The Every-day Book and Table Book, v. 1 (of 3) or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac (part 3 of 7)

The Every-day Book and Table Book, v. 1 (of 3) or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac (part 3 of 7)

Accomplishments upon vice are as beautiful colours on a venomous reptile. Learning is a vain show, and knowledge mischievous, without the love of goodness, or the fear of evil. Children have fallen from careless parents into the hands of the executioner, in whom the means of distinguishing between right and wrong might have become a stock for knowledge to ripen on, and learning have preserved the fruits to posterity. Let not him despair who desires to know, or has power to teach--

There is in every human heart, Some not completely barren part, Where seeds of truth and love might grow And flowers of generous virtue blow: To plant, to watch, to water there, This be our duty, be our care.

Bowring.

[5] Butler’s Lives of the Saints.

[6] Stow.

~February 21.~

St. Severianus, Bp. A. D. 452. Sts. German, Abbot, and Randaut, or Randoald, A. D. 666. Sts. Daniel and Verda, A. D. 344. B. Pepin, of Landen, A. D. 640.

BREAKFAST IN COLD WEATHER.

“Here it is,” says the “Indicator,” “ready laid. Imprimis, tea and coffee; secondly, dry toast; thirdly, butter; fourthly, eggs; fifthly, ham; sixthly, something potted; seventhly, bread, salt, mustard, knives and forks, &c. One of the first things that belong to a breakfast is a good fire. There is a delightful mixture of the lively and the snug in coming down into one’s breakfast-room of a cold morning, and seeing every thing prepared for us; a blazing grate, a clean table-cloth and tea-things, the newly-washed faces and combed heads of a set of good-humoured urchins, and the sole empty chair at its accustomed corner, ready for occupation. When we lived alone, we could not help reading at meals: and it is certainly a delicious thing to resume an entertaining book at a particularly interesting passage, with a hot cup of tea at one’s elbow, and a piece of buttered toast in one’s hand. The first look at the page, accompanied by a coexistent bite of the toast, comes under the head of intensities.”

THE SEASON.

The weather is now cold and mild alternately. In our variable climate we one day experience the severity of winter, and a genial warmth prevails the next; and, indeed, such changes are not unfrequently felt in the same day. Winter, however, at this time breaks apace, and we have presages of the genial season.

Oxen, o’er the furrow’d soil, Urging firm their annual toil; Trim cottages that here and there, Speckling the social tilth, appear: And spires, that as from groves they rise, Tell where the lurking hamlet lies: Hills white with many a bleating throng, And lakes, whose willowy banks along, Herds or ruminate, or lave, Immersing in the silent wave. The sombre wood--the cheerful plain, Green with the hope of future grain: A tender blade, ere Autumn smile Benignant on the farmer’s toil, Gild the ripe fields with mellowing hand, And scatter plenty through the land.

Baron Smith.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

White crocus. Crocus versicolor. Dedicated to St. Servianus.

~February 22.~

The Chair of St. Peter at Antioch. St. Margaret, of Cortona, A. D. 1297. Sts. Thalasius and Limneus. St. Baradat.

St. Margaret.

She was a penitent, asked public pardon for her sins with a rope about her neck, punished her flesh, and worked miracles accordingly.[7]

Sts. Thalasius and Limneus.

St. Thalasius dwelt in a cavern, “and was endowed with extraordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost; but was a treasure unknown to the world.” St. Limneus was his disciple, and “famous for miraculous cures of the sick,” while his master “bore patiently the sharpest cholics, and other distempers, without any human succour.”[8]

St. Baradat.

This saint lived in a trellis-hut, exposed to the severities of the weather, and clothed in the skins of beasts.[9]

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Herb Margaret. Bellis perennis. Dedicated to St. Margaret, of Cortona.

SPORTING CALENDAR.

A valued correspondent obliges the Every-Day Book with an original sketch, hasty and spirited as its hero, when the sports of the field allured him from the pursuits of literature at college, and the domestic comforts of wife and home.

To the Editor.

To disemburthen oneself of ennui, and to find rational amusement for every season of the year, is a grand desideratum in life. Luckily I have hit on’t, and beg leave, as being the properest place, to give my recipe in the Everlasting Calendar you are compiling. I contrive then to give myself employment for every time of year. Neither lively Spring, glowing Summer, sober Autumn, nor dreary Winter, come amiss to me; for I have contrived to make myself an Universal Sportsman, and am become so devoted a page of Diana, that I am dangling at her heels all the year round without being tired of it. In bleak and frozen January, besides sliding, skating in figures, and making men of snow to frighten children with, by means of a lantern placed in a skull at the top of them, I now and then get a day’s cock shooting when the frost breaks, or kill a few small birds in the snow. In lack of other game, a neighbour’s duck, or goose, or a chicken, shot and pocketed as I sally out to the club dinner, are killed more easily than my dairymaid does it, poor things!

In February, the weather being rainy or mild, renders it worth my while to send my stud into Leicestershire for hunting again; and so my white horse Skyscraper, my old everlasting chestnut Silvertail, the only good black in the hunt Sultan, and the brown mare Rosinante, together with Alfana the king of the Cocktails, a hack or two, and a poney for errands, are “pyked off” pack and baggage for Melton; and then from the first purple dawn of daylight, when I set off to cover, to the termination of the day with cards, I have plenty of rational amusement. Next month, forbearing March hares, I shoot a few snipes before they are all gone, and at night prepare my fishing tackle for April, when the verdant meadows again draw me to the riverside to angle.

My wife has now rational employment for the rest of the Summer in catching and impaling the various flies of the season against my trout mania comes, which is usual early in May, when all her maids assist in this flyfowling sport. I have generally been successful in sport, but I shall never forget my disappointment when on throwing in a flyline which was not baited by myself, I found that Sally, mistaking her new employment, had baited my hook with an earwig. In June I neglected my Grass for the same sport, and often let it stand till the Hay is spoiled by Swithin, who wipes his watery eyes with what ought to be my Winter’s fodder. This gives me rational, though troublesome, employment in buying Hay or passing off the old at market. July, however, affords plenty of bobfishing, as I call it, for roach, dace, perch, and bleak. I also gudgeon some of my neighbours, and cast a line of an evening into their carp and tench ponds. I have not, thank my stars, either stupidity or patience enough for barbel. But in August, that is before the 12th, I get my trolling tackle in order, and am reminded of my old vermin college days, when shutting my room door, as if I was “sported in” and cramming Euclid, I used to creep down to the banks of the Cam, and clapping my hands on my old rod, with his long line to him, exclaimed, in true Horatian measure, the only Latin line I ever cited in my life,

Progenie longa gaudes captare Johannes.

But, oh! the 12th day of August, that mountain holiday, ushered in by the ringing of the sheep bell--’tis then that, jacketed in fustian, with a gun on my shoulder, and a powder horn belted to my side, I ramble the rough highland hills in quest of blackcocks and red game, get now and then a chance shot at a ptarmagan, and once winged a Capercaille on a pine tree at Invercauld. In hurrying home for the First of September, I usually pass through the fens of Lincolnshire, and there generally kill a wild duck or two. You must know I have, besides my pointers, setters, and spaniels, water dogs of every sort. Indeed my dog establishment would astonish Acteon. There are my harriers, Rockwood, Ringwood, Lasher, Jowler, Rallywood, and twenty more; my pointers, Ponto and Carlo; my spaniels, Dash and Old Grizzle; Hedgehog and Pompey, my water dogs. No one, I bet a crown, has better greyhounds than Fly and Dart are, nor a surer lurcher than Groveller. I say nothing of those inferior “Lares,” my terriers--ratcatching Busy, Snap, and Nimbletoes, with whom, in the absense of other game, I go sometimes for a frolic to a farmhouse, disguised as a ratcatcher, and take a shilling for ferret work.

But now I come to thy shrine, O lovely Septembria, thou fairest nymyh in Diana’s train, with rolling blue eyes as sharp and as true as those of a signal lieutenant; I come to court thee again, and may thy path be even paved with the skulls of partridges. Again I come to dine with thee on the leveret’s back or pheasant’s wings. We’ve wildboars’ bladders for wine bottles, ramshorns for corkscrews, bugles for funnels, gunpowder for snuff, smoke for tobacco, woodcock’s bills for toothpicks, and shot for sugar plums! I dare not proceed to tell you now many brace of birds Ponto and I bag the first day of shooting, as the long bow, instead of the fowling piece, might be called my weapon. But enough rodomontading.

