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CHARLES BYRNE

WAS a man, whose powers ever might be truly termed great, and at times striking. He was exactly eight feet high, and after his decease, which occurred on the 1st of June, 1783, he measured eight feet four inches.

His death is said to have been precipitated by excessive drinking, to which he was always addicted, but more particularly since his loss of all his property, which he had invested in a single bank note of 7001.

In his last moments (it has been said) he requested that his ponderous remains might be thrown into the sea, in order that his bones might be placed far out of the reach of the chirurgical fraternity; in consequence of which, the body was shipped on board a vessel to be conveyed to the Downs, to be sunk in twenty fathom water.

The veracity of this report, however, has been questioned, as it is well known at the time of Byrne's decease he excited a great deal of public curiosity, and somebody is suspected of having invented the above, to amuse themselves, and the world at large.

The following story has been related of many tall men, but it certainly originated in the individual now before us; Being necessarily obliged to walk out very early in the morning, or not at all, he used to startle the watchmen, who at that hour were parading the streets, by taking off the tops of the lamps, and lighting his pipe at the flame within.

CHARLES BYRNE

WAS an excellent miniature painter, and born in Dublin, in which city he died about the year 1810. He practised during a short time in London.-With a superior understanding and much benevolence of heart, he mingled a dash of eccentricity, which not unfrequently drew on him the animadversion of his friends, who mistook that for

caprice which was unhappily a constitutional infirmity, and which settled a short time before his death into confirmed insanity.-And many, who as friends or employers have been gratified while sitting to him, or with him, by his animated flow of conversation, and evident excellence of feeling, may perhaps feel pleased should this slight tribute to his memory happen to meet their observation.

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WAS a prototype of her illustrious countrywoman, Constantia Grierson, as in the dead languages we are told "she was critically correct," and was equally well grounded in the modern. Her attainments were not solely literary; the minor, (though perhaps to many) the more interesting and attractive accomplishments of music and its sister arts were her's in perfection. She was possessed of a considerable fortune, but she viewed riches as the means of doing good to others, and her conspicuous superiority to the generality of her sex, was obscured by her excessive diffidence and unconsciousness. She was likewise eminently conspicuous in the exercise of every christian virtue.

She was the eldest daughter of the late Robert Byrne, Esq. of Cabinteely, and died at the premature age of nineteen, in 1814, at the island of Madeira, whither she had repaired for the benefit of her health.

"When age, all patient, and without regret,

Lies down in peace, and pays the general debt,
"Tis weakness most unmanly to deplore
The death of those who relish life no more:
But when fair youth, that every promise gave,
Sheds her sweet blossom in the lasting grave,
All eyes o'erflow with many a streaming tear,
And each sad bosom heaves the sigh sincere."

JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN.

THIS high-gifted individual, whose genius, wit, and eloquence have rendered him an ornament to his age and country, affords a striking instance of the buoyancy of a superior mind on the flood of early adversity; and which, in spite of all impediments, raised him from the humblest state of friendless obscurity, not only to one of the highest stations in the legal profession which he adorned, but to the most honourable distinctions of an independent senator and incorruptible patriot.

Mr. Curran was not a descendant from Irish ancestors; his first paternal stock, in the country so justly proud of his name, was a scion from a northern English family, named CURWEN; who found his way to the sister island as a soldier, in the army of Cromwell; but, from the humble fortunes of his posterity, he does not appear to have been enriched by the spoils of the land he helped to subjugate, like many other adventurers in the train of the usurper, whose descendants have long stood high in rank and fortune. Little more is known of the ancestry of this eminent man, than that his father James Curran filled the humble office of seneschal in the manor court of NewMarket, in the county of Cork, the scanty emolument from which, with the produce of a small farm, were his only resources for the maintenance of a growing family. The maiden name of his wife was Philpot. She was descended of a respectable stock in that county, and although John, her eldest son, who bore also the name of his mother as an additional prenomen, could boast no hereditary talents on the side of his father, whose education and capacity were as humble as his rank; he derived from his mother that native genius, which, moulded by her early example, and cherished by her instruction, laid the basis of that celebrity which afterwards so highly distinguished her favourite boy. Though young Curran from the first dawn of intellect in his puerile days, gave

eminent proofs that the seeds of wit and talents were not sparingly sown in his composition, the humble circumstances of his parents afforded no prospect of an education to bring out the native lustre of his capacity; and but for circumstances wholly fortuitous, he might have lived and died with fame, no higher than that of a village wit, and the chance of succeeding to his father's office.

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Such might have been the fate of Curran, were he placed in any soil less congenial to the growth of his young intellect, or any guidance less favourable than that of a mother, whose native capacity was his best inheritance, whose culture taught his young ideas how to shoot," and whom he loved and venerated to the latest hour of his existence. The village school received him as an early pupil, where he soon evinced a capacity superior to his little ragged companions; and in the hours of play he proved his superiority in all the variegated sciences of marbles and chuckfarthing, and evinced a sportive fancy in all the arch pranks, and practical stratagems of the play-ground. His father, even if he had capacity, had little leisure to attend to the progress of his son's education. The youngster was therefore left to follow his own devices, snd pursue the bent of his humour in every species of lively fun and arch eccentricity. At fairs, where wit and whiskey alternately excited the laugh and the wrangle; at wakes, the last social obsequies to the dead in the village, at which sorrow and mirth in turns beguiled each other, young Curran was always present-now a mime, and now a mourner. prophecies of the more serious began to augur most unfavourably to the future fortunes of young Pickle, while he was the favourite of all the cheerful. The court of his father was quite scandalised, but all acknowledged him the legitimate heir of his mother's wit. A new scene, however, occurred in the amusements of the village, in which young Curran made his début as a principal actor with much éclat to his comic fame, and which through life he took great pleasure to relate as one of his first incentives to eloquence, especially to that part of it which Demos

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thenes urges as the first, second, and third essential to the success of an orator,—namely, action. The itinerant exhibitor of a street puppet-show, in the course of his tour, arrived at New-Market, much to the edification and amusement of the staring crowd; and the comic feats of Mr. Punch, and the eloquence of his man, superseded every other topic of conversation. Unfortunately, however, the second named actor in this drama was seized with sickness, and the whole establishment was threatened with ruin. But little Philpot, who was a constant member of the auditory, and eagerly imbibed at eyes and ears the whole exhibition, proposed himself to the manager, as a volunteer substitute for Punch's man. This offer from so young and promising an amateur, was gladly accepted by the manager, who was well aware of the advantages of an arch young comedian, acquainted with all the characters, and local history of the place; but the young actor declined salary, and only stipulated, that he should remain perfectly incog. and that his name was not to be known, which condition of the treaty the manager faithfully kept. The success of the substitute was quite miraculous; immense crowds attended every performance; the new actor was universally admired, and the crouded audiences were astonished at the knowledge he displayed. He developed the village politics, pourtrayed all characters, described the fairs, blabbed the wake secrets, caricatured the spectators, disclosed every private amour, detailed all the scandal of the village, and attacked with humorous ridicule even the sacerdotal dignity of the parish priest. But this was the signal for general outcry; satire had transgressed its due limits; and men and maidens who laughed at their neighbour's pictures, and pretended to recognise their own, were horrified at such profane familiarity with the clergy. Religion, as on larger theatres, was the scapegoat, and sentence of punishment was unanimously passed on Mr. Punch and his man; the manager, however, kept the grand secret, and his prudence prevented any inquiry after such dangerous celebrity, and Curran, who was

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