On the classic pedestal Achieved by thee, Firm, and never failing, shall Thy footing be! And the brightness that will still Thy name enshrine, TAKE THOU AS THE BOON OF GOD TO THEE AND THINE! JACK GAY, ABROAD AND AT HOME. BY LAMAN BLANCHARD. Who that had once met Jack Gay at dinner, where'er the feast of venison and the flow of port prevailed, ever forgot him! What lady, the luckiest of her sex, ever experienced his "delicate attentions" at a quiet evening party, a quiet concert, or a quiet dance, without speaking of him from that moment, not as the most charming of acquaintances, but as a very old friend--without feeling quite sure that she had known him all her life, though she had never seen him but that once? What spirits he had! Other men had their jovial moods, but Jack was always jovial. To be lively by fits and starts, to be delightful when the humour sets in, to emulate the fair exquisite of Pope, "And make a lover happy--_for a whim_--" is within anybody's reach. But Jack had no fits and starts; the humour flowed in one unebbing course, and his whim consisted in making everybody as happy as he was at all seasons. His joviality never depended upon the excellence of a dinner, the choice of wines, or any accident of the hour. His high spirits and invariable urbanity were wholly independent of the arrangements of the table, the selection of the guests, and the topics of conversation. He discovered pleasant things to hearken to, and found delightful themes to chat upon, even during the dreary twenty minutes before dinner. Yes, even _that_ was a lively time to Jack. Whenever he went out it was to enjoy a pleasant evening, and he enjoyed it. The fish was spoil'd, the soup was cold, The meat was broil'd, the jokes were old, The tarts were dumps, the wine not cool, The guests were pumps, the host a fool-- but for all this Jack cared about as much as a flying-fish cares for a shower of rain. No combination of ill omens and perverse accidents ever proved a damper to him.