I now come to October. Pheasants by all that’s volatile! And then, after them, I go to my tailor and order two suits--scarlet for master Reynard, and a bottlegreen jacket for the harriers, top-boots, white corderoy inexpressibles, and a velvet cap. Then when the covers ring again with the hallowed music of harriers, I begin skylarking the gates and setting into wind to follow the foxhounds in November. When

_The dusky night rides down the sky, And ushers in the morn, The Hounds all make a jovial cry, And the Huntsman winds his horn._

With three days in the week chace, and pretty little interludes of hunting with beagles, or of snipe shooting, I manage to get through December to the year’s end. My snug Winter evenings are spent in getting ready my guns, smacking new hunting whips, or trying on new boots, while my old hall furnishes ample store of trophies, stags’ horns hunted by my great grandfather, cross bows, guns, brushes won on rivals of Pegasus, and all sorts of odd oldfashioned whips, horns, and accoutrements, hanging up all round, which remind me of those days of yore when I remember the old squire and his sporting chaplain casting home on spent horses all bespattered from the chase, before I had ridden any thing but my rocking horse. There then have I rational amusement all the year round. And much and sincerely do I praise thee, O Diana! greatest Diana of the Ephesians! at thy feet will I repose my old and weatherbeaten carcass at last and invoke thy tutelary protection for my old age, thou who art Hunting, Shooting, and Fishing personified, the true DIVA TRIFORMIS of Antiquity.

Imminens Villæ tua Pinus esto, Quam per exactos ego lætus annos, Verris obliquum meditantis ictum, Sanguine donem.

I have the honour to remain,

Yours ever,

JACK LARKING.

* * * * *

AN ADDRESS TO THE MOON,

To a “proper new” tune.

ORIGINAL.

No!--I have nothing new to say, Why must ye wait to hear my story? Go, get thee on thy trackless way, There’s many a weary mile before ye-- Get thee to bed, lest some poor poet, Enraptur’d with thy phiz, should dip A pen in ink to let thee know it, And (mindful not to let thee slip His fingers) bid thy moonship stay And list, what he might have to say.

Yet I do love thee!--and if aught The muse can serve thee, will petition Her grace t’ attend thine airy court, And play the part of first musician-- But “ode,” and “lines,” “address,” and “sonnet,” “To Luna dedicate,” are now So plentiful, that (fie upon it!) She’ll add no glory to thy brow, But tell thee, in such strains as follow, That thy mild sheen beats Phosphor hollow!

That thou art “fairest of the fair,” Tho’ Phœbus more that’s grand possesses, That tree and tower reflect thy glare, And the glad stream thy ray confesses, That, when thy silvery beams illumine The landscape, nature seems bedight With loveliness so rare, that few men Have e’er been blessed with such a sight! And all such moonshine:--but enough Of this tame “milk and water” stuff.

Δ

[7] Butler’s Saints.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

~February 23.~

St. Serenus, A. D. 307. St. Milburge. B. Dositheus. St. Peter Damian, Card. Bp. A. D. 1072. St. Boisil, Prior of Melross.

St. Milburge, 7th Cent.

She was sister to St. Mildred, wore a hair cloth, and built the monastery of Wenlock, in Shropshire. One day being at Stokes, a neighbouring village, brother Hierome Porter says, that “a young gallant, sonne to a prince of that countrey, was soe taken with her beautie, that he had a vehement desire to carrie her away by force and marrie her.” St. Milburge fled from him and his companions till she had passed a little brook, called Corfe, which then suddenly swelled up and threatened her pursuers with destruction, wherefore they desisted. She ordered the wild geese who ate the corn of her monastic fields to be gone elsewhere, and they obeyed her as the waters did. After her death, her remains were discovered, in 1100, by two children sinking up to their knees in her grave, the dust whereof cured leprosies, restored the sight, and spoiled medical practice. A diseased woman at Patton, drinking of the water wherein St. Milburge’s bones were washed, there came from her stomach “a filthie worme, ugly and horrible to behold, having six feete, two hornes on his head, and two on his tayle.” Brother Porter tells this, and that the “worme was shutt up in a hollow piece of wood, and reserved afterwards in the monasterie, as a trophie, and monument of S. Milburg, untill by the lascivious furie of him that destroyed all goodnes in England, that, with other religious houses, and monasteries, went to ruine.”[10] Hence the “filthie worme” was lost, and we have nothing instead but the Reformation.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Apricot. Prunus Armeniaca. Dedicated to St. Milburge.

THE SEASON.

If ice still remain let those who tempt it beware:--

The frost-bound rivers bear the weight Of many a vent’rous elf; Let each who crowds to see them skate Be careful for himself:

For, like the world, deceitful ice Who trusts it makes them rue: ’Tis slippery as the paths of vice, And quite as faithless too.

From the sabbath before Palm-Sunday, to the last hour of the Tuesday after Easter, “the Christians were accustomed to stone and beat the Jews,”[11] and all Jews who desired to exempt themselves from the infliction of this cruelty, commuted for a payment in money. It was likewise ordained in one of the Catholic services, during Lent, that all orders of men should be prayed for except the Jews.[12] These usages were instituted and justified by a dreadful perversion of scripture, when rite and ceremony triumphed over truth and mercy. Humanity was dead, for superstition Molochized the heart.

From the dispersion of the Jews they have lived peaceably in all nations towards all, and in all nations been persecuted, imprisoned, tortured, and put to death, or massacred by mobs. In England, kings conspired with their subjects to oppress them. To say nothing of the well-known persecutions they endured under king John, the walls of London were repaired with the stones of their dwellings, which his barons had pillaged and destroyed. Until the reign of Henry II., a spot of ground near Red-cross-street, in London, was the only place in all England wherein they were allowed to bury their dead.

In 1262, after the citizens of London broke into their houses, plundered their property, and murdered seven hundred of them in cold blood, King Henry III. gave their ruined synagogue in Lothbury to the friars called the fathers of the sackcloth. The church of St. Olave in the Old Jewry was another of their synagogues till they were dispossessed of it: were the sufferings they endured to be recounted we should shudder. Our old English ancestors would have laughed any one to derision who urged in a Jew’s behalf, that he had “eyes,” or “hands,” “organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions;” or that he was “fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is.” They would have deemed a man mad had one been found with a desire to prove that

------- the poor Jew, In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great As when a Christian dies.

To say nothing of their more obvious sufferings for many centuries, the tide of public opinion raged against the Jews vehemently and incessantly. They were addressed with sneers and contumely; the finger of vulgar scorn was pointed at them; they were hunted through the streets in open day, and when protected from the extremity of violence, it was with tones and looks denoting that only a little lower hate sanctuaried their persons. In conversation and in books they were a by-word, and a jest.

* * * * *

A work printed in 1628, for popular entertainment, entitled “A Miscellany of Seriousness with Merriment, consisting of Witty Questions, Riddles, Jests,” &c. tells this story as a good joke. A sea captain on a voyage, with thirty passengers, being overtaken by a violent tempest, found it necessary to throw half of them overboard, in order to lighten the vessel. Fifteen of the passengers were Christians, and the other fifteen were Jews, but in this exigency they unanimously agreed in the captain’s opinion, and that he should place the whole thirty in a circle, and throw every ninth man over till only fifteen were left. To save the Christians, the captain placed his thirty passengers in this order, viz.: four Christians, five Jews; two Christians, one Jew; three Christians, one Jew; one Christian, two Jews; two Christians, three Jews; one Christian, two Jews; two Christians, one Jew. He began to number from the first of the four Christians thus:

CCCC. JJJJJ. CC. J. CCC. J. C. JJ. CC. JJJ. C. JJ. CC. J.

By this device, the captain preserved all the Christians, and deeped all the Jews.

