Elisina in her trunck, &c.-There are to be seen low Automatons, who will dance up on a rope and sall do the most difficul tricks. The Spectacle will be ended with a Pantasmagory, who sall be disposed in a manner as not to frighten the ladies." In books the same accurate acquaintance with our language is often discernible. Gen. Pillet learnedly remarks, that the lowest class of our Attorneys are the Petty Fogey. However, this Gentle man's misrepresentation of our language is nothing to his misrepresentation of our manners. He gravely assures his readers, that the Archbishop of Canterbury ordedered the following prayer against the French to be used in all churches.

(P.371.) " O Lord almighty, give us the power to destroy even unto the last man this perfidious people, who have sworn to devour us alive, us thy faithful servants."

A translation of Buchan's Domestic Medicine, orders " a decoction of the heads of Puppies, instead of Poppy-heads, and a poor woman physicking one of her children with this decoction, made it almost vomit its heart out.

The following items are taken from a bill of fare at a restaurateurs in the Palace Royal:

"Peas soup, with some fried bread cut into dice-pigs' foot, crumbled and boiled-young artichokes served raw with oil and vinegar-cold sliced beef and potatoes, served with oil and vinegar a duck's quarter with turnips-fried bits of fowl-pickled fowl-Cod mashed with oil and garlic-macaroni not baked sooner ready.

To make up for this, however, in the list of liquors to be taken after dinner are the following exquisite compounds!

"Oil of Roses " and " Perfect Love!" Hibernian Journal.

Correspondence.

lowing in your Magazine. Romantic as the tale may appear to be, I believe there is little doubt of the fact; for it is an almost universally admitted tradition, and corresponds not only with the character of that unfortunate nobleman who is the hero of the legend, but I may say with the history of the time when it is alleged to have happened.

The last Lord SANTRY of the kingdom of Ireland, was sentenced to the block for the murder* of a coachman, but not executed. He died in banishment, and the title became extinct. SANTRY, the ancient and beautiful residence of him and his ancestors, is about four miles from Dublin, and lies about half a mile from the well known Popish Chapel of BALLYMUN. The profligacy of this young lad was so great a nuisance in his own immediate neighbourhood, that the Priest of BALLYMUN thought it became his duty to take notice of it from the altar, which coming to the ears of his Lordship, greatly amused him. To annoy the "old rascal," became now not only his darling entertainment, but the entertainment of his equally giddy companions. About a million of tricks were practised upon the "Priest of Ballymun!!"-His Reverence, who did not relish“ such jokes," commenced a most vindictive attack upon his Lordship. Every Sunday and every holiday produced some dreadful exposé and denunciation against poor Lord Santry, until, in fact, he was the "raw-head and bloody-bones" of the country. But, terrible man, the more Ballymun" was exasperated, the more "Santry" was delighted. This contest raged for a considerable time, until his Reverence publicly declared his noble neighbour to be incurable, and that he most certainly had to " do with (Lord save us!) the DEVIL!!!" Upon the arrival of this intelligence, my Lord "Incorrigible" and his companions were in such extacies, that his Lordship wrote to Father "Vinegar" his compliments, saying "Oh, yes! the Devil and he were extremely intimate; upon such

66

LORD SANTRY.

Mr. EDITOR OF THE TICKLER MAGAZINE,-As Irish Catholic anecdotes are so much in season, and, as the affairs of Ireland are likely to become more interesting than they have for some time been, you may probably insert the fol

very shortly to introduce him (the Black

* P.S. I cannot say, historically, what was this case of murder; but the tradition

is, that it was the murder of a hackney coachman, who had driven hisLordship from Dublin to Santry. The tradition is a very curious tale, if it be true!!!

Gentleman) at the Chapel of Ballymun!!" The audacity of this " diabolical letter" put the Priest almost "out of his mind" he was outrageous!! He not only read it from the altar, and posted a copy of it on the chapel door, but in his rage, he wrote back to my Lord Santry, defying both him and the Devil, and threatening what he would not do, if he dare to bring the black rascal to BALLYMUN!! This silly answer threw his Lordship into transports. It was communicated with all due dispatch to the Club, who were determined, be the consequence what it might, to try the courage of this Match for the Devil, the PRIEST OF BALLYMUN!!! On a certain Christmas Eve, Santry House had mustered all the profligates of the day. Now was the time for a Christmas trick-now was the time to frighten the lost P. P. out of his wits!! One of the most solemn festivals of the Romish Church is " Midnight Mass," on Christmas Eve. Be the weather what it may-from the most distant parts of the parish-over ditch and bog, through wood and forest, assemble the parishioners to "MIDNIGHT MASS !!!" It was a bitter night of snow and storm-the chapel of Ballymun crowded almost to suffocation, and the Reverend antagonist of the Lord of the soil in the midst of his "Midnight Mass."---when in rushed, in his full dress livery, a servant from the HALL, with a loud voice exclaiming-" My Lord Santry and the--Devil!!!" The shock was the shock of an earthquake; but before the congregation could start from their knees, in stalked my Lord Santry, leading by the hand a naked BLACK figure, flourishing in his other hand a flaming torch. The screams and the crush to escape was terrific,--the Priest called in vain for help. It was, (6 every one for himself;" and in a few moments the chapel contained only those who were trodden down or had fainted. In the confusion, his Lordship and Co. escaped. The whole congregation, Priest and Laity, verily believed that Lord Santry had actually raised the Devil, and had, out of revenge, brought him to the chapel of Ballymun! It seems his Lordship had procured the black servant of some of his friends to perform, "for that night only"---the DEVIL!! Blacks were not then very common in Ireland, and had never been even dreamt of at simple Ballymun. There is not a granny, for miles round Santry, but will

An pipi kauld im Robin Hood,

Sic outlawz hi an his men,
Vil England never see again.

