DOCTOR.

So then you wrote Nestor's Feast, and my dear friend I wish you joy of it, for I envy you, I would give my Catholicus Ipse reputation for that Feast of yours, there is such a cutting, sneering, hinting, hitting, evading, beautiful manner of doing scoundrels, that I am sure no man ever did it but a fellow that does not appear often. Do you know that there is a great deal of Junus in it ?

JACK.

Do you tell me so Doctor?-My dear friend, I can speak to you as a friend and one who hates that old fox, that old scoundrel, you know who I mean, that blaguard, impudent, resuming coxcombical empty jacknapes, old Keogh, at Mount Jerome. Now my dear candid friend, I trust to you my bosom, it is an expression in Tryal's All, that wonderful composition which decided the low taste of Dublin, that hissed its best comedy. This feast my dear Dr. was written, I must say, not altogether by myself, but by a friend of mine, the initials of whose name are J. L. and upon my honor, I shall tell him how much you admire it-Good God-who is that coming up?

DOCTOR.

That is old Charly Walsh the bailiff, and Tom Day the horney, but do you remark this

JACK.

edited. A

clination for 30 years, and also composed a new and interesting article on the magnetic needle, which render Wogan's last publication of these useful works superior to any ever before treatise on Geography and Astronomy of my own, a great part of which is original matter, then also occupied no small share of my attention. Thus circumstanced the diaries were committed to the printer's hands. It happened that the gentleman who for some years past set these almanacks in type, and consequently was acquainted with the forms, cases, and printing materials of Mr. Wogan's Office, declined the work last year; there were in consequence five successive compositors employed before the completion of the job.

different sorts of almanacks, one is of a Mr. Wogan annually publishes three duodecimo size, which besides the calendar and fairs contains a variety of other matters, to this as being the most consequential I paid every attention; from this duodecimo one, another, called the sheet almanack is compiled and printed: and also a called the pocket-calendar smaller one comprises the third kind; this as being the least in size and general circulation is, consequently of the least importance.

The forms of all those calendars are always standing and remain set in type, and the first alteration I made, was that of erasing Mr. Morton's name as calculator

IRISH ALMANACS.

(Continued from Page 477 of last Month's Magazine.)

Besides the trouble of consulting the writings of Bacon, Plott, Derham, Clarke, Werle, Cunningham, Locke, and more especially the meteorological observations of our countryman Kirwan, whose literary and philosophical labours will be admired while science exists, in order to collect materials for those prognostics of the weather; I was then employed in edit ing four other works, for Messrs. Wogan, Coyne, B. Smyth, and myself. To Wettenhall's Greek Grammar, in the improvement of which I was at that time particularly engaged, I added above sixty new examples. For Gibson's treatise on surveying I adapted tables for the Sun's de

piler, in its place: yet in the frontispiece of the small pocket almanack, that gentleman's name remained unaltered though cancelled in my copy, nor was it discovered till a number of them, whether the whole or part I know not, were committed to the press and worked off.

To all those acquainted with printing, it is well known how difficult it is to prevent typographical errors, especially in blank line or rule work. The compart

ments of almanacks are all of this sort. The form on the least stir is subject to the accidents of type falling out, &c. therefore the press-work should be repeatedly inspected; in consequence of an inattention to this, some errors have crept into the small almanack alluded to: some more have arisen through inadver tence, some have originated from a close adherence to Morton's plan, &c. but all these affect not the public at large. For the common purposes and conveniencies of life it is extremely fortunate that man's wants depend not on mathematical precision, or the accuracy of intricate calculation.

Celestial train, as in my early days,

For thee I sighed! for thee alone could

please!

Bring all thy graces, all thy numbers bring,

Of Erin's woes, of Erin's sorrow sing! Behold her Sons, the glory of the world Torn from the plough, to field-of-battle hurled!

See every branch of Mechanism still; Lonesome as night, or echo on the hill. All to the war, must cross the faithless deep,

Their wives and children left behind to weep.

Unhappy Land! in evil hour decreed, To starve thy own, and feed a foreign breed!