* * * * *

Selden says, “Talk what you will of the Jews, that they are cursed, they thrive wherever they come: they are able to oblige the prince of their country by lending him money; none of them beg; they keep together; and for their being hated, my life for yours, Christians hate one another as much.” This was true, but it is also true that three quarters of a century have not elapsed since hatred to the Jews was a national feeling. In 1753, a bill was brought into the House of Lords for naturalizing the Jews, and relieving them from persecuting disabilities. It passed there on the ground that it would operate to the public advantage, by encouraging wealthy persons professing the Jewish religion to remove hither from foreign parts to the increase of the capital, commerce, and credit of the kingdom. The corporation of London in common council assembled, petitioned against it on the ground that it would dishonour the christian religion, endanger the constitution, and prejudice the interest and trade of the kingdom in general, and London in particular. A body of London merchants and traders also petitioned against it. Certain popular orators predicted that if the bill passed, the Jews would multiply so fast, become so rich, and get so much power, that their persons would be revered, their customs be imitated, and Judaism become the fashionable religion; they further alleged that the bill flew in the face of prophecy, which declared that the Jews should be scattered without a country or fixed habitation till their conversion, and that in short it was the duty of Christians to be unchristian. But the bill passed the commons after violent debates, and received the royal sanction. The nation was instantly in a ferment of horror and execration; and on the first day of the next session of parliament, ministers were constrained to bring in a bill to repeal the act of naturalization, and to the foul dishonour of the people of England at that period, the bill was repealed. From that hour to the present, the Jews have been subjected to their old pains, penalties, disqualifications, and privations. The enlightenment of this age has dispelled much of the darkness of the last. Yet the errors of public opinion then respecting the Jews, remain to be rectified now by the solemn expression of a better public opinion. Formerly, if one of the “ancient people” had said in the imploring language of the slave, “Am I not a man, and a brother?” he might have been answered, “No, you are not a man, but a Jew.” It is not the business of the Jews to petition for justice, but it is the duty of Christians to be just.

* * * * *

In the “General Evening Post” of June 21, 1777, a paragraph states, that “the following circumstance is not more ridiculous than true;” and it proceeds to relate, that some years before, at Stamford, in the province of Connecticut, America, it was determined to build a church; but “though the church was much wanted, as many people in that neighbourhood were at a loss for a place of public worship, yet the work stood still a considerable time for want of nails (for it was a wooden building;) at last, a Jew merchant made them a present of a cask, amounting to four hundred weight, and thus enabled the church to proceed.” Such an act might make some Christians exclaim, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Jew rather than remain a Jew-oppressor under the name of a Christian.” It is not, however, on private, but on open grounds and high principle, that justice should spontaneously be rendered to the Jews. The Jew and the Christian, the Catholic and the Protestant, the Episcopalian and the Dissenter, the Calvinist and the Arminian, the Baptist and the Unitarian, all persons, of all denominations, are willed and empowered by their common document to acts of justice and mercy, and they now meet as brethren in social life to perform them; but the unsued claim of their elder brother, the Jew, is acknowledged no where, save in the conscience of every “just man made perfect.”

* * * * *

To extend the benefits of Education to the children of the humbler classes of Jews, is one of the first objects with their opulent and enlightened brethren. The “Examiner” Sunday newspaper of the 4th of February, 1825, cooperates in their benevolent views by an article of information particularly interesting:--

“On Friday last, the Jews held their anniversary, at the London Tavern, Bishopsgate-street, to celebrate their plan for the education of 600 boys and 300 girls, instituted April 20, 1818, in Bell-lane, Spitalfields. It was gratifying to contrast the consideration in which the Jews are now held in this country with their illiberal and cruel treatment in former times; and it was no less gratifying to observe, that the Jews themselves are becoming partakers of the spirit of the present times, by providing for the education of the poor, which, till within a very few years past, had been too much neglected; another pleasing feature in the meeting was, that it was not an assemblage of Jews only, but attended by people of other denominations, both as visitors and subscribers. Samuel Joseph, Esq., the president, was in the chair. Some loyal and patriotic toasts were given, appropriate addresses were delivered by different gentlemen, and the more serious business, of receiving and announcing new subscriptions, was much enlivened by a good band of vocal and instrumental music. Among the subscriptions referred to, one was of a peculiarly generous nature. An unknown hand had forwarded to the treasurer on the two last meetings a sum of 200_l._ This year he received instructions to clothe all the children at the expense of the same generous donor. The procession of the children round the hall, was an agreeable scene at this important meeting. A poetical address in the Hebrew language was delivered by one of the boys, and an English translation of it by one of the girls, each with propriety of accent, and much feeling.”

A record testifying the liberal disposition and humane attention of the Jews to the welfare of their offspring, is not out of place in a work which notices the progress of manners; and it is especially grateful to him who places it on this page, that he has an opportunity of evincing his respect for generous and noble virtues, in a people whose residence in all parts of the world has advantaged every state, and to whose enterprise and wealth, as merchants and bankers, every government in Europe has been indebted. Their sacred writings and their literature have been adopted by all civilized communities, while they themselves have been fugitives every where, without security any where. They are

----------------a people scatter’d wide indeed, Yet from the mingling world distinctly kept: Ages ago, the Roman standard stood Upon their ruins, yet have ages swept O’er Rome herself, like an o’erwhelming flood, Since down Jerus’lem’s streets she pour’d her children’s blood, And still the nation lives!

Mr. Bull’s Museum.

[10] Porter’s Flowers of the Saints.

[11] Mr. Fosbroke’s Brit. Mon.

[12] Ibid.

~February 24.~

St. Matthias, the Apostle. Sts. Montanus, Lucius, Flavian, Julian, Victoricus, Primolus, Rhenus, and Donation, A. D. 259. St. Lethard, or Luidhard, Bp. A. D. 566. B. Robert of Arbrissel, A. D. 1116. St. Pretextatus, or Prix, Abp. A. D. 549. St. Ethelbert, King.

St. Ethelbert.

He was king of Kent, and, according to Butler, the first christian king. It was under him that St. Augustine found favour when he landed in England with his monks, and is said to have introduced Christianity to the English people; an assertion wholly unfounded, inasmuch as it had been diffused hither centuries before. Augustine established nothing but monasteries and monkery, and papal domination.

Bertha, the queen of Ethelbert, was a convert, and her spiritual director officiated, before Augustine’s arrival, in the little church of St. Martin, situated just without Canterbury on the road to Margate; the present edifice is venerable for its site and its rude simplicity.

Ethelbert’s power is said to have extended to the Humber, and hence he is often styled king of the English. He was subdued to the views of the papacy by Augustine. Ethelbert founded Canterbury cathedral, and built without the walls of the city, the abbey and church of St. Peter and St. Paul, the ruins of which are denominated at this day St. Augustine’s monastery and Ethelbert’s tower. The foundation of the cathedral of Rochester, St. Paul’s at London, and other ecclesiastical structures, is ascribed to him. He died in 616. Sometimes he is called St. Albert, and churches are dedicated to him under that name.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 24th of February, 1809, died Mr. Jennings of Galley-lane, near Barnet, Herts. A few days previous to his decease he called on Mr. Wm. Salmon, his carpenter, at Shenley-hill, to go with him and fix upon a spot for his vault. On the Sunday before his death he went on horseback to Shenley-hill, and stopped at the White Horse to have a glass of warm wine, with the same intention of going to Ridge; and afterwards, seeing the rev. Mr. Jefferson, endeavoured to buy the ground, but differed with him for two guineas. On the Monday, he applied to Mr. Mars, of Barnet, for a vault there, but Mr. Jefferson sending him a note acceding to his terms, he opened it before Mr. Salmon and Dr. Booth, and after he had read it, showed it them, with this exclamation--“There, see what these fellows will do!” The day before he died he played at whist with Dr. Rumball, Dr. Booth, and his son, in bed: in the course of the evening he said, “The game is almost up.” He afterwards informed his son, he had lent a person some money that morning, and desired him to see it repaid. To some friends he observed, that he should not be long with them, and desiring them to leave the room he called back his son, for the purpose of saying to him, “I gave William money for coals this morning; deducting the turnpike, mind he gives you eleven and eightpence in change when he comes home. Your mother always dines at three o’clock, get your dinner with her, I shall be gone before that time--and don’t make any stir about me.” He died at half-past two. This account is from the manuscript papers of the late Mr. John Almon, in possession of the editor.

* * * * *

Regarding the season, there is an old proverb worthy noticing:

February fill dike, be it black or be it white: But if it be white, it’s the better to like.

Old Proverb.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Great Fern. Osmunda regalis. Dedicated to St. Ethelbert.

~February 25.~

St. Tarasius, A. D. 806. St. Victorinus, A. D. 284. St. Walburg, Abbess. St. Cæsarius, A. D. 369.

St. Walburg.

