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I begin to grow weary of talking about myself ; and as I have oba served that listeners and readers, generally get tired before speakers and authors, will here conclude my story. Its moral is completed, and I hope cannot be mistaken. I committed to paper the result of my experience, not for the purpose of ridiculing the infirmities of my fellow creatures, or laughing at the miseries of human life. I wished, if possible, to persuade them that a large portion of the cares of this world, from which we are so anxious to escape, are nothing more than blessings in disguise, and thus to diminish that in ordinate love of riches, which is founded on the silly presumption that they are the sources of all happiness. It is under the dominion of this mistaken idea, that money becomes indeed the root of all evil, by being sought with an insatiable appetite, that swallows up all our feelings of brotherhood, and causes men to prey upon each other like the wild beasts of the forest ; nay, more for even their instinct teaches them to spare their own species. Were mankind aware of the total inability of wealth to confer content, or to make ease and leisure delightful, they would perchance seek it with less avidity, and fewer sacrifices of that integrity, which is a far more essential ingredient in human happiness, than the gold for which it is so often sacrificed. My history may also afford a useful example to those whose situations entail on them the necessity of labour and economy, by teaching them the impossibility of reconciling a life of luxury and ease, with the enjoyment of jocund spirits, lusty health, and rational happiness.
“But what has become of your DYSPEPSY all this time?” the reader will ask.
Faith, I had forgot that entirely!
THE SPANISH NOVICE.
OH! I am sick of laughing day,
And the summer's murmuring shades
How my own youth fades.-
Mocks me with his tardy flight,
All the long night.