Mrs. Fitzroy is so genuinely diverted by Mr. Bentley, that they always part the best friends imaginable. He now shook hands and went home. When he was gone, Mr. Otway said of him, "There goes one of the bluntest, and yet the kindest, people I know. It would seem as if Nature, in forming my worthy neighbour, had been playing at hide-and-seek with herself; for in his character there is a jumble of the most heterogeneous materials: rude as a bear, he is gentle as a lamb; and though sly as a fox in detecting the wiles of his species, he is one of the most single hearted persons I have ever met with, in all his own dealings with mankind. The penetration with which he delves into character, is almost supernatural. He decides on a counterfeit at a glance; and though it is rarely his habit to indulge a sentimental vein, you would be astonished by the tenderness of feeling which sometimes softens that rugged exterior. I know him so intimately that I am aware of the contradictions in his mind, and he is not ashamed of being _himself_ with me; but in common society he avoids the least exhibition of softness, and is generally glad when he has frightened strangers by his roughness, though upon _occasion_, if he be in the _humour_, I have known him delighted with individuals, who, not repelled by his frown, have braved opposition, and surmounted the obstacles to his friendship. "Mrs. Fitzroy is a grand favourite, notwithstanding _appearances_, and he told me to-day in his own way of expressing sorrow for her departure, that he expects to be like a fish out of water when she bids farewell to Ireland." The word farewell struck as a knell on every heart: dear Phil. sighed, and wished us good night; and ere we separated to reap the harvest of his blessing, Mrs. Fitzroy, in a few words, but most comprehensively summed up _his_ character.--"Aye," said she, soliloquizing as he left the room, "and there _you_ go! the reviewer of reviews--the critic of critics--possessing more of every quality than you find to admire or value in all the men of your acquaintance, yet bearing your honours so meekly, with a mind so exquisitely balanced, a temperament so calm, and humility so lovely, that you allow anybody to get before you and shine out his short-lived triumph of display, while you in quiet majesty pursue the equal tenor of your course, and, like a mighty river, possessed between its banks, and full, 'though not o'erflowing,' wind onwards to the sea." I close my journal here, and shall not open the portfolio which contains it till I awaken in the unwonted scenery of Grosvenor Square. Adieu, Glenalta! thou sweetest Glen adieu! As I turn from this beloved spot I feel inclined to exclaim, "Fate drop the curtain--I can lose no more."