This saint, daughter of Richard, king of the West Saxons, also a saint, became a nun at Winburn in Dorsetshire, from whence, twenty-seven years after she had taken the veil, she went to Germany, and became abbess of a nunnery at Heidenheim in Suabia, where her brother governed an abbey of monks, which at his death, in 760, she also governed, and died in 779. His relics were distributed in the principal cities of the Low Countries, and the cathedral of Canterbury. The catalogue of relics in the electoral palace of Hanover, published there in 1713, mentions some of them there in a rich shrine. Butler calls them “rich particles.” Part of her jawbone, at Antwerp, was visited and kissed by the archduke Albert and Isabella in 1615. An oily liquor flowed from her tomb, and was a sovereign remedy, till the chemists and apothecaries somehow or other got their simples and substances into superior reputation. Strange to say, these victors over relics have never been canonized, yet their names would not sound badly in the calendar: for instance, St. William Allen, of Plough-court; St. Anderson, of Fleet-street; St. Cribb, of High Holborn; St. Hardy, of Walworth; St. Fidler, of Peckham; St. Perfect, of Hammersmith; &c.

THE SEASON.

It is observed by Dr. Forster in the “Perennial Calendar,” that about this season the purple spring crocus, crocus vernus, now blows, and is the latest of our crocuses. “It continues through March like the rest of the genus, and it varies with purple, with whitish, and with light blue flowers. The flowers appear before the leaves are grown to their full length. The vernal and autumnal crocus have such an affinity, that the best botanists only make them varieties of the same genus. Yet the vernal crocus expands its flowers by the beginning of March at farthest, often in very rigorous weather, and cannot be retarded but by some violence offered; while the autumnal crocus, or saffron, alike defies the influence of the spring and summer, and will not blow till most plants begin to fade and run to seed.

On the Seasons of Flowering, by White.

Say, what impels, amid surrounding snow, Congealed, the Crocus’ flamy bud to glow? Say, what retards, amid the Summer’s blaze, The autumnal bulb, till pale, declining days? The God of Seasons, whose pervading power Controls the sun, or sheds the fleecy shower: He bids each flower his quickening word obey; Or to each lingering bloom enjoins delay.

We may now begin to expect a succession of spring flowers; something new will be opening every day through the rest of the season.”

FLOWERS

A writer under the signature CRITO in the “Truth Teller” dilates most pleasantly in his fourth letter concerning flowers and their names. He says “the pilgrimages and the travelling of the mendicant friars, which began to be common towards the close of the twelfth century, spread this knowledge of plants and of medical nostrums far and wide. Though many of these vegetable specifics have been of late years erased from our Pharmacopœias, yet their utility has been asserted by some very able writers on physic, and the author of these observations has himself often witnessed their efficacy in cases where regular practice had been unavailing. Mr. Abernethy has alluded to the surprising efficacy of these popular vegetable diet drinks, in his book on the ‘Digestic Organs.’ And it is a fact, curiously corroborating their utility, that similar medicines are used by the North American Indians, whose sagacity has found out, and known from time immemorial, the use of such various herbs as medicines, which the kind, hospitable woods provide; and by means of which Mr. Whitlaw is now making many excellent cures of diseases.” He then proceeds to mention certain plants noted by the monks, as flowering about the time of certain religious festivals: “The SNOWDROP, Galanthus nivalis, whose pure white and pendant flowers are the first harbingers of spring, is noted down in some calendars as being an emblem of the purification of the spotless virgin, as it blows about Candlemas, and was not known by the name of snowdrop till lately, being formerly called FAIR MAID OF FEBRUARY, in honour of our lady. Sir James Edward Smith, and other modern botanists, make this plant a native of England, but I can trace most of the wild specimens to some neighbouring garden, or old dilapidated monastery; and I am persuaded it was introduced into England by the monks subsequent to the conquest, and probably since the time of Chaucer, who does not notice it, though he mentions the daisy, and various less striking flowers. The LADYSMOCK, Cardamine pratensis, is a word corrupted of ‘our lady’s smock,’ a name by which this plant (as well as that of Chemise de nôtre Dame) is still known in parts of Europe: it first flowers about Lady Tide, or the festival of the Annunciation, and hence its name. CROSS FLOWER, Polygala Vulgaris, which begins to flower about the Invention of the Cross, May 3, was also called Rogation flower, and was carried by maidens in the processions in Rogation week, in early times. The monks discovered its quality of producing milk in nursing women, and hence it was called milkwort. Indeed so extensive was the knowledge of botany, and of the medical power of herbs among the monks of old, that a few examples only can be adduced in a general essay, and indeed it appears that many rare species of exotics were known by them, and were inhabitants of their monastery gardens, which Beckmann in his ‘Geschichte der Erfindungen,’ and Dryander in the ‘Hortus Kewensis,’ have ascribed to more modern introducers. What is very remarkable is, that above three hundred species of medical plants were known to the monks and friars, and used by the religious orders in general for medicines, which are now to be found in some of our numerous books of pharmacy and medical botany, by new and less appropriate names; just as if the Protestants of subsequent times had changed the old names with a view to obliterate any traces of catholic science. Linnæus, however, occasionally restored the ancient names. The following are some familiar examples which occur to me, of all medicinal plants, whose names have been changed in later times. The virgin’s bower, of the monastic physicians, was changed into flammula Jovis, by the new pharmaciens; the hedge hyssop, into gratiola; the St. John’s wort (so called from blowing about St. John the Baptist’s day) was changed into hypericum; fleur de St. Louis, into iris; palma Christi, into ricinus; our master wort, into imperatoria; sweet bay, into laurus; our lady’s smock, into cardamine; Solomon’s seal, into convallaria; our lady’s hair, into trichomanes; balm, into melissa; marjorum, into origanum; crowfoot, into ranunculus; herb Trinity, into viola tricolor; avens into caryophyllata; coltsfoot, into tussilago; knee holy, into rascus; wormwood, into absinthium; rosemary, into rosmarinus; marygold, into calendula, and so on. Thus the ancient names were not only changed, but in this change all the references to religious subjects, which would have led people to a knowledge of their culture among the monastic orders, were carefully left out. The THORN APPLE, datura stramonium, is not a native of England; it was introduced by the friars in early times of pilgrimage; and hence we see it on old waste lands near abbeys, and on dunghills, &c. Modern botanists, however, have ascribed its introduction to gipsies, although it has never been seen among that wandering people, nor used by them as a drug. I could adduce many other instances of the same sort. But vain indeed would be the endeavour to overshadow the fame of the religious orders in medical botany and the knowledge of plants; go into any garden and the common name of marygold, our lady’s seal, our lady’s bedstraw, holy oak, (corrupted into holyhock,) the virgin’s thistle, St. Barnaby’s thistle, herb Trinity, herb St. Christopher, herb St. Robert, herb St. Timothy, Jacob’s ladder, star of Bethlehem, now called ornithogalum; star of Jerusalem, now made goatsbeard; passion flower, now passiflora; Lent lilly, now daffodil; Canterbury bells, (so called in honour of St. Augustine,) is now made into Campanula; cursed thistle, now carduus; besides archangel, apple of Jerusalem, St. Paul’s betony, Basil, St. Berbe, herb St. Barbara, bishopsweed, herba Christi, herba Benedict, herb St. Margaret, (erroneously converted into la belle Marguerite,) god’s flower, flos Jovis, Job’s tears, our lady’s laces, our lady’s mantle, our lady’s slipper, monk’s hood, friar’s cowl, St. Peter’s herb, and a hundred more such.--Go into any garden, I say, and these names will remind every one at once of the knowledge of plants possessed by the monks. Most of them have been named after the festivals and saints’ days on which their natural time of blowing happened to occur; and others were so called, from the tendency of the minds of the religious orders of those days to convert every thing into a memento of sacred history, and the holy religion which they embraced.”

It will be perceived that CRITO is a Catholic. His floral enumeration is amusing and instructive; and as his bias is natural, so it ought to be inoffensive. Liberality makes a large allowance for educational feelings and habitual mistake; but deceptive views, false reasonings, and perverted facts, cannot be used, by either Protestant or Catholic, with impunity to himself, or avail to the cause he espouses.

