24 
The same figure also fnsinuates it- 
self into many of the carliest symbols 
of heraldry, an art which has the 
strongest external evidence of having 
been originally derived from Egypt. 
In fact, the Cress Poture, worn to this 
day by the Greek priests upon their 
garments, and first introduced by the 
Egyptian anchorite,, St. Anthony, is 
without doubt the Crux Anasta. With 
its lower limb elongated, it appears 
to have been used by that saint as a 
crutch. The episcopal Padum, a 
symbol which, as well as the mitre, 
the crosier, and even the tonsorship, 
may also be traced to the Egyptian 
monks, appears sometimes upon escut- 
cheons with its lower extremity in the 
shape of the Tau. Nor is it unfrequent 
to meet with the latter symbol on the 
reverse of Saxon coins, placed in. 
threes, after the manner of heraldic 
achievements, and, beyond a doubt, 
representing the arms of some Saxon 
prince. Some, indeed, may be in- 
clined to think, that the triple figures 
here noticed pourtray the hammer of 
Thor; but. this supposition will not 
violate the probability of the theory 
here supported; since there is great 
reason to believe, that the hammer it- 
self was a Crux Ansata, which is a more 
reasonable inference than that the lat- 
ter wasakey. Be this as it will, it is 
certain that the Scandinavians vene- 
rated the same sacred symbol as the 
Egyptians, since they represented their 
god Thor, or rather their great triple 
divinity, under the form of a gigantic 
Tau, constructed from the trunk and 
limbs of a tree. Nor is it unworthy 
of remark, that on one of the coins of 
Adult, king of the East Angles, there 
appears a Cross Potence, with a ser- 
pent suspended upon it after the 
Egyptian fashion. Heraldry also pre- 
serves the sacred symbol in question 
in that species of fanciful emblazonry 
which is called Cuppy Very. 
(To be continued.) 
—_——— 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
AN IRISHMAN’S NOTES ON PARIS. 
NO. -V. 
HAD doffed my dusty boots, and 
refreshed myself, after the day’s 
sights, with a clean sock aud shoe, 
new modelled the folds of a cravat, 
exchanged my surtout for a coat, and 
was moving thoughtfully towards my 
dinner chez Very, when, as L passed 
the café of my hotel, 1 recollected I 
had not seen the journal, and so tarned 
i 
An Irishman’s Notes on Paris, No. V. 
[Aug. 1, 
in to look it over: I said thoughtfully 
towards dinner, for this meal was a 
far more serious concern, and took 
more consideration from me, during 
the first six weeks I spent in Paris, 
than I trust it will soon require again. 
Not, indeed, from any yery fastidious 
sense of epicurism on my part, but 
from a great difficulty of speech,—a 
convenience, by the bye, I was before 
not wont to feel any lack of. For the 
first week I dined with some English 
friends, long resident in the gay city ; 
that was very agreeable: in the second 
I made an effort to cater for myself, 
and fearlessly entered a restawrateur’s. 
All the tables happened to be occu- 
pied: the delay rather confused me, 
for I stood in the observation of the 
salle. Well, I got seated, had a carte 
set before me; but, not yet Frenchified 
in my palate, I attempted a word of 
my own instruction, to abate, if possi- 
ble, peculiarity. A green-pea soup, 
without other vegetables, thought 1; 
a natural rare steak,--I had before 
got one in buttered sauce; an omelette, 
—aye,—and I essayed expression; 
once, twice, thrice, and in vain. A 
‘don’t comprehead, sir,” in the most 
mortifying excellence of piteously 
varied tone from the waiter, was my 
only return. A bottle of Burgundy 
was more intelligible, and with that 
consolation I was content to sink the 
soup, and simply pronounce, ‘$ Bif- 
steck—omelette,” trusting to chance for 
the sauce of the one, and the composi- 
tion of the other. ‘They took full 
twenty minutes to dress the steak,—I 
was impatient: it was noisily served, 
—I wasvexed. “Omelette!” I cried, 
again and again, while the company 
stared in wonder at noisy John Ball. 
My bottle, by this time, sank nearly 
empty; and, without farther bait for 
my temper, I vociferated ‘‘ Carte 
payante,” in a voice that made the 
Gargon fly in obedience: got it, and 
flung out of the house in a rage. 
After a modification or two of this 
scene, during the next weck, I found 
the matter, slowly and with conside- 
ration, manageable. However, as I 
approached the café of my hotel one 
day, I saw inside an English party just 
arrived, and most sadly conditioned : 
their blood rudely heated by the fa- 
tigue of the journey, and their temper 
soured by the trials of their ignorance. 
‘The long thin figure of a keen cutler 
from Sheffield hung intently over the 
large round table which ocempied the 
middle room, but upon pecotanyeaen: 
o 