Obit 24. Kal. Decembris 1247.

Essays.

THE LADIES.

(Translated from the French.)

Taz critics of the fair sex tell us, they are vain, frivolous, ignorant, coquettish, capricious, and what not. Unjust that we are, it is the fable of the lion and the man; but since the ladies have become authors, they can take their revenge, were they not too generous for such a passion. Though they have learnt to paint, their sketches of man are gentle and kind, but if the ladies were what surly misanthropes call them, who is to blame?--Is it not we who spoil---who corrupt---who seduce them?

1s it surprising that a pretty woman should be vain when we daily praise to her face her charms, her taste, and her wit? Can we blame her vanity when we tell her, that nothing can resist her attractions---that there is nothing so barbarous which she cannot soften---nothing so elevated that she cannot subdue; when we tell her that her eyes are brighter than day, that her form is fairer than summer--more refreshing than spring; that her lips are vermillion; that her skin combines the whiteness of the lily with the incarnation of the rose?

Do we censure a fine woman as frivolous, when we unceasingly tell her that no other study becomes her but that of varying her pleasures; that she requires no talent but for the arrangement of new parties; no ideas beyond the thought of the afternoon's amusement? Can we blame her frivolity, when we tell her that her hands were not made to touch the needle, or to soil their whiteness in domestic employments? Can we blame her frivolity, when we tell her that the look of seriousness chases from her cheek the dimple, in which the loves and the graces wanton; that reflection clouds her brow with care, and that she who thinks, sacrifices the smile that makes beauty charm, and the gaiety that ren

ders wit attractive?

How can a pretty woman fail to be ignorant, when the first lesson she is taught is, that beauty supersedes and dispenses with every other quality, that all she needs to know is, that she is pretty; that to be intelligent, is to be pedantic, and that to be more learned than one's

neighbour, is to incur the reproach of absurdity and affectation?

Shall we blame her for being a coquette, when the indiscriminate flattery of every man teaches her, that the homage of one is as good as that of another? It is the same darts, the same flames, the same beaux, the same coxcombs. The man of sense, when he attempts to compliment, recommends the art of the beau, since he condescends to do with awkwardness what a monkey can do with grace. With all she is a goddess, and to her all men are equally mortals. How can she prefer, when there is no merit, or be constant when there is no superiority?

Is she capricious? Can she be otherwise, when she hears that the universe must be proud to wait her commands; that the utmost of a lover's hopes is to be the humblest of her slaves; that to fulfil the least of her commands, is the highest ambition of her adorers?

And are women so unjust, as to censure the idols made by their own hands? Let us be just---let us begin the work of reformation. When men cease to flatter, women will cease to deceive; when men are wise, women will be wise to please.

The ladies do not force the taste of the men; they only adapt themselves to it; they may corrupt, and be corrupted; they may improve, and be improved.

into her head to break my heart; for I was obliged to attend her to church, to the play, &c.

MASTER. Was not your master a proud man?

TERRY. The proudest man in the kingdom? for he would not do a dirty action for the universe.

MASTER. What age are you now? TERRY. I am just the same age of Paddy Lahy; he and I were born in a week of each other.

MASTER. How old is he?

TERRY. I can't tell; nor I don't think he can tell himself.

MASTER. Were you born in Dublin? TERRY. No, Sir, I might if I had a mind; but I preferred the country. And, please God, if I live and do well, I'll be buried in the same parish I was born in. MASTER. You can write I suppose? TERRY. Yes, Sir, as fast as a dog ean

trot.

MASTER. Which is the usual mode of travelling in this country?

TERRY. Why, Sir, if you travel by water, you must take a boat. And if you travel by land, either in a chaise, or on horseback; and those that can't afford either one or t'other, are obliged to trudge it on foot.

MASTER. Which is the pleasantest season for traveling?

TERRY. Faith, Sir, I think that season in which a man has most money in his purse.

MASTER. I believe your roads are passably good.

TERRY. They are all passable, Sir, if you pay the turnpike.

MASTER. I am told you have an immense number of horned cattle in this country.

TERRY. Do you mean cuckolds, Sir? MASTER. No, no: I mean black cattle. TERRY. Faith, we have, Sir, plenty of every colour.

MASTER. But I think it rains too much in Ireland.

TERRY. So every one says: but Sir Boyle says, he will bring in an act of parliament in favour of fair weather; and I am sure the poor hay-makers and turf-cutters will bless him for it. God bless him: it was he that first proposed that every quart bottle should hold a quart.

MASTER. As you have many fine rivers, I suppose you have abundance of fish.