* * * * *

Leo the XII., the present pope, on the 24th of May, 1824, put forth a bull from St. Peter’s at Rome. “We have resolved,” he says, “by virtue of the authority given to us by heaven fully to unlock the sacred treasure composed of the merits, sufferings, and virtues of Christ our Lord, and of his Virgin Mother, and of all the saints, which the author of human salvation has intrusted to our dispensation. Let the earth therefore hear the words of his mouth. We proclaim that the year of Atonement and Pardon, of Redemption and Grace, of Remission and Indulgence is arrived. We ordain and publish the most solemn Jubilee, to commence in this holy city from the first vespers of the nativity of our most holy saviour, Jesus Christ, next ensuing, and to continue during the whole year 1825, during which time we mercifully give and grant in the Lord a Plenary Indulgence, Remission, and Pardon of all their Sins to all the Faithful of Christ of both sexes, truly penitent and confessing their sins, and receiving the holy communion, who shall devoutly visit the churches of blessed Peter and Paul, as also of St. John Lateran and St. Mary Major of this city for thirty successive days, provided they be Romans or inhabitants of this city; but, if pilgrims or strangers, if they shall do the same for fifteen days, and shall pour forth their pious prayers to God for the exaltation of the holy church, the extirpation of heresies, concord of catholic princes, and the safety and tranquillity of christian people.” The pope requires “all the earth” to “therefore ascend, with loins girt up, to holy Jerusalem, this priestly and royal city.”--He requires the clergy to explain “the power of Indulgences, what is their efficacy, not only in the remission of the canonical penance, but also of the temporal punishment,” and to point out the succour afforded to those “now purifying in the fire of Purgatory.” However, in February, 1825, one of the public journals contains an extract from the French Journal des Debats, which states that there was “a great falling off in the devotion of saints and pilgrims,” and it proves this by an article from Rome, dated January 25, 1825, of which the following is a copy:

“The number of pilgrims drawn to Jerusalem (Rome) by the Jubilee is remarkably small, compared with former Jubilees. Without adverting to those of 1300 and 1350, when they had at least a million of pilgrims; in 1750, they had 1,300 pilgrims presented on the 24th of December, at the opening of the holy gate. That number was increased to 8,400 before the ensuing New Year’s day. This time (Christmas, 1824) they had no more than thirty-six pilgrims at the opening of the holy gate, and in the course of Christmas week, that number increased only to 440. This is explained by the strict measures adopted in the Italian states with respect to the passports of pilgrims. The police have taken into their heads, that a vast number of individuals from all parts of Europe wish to bring about some revolutionary plot. They believe that the Carbonari, or some other Italian patriots, assemble here in crowds to accomplish a dangerous object. The passports of simple labourers, and other inferior classes, are rejected at Milan, and the surrounding cities of Austrian Italy, when they have not a number of signatures, which these poor men consider quite unnecessary. They cannot enter the Sardinian states without great difficulty. These circumstances are deplorable in the eyes of religious men. We are all grieved at this place.”

On this, the Journal des Debats remarks, “Notwithstanding the excuse for so great a reduction of late years in the number of these devotees, it has evidently been produced by the diffusion of knowledge. Men, in 1825, are not so simple as to suppose they cannot be saved, without a long and painful journey to Jerusalem (Rome.)”

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Peach. Amygdalus Persica. Dedicated to St. Walburg.

~February 26.~

St. Alexander. St. Porphyrius, Bishop of Gaza, A. D. 420. St. Victor, or Vittre, 7th Cent.

St. Alexander.

This is the patriarch of Alexandria so famous in ecclesiastical history for his opposition to Arius whom, with St. Athanasius and Marcellus of Ancyra, as his especial colleagues, he resisted at the council of Nice, till Arius was banished, his books ordered to be burnt, and an edict issued denouncing death to any who secreted them. On the death of St. Alexander in 420, St. Athanasius succeeded to his patriarchal chair.

FOGS.

The fogs of England have been at all times the complaint of foreigners. Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, when some one who was going to Spain waited on him to ask whether he had any commands, replied, “Only my compliments to the sun, whom I have not seen since I came to England.”--Carraccioli, the Neapolitan minister here, a man of a good deal of conversation and wit, used to say, that the only ripe fruit he had seen in England were roasted apples! and in a conversation with George II. he took the liberty of preferring the moon of Naples to the sun of England.

* * * * *

On seeing a LADY walking in the SNOW.

I saw fair JULIA walk alone, When feather’d rain came softly down, ’Twas JOVE descending from his tower, To court her in a silver shower, A wanton flake flew on her breast, As happy dove into its nest, But rivall’d by the whiteness there, For grief dissolv’d into a tear, And falling to her garment’s hem, To deck her waist, froze to a gem.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Lesser Periwinkle. Vinca minor. Dedicated to St. Victor.

~February 27.~

St. Leander, Bishop, A. D. 596. St. Julian, Chronion, and Besas. St. Thalilæus. St. Galmier, or Baldomerus, A. D. 650. St. Nestor, A. D. 250. St. Alnoth.

St. Thalilæus.

This saint was a weeper in Syria. He hermitized on a mountain during sixty years, wept almost without intermission for his sins, and lived for ten years in a wooden cage.

St. Galmier.

Was a locksmith at Lyons, and lived in great poverty, for he bestowed all he got on the poor, and sometimes his tools. An abbot gave him a cell to live in, he died a subdeacon about 650, and his relics worked miracles to his fame, till the Hugonots destroyed them in the sixteenth century.

St. Alnoth.

Was bailiff to St. Wereburge, became an anchoret, was killed by robbers, and had his relics kept at Stow, near Wedon, in Northamptonshire.

TIME.

‘Time is the stuff that life is made of,’ says Young.

“BEGONE about your business,” says the dial in the Temple: a good admonition to a loiterer on the pavement below.

The great French chancellor, d’Aguesseau, employed all his time. Observing that madame d’Aguesseau always delayed ten or twelve minutes before she came down to dinner, he composed a work entirely in this time, in order not to lose an instant; the result was, at the end of fifteen years, a book in three large volumes quarto, which went through several editions.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Lungwort. Pulmonaria Officinalis. Dedicated to Leander.

~February 28.~

Martyrs to the Pestilence in Alexandria, 261, &c. St. Proterius, Patriarch of Alexandria, 557. Sts. Romanus and Lupicinus.

Sts. Romanus and Lupicinus.

These saints were brothers, who founded the monastery of Condate with a nunnery, in the forest of Jura. St. Lupicinus prescribed a hard regimen. He lived himself on bread moistened with cold water, used a chair or a hard board for a bed, wore no stockings in his monastery, walked in wooden shoes, and died about 480.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Purple Crocus. Crocus vernus. Dedicated to St. Proterius.

Five Sundays in February.

The February of 1824, being leap-year, consisted of twenty-nine days; it contained five Sundays, a circumstance which cannot again occur till another leap-year, wherein the first of February shall fall on Sunday.

FOR THE MEMORY

Old Memorandum of the Months.

Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November, All the rest have thirty and one, Except February, which hath twenty-eight alone.

--Sturdy March with brows full sternly bent And armed strongly, rode upon a ram, The same which over Hellespontus swam; Yet in his hand a spade he also hent, And in a bag all sorts of weeds ysame, Which on the earth he strewed as he went, And fill’d her womb with fruitfull hope of nourishment.

Spenser.

March is the third month of the year; with the ancients it was the first: according to Mr. Leigh Hunt, from Ovid, the Romans named it from Mars, the god of war, because he was the father of their first prince. “As to the deity’s nature, March has certainly nothing in common with it; for though it affects to be very rough, it is one of the best natured months in the year, drying up the superabundant moisture of winter with its fierce winds, and thus restoring us our paths through the fields, and piping before the flowers like a bacchanal. He sometimes, it must be confessed, as if in a fit of the spleen, hinders the buds which he has dried from blowing; and it is allowable in the less robust part of his friends out of doors, to object to the fancy he has for coming in such a cutting manner from the east. But it may be truly said, that the oftener you meet him firmly, the less he will shake you; and the more smiles you will have from the fair months that follow him.”

Perhaps the ascription of this month to Mars, by the Romans, was a compliment to themselves; they were the sons of War, and might naturally deduce their origin from the belligerent deity. Minerva was also patroness of March.

Verstegan says of our Saxon ancestors, that “the moneth of March they called Lenct-monat, that is, according to our new orthography, Length-moneth, because the dayes did then first begin in length to exceed the nights. And this moneth being by our ancestors so called when they received Christianity, and consequently therewith the ancient christian custome of fasting, they called this chiefe season of fasting the fast of Lenct, because of the Lenct-monat, whereon the most part of the time of this fasting alwayes fell; and hereof it cometh that we now cal it Lent, it being rather the fast of Lent, thogh the former name of Lenct-monat be long since lost, and the name of March borrowed in stead thereof.” Lenct, or Lent, however, means Spring; hence March was the Spring-month. Dr. Sayer says the Saxons likewise called it Rhed-monath, a word derived by some from one of their deities, named Rheda, to whom sacrifices were offered in March; others derive it from ræd, the Saxon word for council, March being the month wherein wars or expeditions were usually undertaken by the Gothic tribes. The Saxons also called it Hlyd-monath, from hlyd, which means stormy, and in this sense March was the Stormy month.