Our fields, where Plenty smiles and Ceres reigns,

Feed and support the slaves that forge our chains.

A Nation, once renowned on every shore, Struck from the list! a Nation now no more!!!

The love of glory, now no longer known, Affrighted, fled from despotism's throne. A People, prostrate, struggling in the storm,

Noble, tho' slaves! oh! see their manly

In every part, see gaol or barrack rise, While huts and hamlets, all in ruin lies. Which way so e'er we turn, the sight alarms,

"Creation brightens in the gleam of

arms."

From passing hosts, see clouds of dust arise,

Deforming all the landscape as it flies, And as they march in swift succession o'er Their native land, unto the fatal shore, Drear as the serpent's track, when death's in view,

They move, they march, a desolating

crew.

The people fly, nor dare to look behind, And hear their death in every passing wind.

And, as the fatal tube ascending flies,
To catch the little tennant of the skies,
The rest take flight, in silent thicket roam,
So, flew the natives, to their little home.

The Plough must stop, the sickled hand

must cease,

While war! and death! proceed in rapid pace.

These our amusements; these our only joy;

The works of death alone, our soul employ.

Of all our ills the cause, be mine, to trace Their hostile influence on the human race. An isle so famed, for giant strength, renowned,

Now pigmy cripples, creep along the ground.

In every look, in every feature trace,
A naked, famished, sickly, beggared race.
In rising youth, where vigour ought to
bloom,

Their pallid hue, bespeaks an early tomb.
From cribs and hovels, see the children

swarm,

Nor food to feed, nor fire to keep them

warm.

When night descends, and darkness covers all,

They crowd the door, and for their fathers call.

Ah! unavailing cries! heart-rending sight! Serves but to augment the terrors of the night.

Alas! no father's ear, shall catch the

sound,

For death has seized, and sealed it to the ground.

He fell in battle on a foreign shore, Nor wife, nor child, nor friend shall see him more.

A CARLOW FRIEND.

found.

One yet remains of our triumv'rate crew, Attend my friend, and take a transient view,

Of Pitt's proud pupil, putrid Castlereagh,
Who equal pow'rs unequally display,
Corruption's broker, modern matricide,
A Nero swell'd with Luciferian pride,
The heir of all his great preceptor's parts,
Alike well skill'd in Machiavelian arts.
A venal merchant, trafficking in slaves,
First stabs his country, nexts its vengeance
braves;

- Expert in ev'ry ministerial feat,

Could buy a member, or could sell a seat, Could plan campaigns, and numerous armies station,

Where they'd be sure to meet extermination;

Direct brave Legions in a single breath, The shortest way to win - a sudden death,

And calmly order sixty thousand men,
To man the yawning graves of Walcheren.
Profoundly skill'd in sanguinary missions,
Famous at Quixotic expeditions:

To hear of nations any wise oppress'd
His armies fly to succour the distress'd,
Thus nobly healing every foreign sore,
By making worse what was so bad
before,

While Mother country bleeds at every

Who would for money write Keogh

down,

Who'd prove me wise, and him a fool. To Crow-street Club I went one day, Where in a brawling Doctor ran;

Says he, "I'll get without delay, For you, dear Sir, a dagger Man.'

6

"Really" says I, excellent friend, How shall I your great zeal requite? But are you sure he'll serve the end, Pray can he defamation write?

Said he, oh trust one! if he can't, In Dublin town no other can;

Says I, he's just the one I want, So quick employ the dagger Man, 7

The Doctor soon with him agreed, He told him of my wealth in land; Then strait to me he came with speed, And said he was at my command.

His task I told, to work he went, With Clinch and Keogh he first began;

And sure such bile was never spent, As came forth from my dagger Man.

8

But Watty Cox has found us out, And talks about my great grand Dam; He says he'll kick us both about, Because my grand Sire kill'd a Ram."

Besides he threatens doleful tale!
If we go to Crow-street Divan;
Our hides most soundly he will flail,
Myself and Con. the dagger Man.

SIR SLAUGHTERHOUSE SNEERWELL

And sold it to his Customers as Wether Mutton, TO