so much alarmed his medical attendants, that they pronounced his return home indispensable ; and he, according to their advice, embarked for England, on board the Mountstuart Elphinstone, in August.

Our acquaintance with Mr. Kaye commenced soon after his first essay appeared in the Literary Gazette. It appeared to us that his reading, with reference to his age, was quite extraordinary : he seemed to have dipped, at least, into all kinds of books, aud into some very extraordinary books. His penchant for our older dramatists was very peculiar. He seemed, indeed, to be as enthusiastic an admirer of their productions as Charles Lambe ; but the power of inemory, and the discrimination in poetry which he evinced, struck us as most remarkable in one so young, and led us out into some enquiry as to his means of reading, and the manner in which he passed lis time. We learned that he had a very small, thou. h very select, library of his own, and that he devoted every leisure hour to the reading and digesting his books, and to writing; but what we admired more in Mr. Kaye-far more than these indications of talents and acquirements, of which he has since afforded more unequivocal aud more durable proofs, were the evidences we had constantly before us, of his capacity to rise superior to pejudice, and to be, not only just but generous in his judgments of others, in spite of a tendency which we thought we then discovered in him, to be a little egotistical and self sufficient, a fault very natural and very excusable in a very young wrier, and a very young man. We should not say this, without some trepidation, of some men in this community, to whom the remark more forcibly applies than it did to Mr. Kaye; but we know well that a “change has cone o'er the spirit of his dream,” and that he himself feels, as strongly as we can do, that he may truly say, as indicating not decline but a change tor the better, “non sum qualiseram,” and we believe, that no man is less likely to be offended with our remark than he to whom it is applied. We were particularly struck with his ardent admiration of the poetry of Shelley, his sympathy with the noble sentiments accasionally promulgated in it, and with the ill-fated poet's passionate love of mankind, which everywhere pervades his writings, not less, but most conspicuously, perhaps, in those in which the course of his winged thoughts is most erratic; but, above all, we were most deeply touched with Mr. Kaye's enlarged charity to Shelley, and to all men. A firm believer himself in the truths of revelation, he could allow for the errors of his brother worms, and his high sense of justice prevented him from ever permitting differences of creed or caste, to interfere with his estimate of the intellectual or even moral merits of his fellow creatures. This is a fine feature in Mr. Kaye's character, which, surprizing as it was in one so young, his further experience has only tended to strengthen. Circumstances have occurred to confirm his belief in Divine revelation, but religion in him ever wears a cheerful aspect, and is and ever will be, we hope, too truly Christian to become intolerant. It would be a happy circumstance for Christianity, especially in this Pagan

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