No living writer discourses so agreeably on the “Months” as Mr. Leigh Hunt in his little volume bearing that title. He says of March, that--“The animal creation now exhibit unequivocal signs of activity. The farmer extends the exercise of his plough; and, if fair weather continues, begins sowing barley and oats. Bats and reptiles break up their winter sleep: the little smelts or sparlings run up the softened rivers to spawn: the field-fare and woodcock return to their northern quarters; the rooks are all in motion with building and repairing their nests; hens sit; geese and ducks lay; pheasants crow; the ring-dove coos; young lambs come tottering forth in mild weather; the throstle warbles on the top of some naked tree, as if he triumphed over the last lingering of barrenness; and, lastly, forth issues the bee with his vernal trumpet, to tell us that there is news of sunshine and the flowers.--In addition to the last month’s flowers, we now have the crown-imperial, the dog’s-tooth violet, fritillaries, the hyacinth, narcissus, (bending its face like its namesake,) pilewort, scarlet ranunculus, great snow-drop, tulips, (which turned even the Dutch to enthusiasts,) and violets, proverbial for their odour, which were perhaps the favourite flowers of Shakspeare. The passage at the beginning of ‘Twelfth Night,’ in which he compares their scent with the passing sweetness of music is well-known, and probably suggested the beautiful one in lord ‘Bacon’s Essays,’ about the superiority of flowers in the open air, ‘where the scent comes and goes like the warbling of music.’”

Now, Winter, dispossessed of storms, and weak from boisterous rage,

---------- Ling’ring on the verge of Spring, Retires reluctant, and from time to time Looks back, while at his keen and chilling breath Fair Flora sickens.

~March 1.~

St. David, Archbishop, A. D. 544. St. Swidbert, or Swibert, A. D. 713. St. Albinus, Bishop, A. D. 549. St. Monan, A. D. 874.

ST. DAVID.

Patron of Wales.

St. David, or, in Welch, Dewid, was son of Xantus, prince of Cardiganshire, brought up a priest, became an ascetic in the Isle of Wight, afterwards preached to the Britons, founded twelve monasteries, ate only bread and vegetables, and drank milk and water. A synod being called at Brevy, in Cardiganshire, A. D. 519, in order to suppress the heresy of Pelagius, “St. David confuted and silenced the infernal monster by his learning, eloquence, and miracles.” After the synod, St. Dubritius, archbishop of Caerleon, resigned his see to St. David, which see is now called St. David’s. He died in 544. St. Kentigern saw his soul borne by angels to heaven; his body was in the church of St. Andrew. In 962, his relics were translated to Glastonbury.[13]

Butler conceals that St. David’s mother was not married to his father, but Cressy tells the story out, and that his birth was prophecied of thirty years before it happened.

One of the miracles alleged of St. David is, that at the anti-Pelagian synod he restored a child to life, ordered it to spread a napkin under his feet, and made an oration; that a snow white dove descended from heaven and sat on his shoulders; and that the ground whereon he stood rose under him till it became a hill, “on the top of which hill a church was afterwards built, which remains to this day.” He assembled a provincial synod to confirm the decrees of Brevy; and wrote the proceedings of both synods for preservation in his own church, and to be sent to the other churches of the province; but they were lost by age, negligence, and the incursions of pirates, who almost every summer came in long boats from the Orkneys, and wasted the coasts of Cambria. He invited St. Kined to this synod, who answered that he had grown crooked, distorted, and too weak for the journey; whereupon ensued “a double miracle,” for “St. Kined having been restored to health and straightness by the prayers of St. David, by his own prayers he was reduced again to his former infirmity and crookedness.” After this synod he journeyed to the monastery of Glastonbury, which he had built there and consecrated, with intent to repair it, and consecrate it again; whereupon “our Lord appearing to him in his sleep, and forbidding him to profane the sacred ceremony before performed, he, in testimony, with his finger pierced a hole in the bishop’s hand, which remained open to the view of all men till the end of the next day’s mass.” Before his death “the angel of the lord appeared to him, and said to him, Prepare thyself.” Again: “When the hour of his departure was come, our Lord Jesus Christ vouchsafed his presence, to the infinite consolation of our holy father, who at the sight of him exulted.” More to the same purpose is alleged by the catholic writers respecting him. Such as, that at his death “being associated to a troop of angels, he with them mounted up to heaven,” and that the event was known “by an angel divulging it.” This is Cressy’s account.

According to another biographer of St. David, he was uncle to the famous prince Arthur, or, strictly speaking, half uncle, if St. David’s illegitimacy be authentic. The same author relates of him, that on his way from building the church of Glastonbury he went to Bath, cured an infection of the waters, and by his prayers and benediction gave them the perpetual heat they still retain. On the same authority, St. David’s posthumous virtue, in the reign of king Stephen, occasioned the brook above the church-yard of St. David’s church to run wine, by miracle: the well near it, called Pisteldewy or the conduit of David, sent forth milk instead of water. Also a boy, that endeavoured to take pigeons from a nest in St. David’s church at Lhannons, had his fingers miraculously fastened to the stone, till by his friends’ watching, fasting, and praying before the altar three days and nights, the stone fell from his hand. “Manie thousands of other miracles have been wrought by the meritts of this holy man, which for brevities sake we omitt. I only desire all true hearted Welchmen allwaies to honour this their great patrone and protector, and supplicate the divine goodnes to reduce his sometimes beloved countrey out of the blindnes of Protestancie, groveling in which it languisheth. Not only in Wales, but all England over is most famous in memorie of St. David. But in these our unhappie daies the greatest part of his solemnitie consisteth in wearing of a greene leeke, and it is a sufficient theme for a zealous Welchman to ground a quarrell against him, that doeth not honour his capp with the like ornament that day.” So saith Porter.

This legend has been the theme of successive writers, with more or less of variation, and much of addition.

Inscription for a monument in the Vale of Ewias.

Here was it, stranger, that the Patron Saint Of Cambria past his age of penitence, A solitary man; and here he made His hermitage, the roots his food, his drink Of Hodney’s mountain stream. Perchance thy youth Has read, with eager wonder, how the knight Of Wales, in Ormandine’s enchanted bower Slept the long sleep: and if that in thy veins Flow the pure blood of Britain, sure that blood Hath flowed with quicker impulse at the tale Of DAVID’S deeds, when thro’ the press of war His gallant comrades followed his green crest To conquest. Stranger! Hatterill’s mountain heights And this fair vale of Ewias, and the stream Of Hodney, to thine after-thoughts will rise More grateful, thus associate with the name Of David, and the deeds of other days.

MR. SOUTHEY.

~St. David’s Day.~

Wearing the Leek.

Mr. Brady, in the “Clavis Calendaria,” affirms that the custom of wearing the leek on St. David’s day is derived from St. David; who, according to him, caused the Britons under king Cadwallader to distinguish themselves from their enemies during a great battle, wherein they conquered the Saxons by virtue of his prayers and that regulation. Unfortunately he lays no ground for this positive statement, and the same misfortune attends almost every representation in his book, which would really be useful if he had pointed to his sources of information. A work professing to state facts without referring to authorities has no claim to confidence, whoever may be its author.

For any thing in the shape of ancient and authentic statement to the contrary, the institution of wearing the leek on St. David’s day by the saint himself, may rest on a Jeffrey of Monmouth authority, or on legends of no higher estimation with the historian, than “The famous History of the Seven Champions of Christendom,” by Richard Johnson.

* * * * *

Shakspeare, whose genius appropriated every thing that his extraordinary faculty of observation marked for its own, introduces this custom of the Welch wearing leeks upon St. David’s day into his play of King Henry V.

Enter Pistol to King Henry.

Pistol. Qui va là?

K. Henry. A friend.

P. What’s thy name?

K. H. Harry le Roy.

P. Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew?

K. H. No, I am a Welchman.

P. Knowest thou Fluellen?

K. H. Yes.

P. Tell him, I’ll knock his leek about his pate

Upon St. David’s day.

K. H. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, lest he knock that about yours.

It is again referred to in a dialogue between Henry V. and Fluellen.

Fluellen. Your grandfather of famous memory, an’t please your majesty, and your great-uncle, Edward, the black prince, as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France.

K. Henry. They did, Fluellen.

F. Your majesty says very true: if your majesties is remembered of it, the Welchmen did goot service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps; which, your majesty knows, is an honourable padge of the service: and, I do believe, your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy’s day.

