Besides, only think, my dear one of Sixteen,

What an emblem this bird, for the epicure's use

meant,

Presents of the mode in which Ireland has been

Made a tid-bit for yours and your brethren's

amusement:

Tied down to the stake, while her limbs, as they quiver,
A slow fire of tyranny wastes by degrees—
No wonder disease should have swell'd up her liver,
No wonder you, Gourmands, should love her
disease.

IRISH ANTIQUITIES.

ACCORDING to some learn'd opinions
The Irish once were Carthaginians;
But, trusting to more late descriptions,
I'd rather say they were Egyptians.
My reason's this: -the Priests of Isis,

When forth they march'd in long array,
Employ'd, 'mong other grave devices,
A Sacred Ass to lead the way*;

And still the antiquarian traces

'Mong Irish Lords this Pagan plan,

For still, in all religious cases,

They put Lord R-d-n in the van.

*To this practice the ancient adage alludes, " Asinus portans mysteria."

A CURIOUS FACT.

THE present Lord K-ny-n (the Peer who writes letters,

For which the waste-paper folks much are his debtors) Hath one little oddity, well worth reciting,

Which puzzleth observers, ev'n more than his writing. Whenever Lord K-ny-n doth chance to behold A cold Apple-pie―mind, the pie must be cold— His Lordship looks solemn (few people know why), And he makes a low bow to the said apple-pie. This idolatrous act, in so "vital" a Peer,

Is, by most serious Protestants, thought rather queer

Pie-worship, they hold, coming under the head (Vide Crustium, chap. iv.) of the Worship of Bread. Some think 'tis a tribute, as author, he owes

For the service that pie-crust hath done to his prose;— The only good things in his pages, they swear, Being those that the pastry-cook sometimes puts

there.

Others say, 'tis a homage, through pie-crust convey'd,
To our Glorious Deliverer's much-honour'd shade;
As that Protestant Hero (or Saint, if you please)
Was as fond of cold pie as he was of green peas *,
And 'tis solely in loyal remembrance of that,
My Lord K-ny-n to apple-pie takes off his hat.
While others account for this kind salutation
By what Tony Lumpkin calls "concatenation;”.
A certain good-will that, from sympathy's ties,
'Twixt old Apple-women and Orange-men lies.

But 'tis needless to add, these are all vague surmises,
For thus, we're assur'd, the whole matter arises :
Lord K-ny-n's respected old father (like many
Respected old fathers) was fond of a penny;
And lov'd so to savet, that-there's not the least
question-

His death was brought on by a bad indigestion,

See the anecdote, which the Duchess of Marlborough relates in her Memoirs, of this polite hero appropriating to himself one day, at dinner, a whole dish of green peas-the first of the season - while the poor Princess Anne, who was then in a longing condition, sat by, vainly entreating, with her eyes, for a share.

†The same prudent propensity characterises his descend

From cold apple-pie-crust his Lordship would stuff in,
At breakfast, to save the expense of hot muffin.
Hence it is, and hence only, that cold apple-pies
Are beheld by his Heir with such reverent eyes—
Just as honest King Stephen his beaver might doff
To the fishes that carried his kind uncle off-
And while filial piety urges so many on,

'Tis pure apple-pie-ety moves my Lord K-ny-n.

ant, who (as is well known) would not even go to the expense of a diphthong on his father's monument, but had the inscription spelled, economically, thus: "Mors janua vita.”