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require your presence here forthwith, to partake of the joy which is, I declare it, too much for my philosophy. In the hope of seeing thee soon, my dear Charles,
" I remain
66 John MALONY."
Little need be added. The coach soon rattled me to the vicinity of Cork; and I had the inexpressible pleasure of seeing Jack as happy as love and wealth can make a man. Emma is really a good, a sweet, and a charming bride ; and I am confident that felicity will be her portion with my worthy friend, whose character may be summed up, and estimated, from a few lines he wrote on receiving the compliments of the New-year, from an older and longer known friend than I am.
66 When in the mirror of my brain
I gaze on all the past ;
And view my face aghast !
66 Amidst the ravages of time,
While pains of memory blend,
Thou still art left, my friend !
“My dearest Smyth ! dear since the hour
I knew or hope or fear;
My New Year's day to cheer ;
6 Should I, unmindful of each charm
That hope and reason lend,
The bosom of my friend ?
“ No! duly, night and morn, my knee
With gratitude shall bend,
Life's medicine-a friend."
Jack, deeming an elegant competency all that is requisite for happiness, has made up his mind to trouble the public with no more of his trifles; but he is most anxious that his forthcoming work may reward the excellent and worthy gentleman who treated him with such consideration in the character of a poor author in London. It is true, Jack will not be able, like the literary planets of Paternoster Row, and Ave Maria Lane, to shine with the lustre of sparkling champagne, but in an humble glass of good old port, or over a tumbler of right genuine malt, he will often pledge the companions of his publisher's festive board, and think of the generosity of Old England, and the glory of Great Britain.
In the brief and true story now brought to a close, you may see illustrated these truths, that industry and talent will overcome most difficulties; and that a reliance on the wisdom of Providence, if it do not always experience realization, at least creates patience, sustains fortitude, and cheers us with hope ; and hope often, like prophecy, accomplishes her own predictions.
If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
I have informed you that my children, like their father, are fond of tales and wild stories ; when a guest, therefore, takes up a position with me for a day or two, as my friend Malony did, he is called upon for a story as well as a song. pray, Mr. Malony, do, if you please, sir, tell us an Indian one,” said my boy; “ we like them best.” “ And do, Mr. Malony,” said one of my girls, “ have the goodness, if you please, to recollect one in which Indra and Indranee make a figure. They are such wonderful imaginations, with their elephants, tigers, bush-crowned heads, and peacocks, that I