K. H. I wear it for a memorable honour: for I am a Welch, you know, good countryman.

This allusion by Fluellen to the Welch having worn the leek in a battle under the black prince, is not, perhaps, as some writers suppose, wholly decisive of its having originated in the fields of Cressy or Poictiers; but it shows that when Shakspeare wrote, Welchmen wore leeks. In the same play, the well-remembered Fluellen’s enforcement of Pistol to eat the leek he had ridiculed, further establishes the wearing it as a usage. Fluellen wears his leek in the battle of Agincourt, which it will be recollected takes place in this play, and is there mentioned, as well as in the chronicles, to have been “fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus,” in the month of October. The scene between Fluellen and Pistol takes place the day after this battle.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

Gower. Why wear you your leek to-day? St. David’s day is past.

Fluellen. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things.--The rascally, scald, peggarly, pragging knave, Pistol, a fellow look you now of no merits, he is come to me with pread and salt yesterday, look you, and pid me eat my leek, it was in a place where I could not preed no contentions with him, but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then--(Enter Pistol)--Got pless you, ancient Pistol! you scurvy knave, Got pless you!

P. Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

G. I peseech you heartily scurvy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek.

P. Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats.

F. There is one goat for you. (strikes him.) Will you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it?

P. Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

F. I desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals; come there is sauce for it.--(strikes him.) If you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

By beating and taunt, Fluellen forces Pistol to eat the leek, and on its being wholly swallowed, Fluellen exhorts him “when you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at them, that is all!” Having thus accomplished his purpose, Fluellen leaves Pistol to digestion, and the consolation of Gower, who calls him “counterfeit cowardly knave: will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an honourable aspect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour, and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words?”

Here we have Gower speaking of the custom of the Welch wearing leeks as “an ancient tradition,” and as “a memorable trophy of predeceased valour.” Thoroughly versed in the history of the few reigns preceding the period wherein he lived, it is not likely that Shakspeare would make a character in the time of Henry V. refer to an occurrence under the black prince, little more than half a century before the battle of Agincourt, as an affair of “ancient tradition.” Its origin may be fairly referred to a very early period.

A contributor to a periodical work[14] rejects the notion, that wearing leeks on St. David’s day originated at the battle between the Welch and the Saxons in the sixth century; and thinks it more probable that leeks were a druidic symbol employed in honour of the British Ceudven or Ceres. In which hypothesis, he thinks, there is nothing strained or far-fetched, presuming that the Druids were a branch of the Phœnician priesthood. Both were addicted to oak worship; and during the funereal rites of Adonis at Byblos, leeks and onions were exhibited in “pots with other vegetables, and called the gardens of that deity.” The leek was worshipped at Ascalon, (whence the modern term of Scallions,) as it was in Egypt. Leeks and onions were also deposited in the sacred chests of the mysteries both of Isis and Ceres, the Ceudven of the Druids; leeks are among the Egyptian hieroglyphics; sometimes a leek is on the head of Osiris; and at other times grasped in an extended hand; and thence, perhaps, the Italian proverb, “Porro che nasce nella mano,” a leek that grows in the hand, for a virtue. Porrus, a leek, is derived by Bryant from the Egyptian god Pi-orus, who is the same as the Beal Peor of the Phœnicians, and the Bel or Bellinis of the Druids. These accordances are worth an ancient Briton’s consideration.

Ridicule of national peculiarities was formerly a pleasantry that the English freely indulged in. They seemed to think that different soil was good ground for a laugh at a person, and that it justified coarse and insolent remarks. In an old satirical tract there is the following sneer at the Welch:

“A WELCHMAN, Is the Oyster that the Pearl is in, for a man may be pickt out of him. He hath the abilities of the mind in potentiâ, and actu nothing but boldnesse. His Clothes are in fashion before his Bodie; and he accounts boldnesse the chiefest vertue. Above all men he loves a Herrald, and speakes pedigrees naturally. He accompts none well descended that call him not Cosen, and prefers Owen Glendower before any of the nine worthies. The first note of his familiaritie is the confession of his valour; and so he prevents quarrels. Hee voucheth Welch a pure, an unconquered language; and courts Ladies with the storie of their Chronicle. To conclude, he is pretious in his own conceit, and upon St. David’s day without comparison.”[15]

Not quite so flouting is a poetical satire called,

The Welchman’s Song in praise of Wales.

I’s come not here to tauke of Prut, From whence the Welse dos take hur root; Nor tell long pedegree of Prince Camber, Whose linage would fill full a chamber; Nor sing the deeds of ould Saint Davie, The Ursip of which would fill a navie, But hark you me now, for a liddell tales Sall make a great deal to the creddit of Wales, For hur will tudge your eares, With the praise of hur thirteen seers; And make you as glad and merry, As fourteen pot of perry.

There are four other stanzas; one of them mentions the leek:

But all this while was never think A word in praise of our Welse drink: Yet for aull that is a cup of bragat Aull England seer may cast his cap at. And what you say to ale of Webley, Toudge him as well, you’ll praise him trebly As well as metheglin, or syder, or meath, Sall sake it your dagger quite out o’ the seath. And oat cake of Guarthenion, With a goodly leek or onion, To give as sweet a rellis As e’er did Harper Ellis.[16]

In “Time’s Telescope,” an annual volume already mentioned for its pleasant varieties and agreeable information, there is a citation of flouting lines from “Poor Robin’s Almanac,” of 1757, under the month of March:

The first of this month some do keep, For honest Taff to wear his leek; Who patron was, they say, of Wales, And since that time, cuts-plutter-a nails, Along the street this day doth strut With hur green leek stuck in hur hat, And if hur meet a shentleman Salutes in Welch; and if hur can Discourse in Welch, then hur shall be Amongst the green-horned Taffy’s free.

The lines that immediately succeed the above, and follow below, are a versified record of public violence to the Welch character, which Englishmen in this day will read with surprise:

But it would make a stranger laugh To see th’ English hang poor Taff; A pair of breeches and a coat, Hat, shoes and stockings, and what not; All stuffed with hay to represent The Cambrian hero thereby meant; With sword sometimes three inches broad, And other armour made of wood, They drag hur to some publick tree, And hang hur up in effigy.

These barbarous practices of more barbarous times have disappeared as knowledge has advanced.

* * * * *

St. David’s day in London is the Anniversary of “the most Honourable and Loyal Society of Ancient Britons,” established in 1714; they celebrate it with festivity in behalf of the Welch charity-school in Grays-inn-road, which was instituted in 1718 for boarding, clothing, and educating 80 boys and 25 girls, born of Welch parents, in or within ten miles of the metropolis, and not having a parochial settlement within those limits. This institution has the king for patron as prince of Wales, and is supported by voluntary contributions. The “Ancient Britons,” according to annual custom, go in procession to the royal residence on St. David’s day, and receive the royal bounty. The society are in carriages, and each wears an artificial representation of the leek in his hat, composed of ribbands and silver foil. They have been sometimes accompanied by horsemen decorated in the same way, and are usually preceded by marshals, also on horseback, wearing leeks of larger dimension in their hats, and ornamented with silk scarfs. In this state they proceed from the school-house to some adjacent church, and hear a discourse delivered on the occasion, by a prelate or other dignified clergyman. The day is concluded by an elegant dinner under the regulation of stewards, when a collection is made for the institution, and a handsome sum is generally contributed.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Leek. Allium Porrum. Dedicated to St. David.

[13] Butler’s Saints.

[14] “Gazette of Fashion,” March 9, 1822.

[15] “A wife, now the widdow of sir Thomas Overburye, being a most exquisite and singular poem of the choice of a wife, whereunto are added many witty characters,” &c. London, printed for Lawrence Lisle, 4to. 1614.

[16] “An Antidote against Melancholy,” 4to 1661.

~March 2.~

St. Ceada, or Chad. Martyrs under the Lombards, 6th Cent. St. Simplicius, Pope A. D. 483. St. Marnan, A. D. 620. St. Charles the Good, Earl of Flanders, A. D. 1124. St. Joavan, or Joevin.

St. Chad, A. D. 673.

His name is in the calendar of the church of England. He was founder of the see, and bishop of Lichfield. According to Bede, joyful melody as of persons sweetly singing descended from heaven into his oratory for half an hour, and then mounted again to heaven. This was to presage his death, and accordingly he died, attended by his brother’s soul and musical angels.

St. Chad’s Well

Is near Battle-bridge. The miraculous water is aperient, and was some years ago quaffed by the bilious and other invalids, who flocked thither in crowds, to drink at the cost of sixpence, what people of these latter days by “the ingenious chemists’ art,” can make as effectual as St. Chad’s virtues “at the small price of one halfpenny.”

