malignity or ill feeling to those who were most quizzed.

You will accept them as some proof of my sincere and affectionate appreciation of your noble qualities— your genius cast in the classic mould of Antiquity— your goodness which endears you to all-your excellent and delightful disposition which like some bright sunshine sheds happiness around you. My admiration of you has been of old standing. It was deep and devoted while I was yet a stranger to you, but since I knew you it has warmed into enthusiasm. Eight years ago when you honoured me with some letters, I remember that I expressed a wish to manifest to you my esteem and respect by something more than a mere profession. How enchanted am I that the time has at length arrived; and that even in this trivial manner I am enabled to put my sentiments on record; and to boast with pride, that among those who regard me and rank me among their friends, I should reckon the illustrious author of Ion.

BELIEVE ME TO BE,

DEAR SERJEANT TALFOURD

TRULY AND EVER YOUR'S,

EDWARD KEnealy.

Lectori S.

Quoniam vidi et scio multos sibi sapientes videri, et tamen insipientia sua oleum et operam perdere; ideo ex latebris et umbris meis redire in conspectum aliqnando volui, et mei non similibus suam ostendere sapientiam; ut videant me non frustra ridere, sed ridenda proponere, non nugas illicitas. sed doccntia veritatem et sinceritatem að cavendum vanitatem. Attendite qui lepidi et lepidis honeste utimini; qui vero melancholici estis, ex a me adductis recreationem capientes, mentem sanam sequimini, quoniam semper verum est: Ridentem dicere verum quid vetat? Vale.

Sonnet.

TO MRS. W. F.

My summer task is ended-the sweet labour

Thou oft hast heard me speak of is complete :Songs rudely cast for rustic pipe and tabor

Wild quips, and sportive jests and fancies, meet

Here in this little book, that at thy feet

Like some meek suppliant lies. O! ladye fair
If there be aught within this little tome
Worthy to win one passing thought of thine,

Thou art the cause ;-thy songs of beauty rare,

The pleasant days pass'd in thy happy home

Of roses, myrtle, and green eglantine,

Thy smiles-thy sweet, sweet talk-and angel-heart,

And loveliness, and goodness all divine,

These have inspired the Poet's gentle art.

August 17, 1844.