as in most other parts of the elegancies of life, not very long hence, to place the new on a complete footing with the old country. [Footnote 4: By Lord Mansfield in the King's Bench, in the case of Macklin against Sparks, Miles, Reddish, and others.] [Footnote 5: The audience, whenever an individual hisses against the sense of the house, always silence the offender by crying, "there's a goose in the pit (or wherever it is) turn him out," and if he persists they expel him by force. It is to be hoped our audiences would follow the example. It is frequently necessary.] BIOGRAPHY--FOR THE MIRROR. The passion for inquiring into the lives of conspicuous men is so universally felt, that we cannot help indulging it in cases where not only the person is unknown, but where his actions are so remote, that we can neither form a picture of the one, nor any possible way be affected by the other. The delight with which children themselves read the histories of remarkable characters, and the avidity with which, at every period of life, we read biography, are proofs that this passion has it source in nature, abstracted from any connexion imagined to exist between the object and our own heart. It is, however, more lively when the object lives in our time, and when his actions are the subject of daily conversation in our hearing, or when we have ourselves been witnesses of them; and still more so, when the person being still in existence has found means by the force of his talents to agitate a whole people, to rouse general curiosity and admiration, and to form, as it were, a landmark in any interesting department of civilized life. That mankind, in general, derive greater pleasure from biography than from most other kinds of writing is universally acknowledged. One of the greatest moral philosophers of Britain justly observes, that of all the various kinds of narrative writing, that which is read with the greatest eagerness, and may with the greatest facility and effect be applied to the purposes of life is biography; and the accomplished and sagacious Montaigne, speaking in raptures, upon the same subject, says "Plutarch is the writer after my own heart, and Suetonius is another, the like of whom we shall never see."