If any one desire to visit this spot of ancient renown, let him descend from Holborn-bars to the very bottom of Grays-inn-lane. On the left-hand side formerly stood a considerable hill, whereon were wont to climb and browze certain mountain goats of the metropolis, in common language called swine; the hill was the largest heap of cinder-dust in the neighbourhood of London. It was formed by the annual accumulation of some thousands of cart loads, since exported to Russia for making bricks to rebuild Moscow, after the conflagration of that capital on the entrance of Napoleon. Opposite to this unsightly site, and on the right-hand side of the road is an angle-wise faded inscription:

It stands, or rather dejects, over an elderly pair of wooden gates, one whereof opens on a scene which the unaccustomed eye may take for the pleasure-ground of Giant Despair. Trees stand as if made not to vegetate, clipped hedges seem willing to decline, and nameless weeds straggle weakly upon unlimited borders. If you look upwards you perceive painted on an octagon board “Health Restored and Preserved.” Further on towards the left, stands a low, old-fashioned, comfortable-looking, large windowed dwelling; and ten to one, but there also stands, at the open door, an ancient ailing female, in a black bonnet, a clean coloured cotton gown, and a check apron; her silver hair only in part tucked beneath the narrow border of a frilled cap, with a sedate and patient, yet, somewhat inquiring look. This is “the Lady of the Well.” She gratuitously informs you, that “the gardens” of “St. Chad’s well” are “for circulation” by paying for the water, of which you may drink as much, or as little, or nothing, as you please, at one guinea per year, 9_s._ 6_d._ quarterly, 4_s._ 6_d._ monthly, or 1_s._ 6_d._ weekly. You qualify for a single visit by paying sixpence, and a large glass tumbler full of warm water is handed to you. As a stranger, you are told, that “St. Chad’s well was famous at one time.” Should you be inquisitive, the dame will instruct you, with an earnest eye, that “people are not what they were,” “things are not as they used to be,” and she “can’t tell what’ll happen next.” Oracles have not ceased. While drinking St. Chad’s water you observe an immense copper into which it is poured, wherein it is heated to due efficacy, and from whence it is drawn by a cock, into the glasses. You also remark, hanging on the wall, a “tribute of gratitude” versified, and inscribed on vellum, beneath a pane of glass stained by the hand of time and let into a black frame: this is an effusion for value received from St. Chad’s invaluable water. But, above all, there is a full-sized portrait in oil, of a stout, comely personage, with a ruddy countenance, in a coat or cloak, supposed scarlet, a laced cravat falling down the breast, and a small red night cap carelessly placed on the head, conveying the idea that it was painted for the likeness of some opulent butcher who flourished in the reign of queen Anne. Ask the dame about it, and she refers you to “Rhone.” This is a tall old man, who would be taller if he were not bent by years. “I am ninety-four,” he will tell you, “this present year of our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five.” All that he has to communicate concerning the portrait is, “I have heard say it is the portrait of St. Chad.” Should you venture to differ, he adds, “this is the opinion of most people who come here.” You may gather that it is his own undoubted belief. On pacing the garden alleys, and peeping at the places of retirement, you imagine the whole may have been improved and beautified for the last time by some countryman of William III., who came over and died in the same year with that king, and whose works here, in wood and box, have been following him piecemeal ever since.

St. Chad’s well is scarcely known in the neighbourhood, save by its sign-board of invitation and forbidding externals. An old American loyalist, who has lived in Pentonville ever since “the rebellion” forced him to the mother country, enters to “totter not unseen” between the stunted hedgerows; it was the first “place of pleasure” he came to after his arrival, and he goes no where besides,--“every thing else is so altered.” For the same reason, a tall, spare, thin-faced man, with dull grey eyes and underhung chin, from the neighbourhood of Bethnal-green, walks hither for his “Sunday morning’s exercise,” to untruss a theological point with a law clerk, who also attends the place because his father, “when he was ’prentice to Mr. ---- the great law stationer in Chancery-lane in 1776, and sat writing for sixteen hours a day, received great benefit from the waters, which he came to drink fasting, once a week.” Such persons from local attachment, and a few male and female atrabilarians, who without a powerful motive would never breathe the pure morning air, resort to this spot for their health. St. Chad’s well is haunted, not frequented. A few years and it will be with its water as with the water of St. Pancras’ well, which is enclosed in the garden of a private house, near old St. Pancras’ churchyard.

Holy Wells.

The holy wells of London have all declined in reputation, even to St. Bride’s well, whose fame gave the name of Bridewell to an adjoining hospital and prison, and at last, attached the name to every house of correction throughout the kingdom. The last public use of the water of St. Bride’s well drained it so much, that the inhabitants of St. Bride’s parish could not get their usual supply. This exhaustion was effected by a sudden demand. Several men were engaged in filling thousands of bottles, a day or two before the 19th of July 1821, on which day his majesty, king George IV. was crowned at Westminster; and Mr. Walker of the hotel, No. 10, Bridge-street, Blackfriars, purveyor of water to the coronation, obtained it, by the only means through which the sainted fluid is now attainable, from the cast-iron pump over St. Bride’s well, in Bride-lane.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Dwarf Cerastium. Cerastium pumilum. Dedicated to St. Chad.

~March 3.~

St. Cunegundes, Empress, A. D. 1040. Sts. Marinus and Asterius, or Astyrius. St. Emeterius, or Madir, and St. Chelidonius. St. Winwaloe, Abbot, A. D. 529. St. Lamalisse, 7th Cent.

Sts. Emeterius and Chelidonius.

Two Spanish saints, famous against hailstorms. When hailstorms come on, the clergy proceed thus:

1. They make a procession to the church. 2. They put lighted candles on the altar. 3. They sing a hymn to these saints. 4. They chaunt the antiphona. 5. They sing the praises of these saints.

By the time this chain is linked, the storm finishes.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 3d of March, 1792, died Robert Adam, Esq. He was born at Kirkaldy, in Fifeshire, in 1728, educated at the university of Edinburgh, devoted himself to architecture, went to Italy to study its ancient remains, became proficient in his profession, and rose to its highest honours: he was appointed architect to their majesties, and chosen fellow of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies of London and Edinburgh. In conjunction with his brother, Mr. James Adam, who died 20th November 1794, he built some of the finest of our modern mansions. His genius and acquirements adorned London with several structures, eminently superior in beauty to those which arose around him under the direction of other hands; but the work for which the Adams are chiefly celebrated, is the elegant range of buildings called the Adelphi. This Greek word, denoting the relationship of brothers, was conferred in compliment to the brothers, by whose intellect and science, in opposition to long vitiated taste, and difficulties deemed impracticable, these edifices were elevated. It is related that soon after their completion, a classically educated gentleman being present at a public dinner, and intending to toast the Messrs. Adams, who were also present, begged to give “the Adelphi;” and that this occasioned a worthy citizen to exclaim, “Bless me! it’s a very odd toast; what drink the health of a parcel of houses! However, oh, oh! ah, ah! I see! yes, yes! oh, the witty rogue! What, the street’s in a healthy spot? so it is; very healthy! Come I’ll drink its health with all my heart!--Here’s the Adelphi Terrace! I’ll stand up to it, (rising) and I hope it will never go down!”

* * * * *

Garrick resided in one of the houses of the Adelphi until his death, and was a friend of the Adams, who indeed were intimate with most of the eminent men in art and literature. Before the Adelphi was finished, the late Mr. Thomas Becket, the bookseller, desired the corner house of Adam-street, then building as a spacious avenue by the Adams to their terrace and the adjacent thoroughfares. Garrick anxious to secure the commanding corner for his friend Becket, wrote a warm-hearted letter in his behalf to Messrs. Adam. The letter has never been published, and being in the possession of the editor of the Every-Day Book, he inserts a copy of it, with a correct fac-simile of the commencement and conclusion. This hasty unstudied note, warm from the feelings, is testimony of Garrick’s zeal for a friend’s success, and of his qualifications as a solicitor to promote it: there is in it

---- a grace beyond the reach of art.

I forgot to speak to you last Saturday about our friend Becket.--We shall all break our hearts if he is not bookseller to y^{e} Adelphi, & has not y^{e} corner house that is to be built.--Pray, my dear & very good friends, think a little of this matter, & if you can make us happy, by suiting all our conveniences--we shall make his shop, as old Jacob Tonson’s was formerly, y^{e} rendevouz for y^{e} first people in England.--I have a little selfishness in this request--I never go to coffee-houses, seldom to taverns, & should constantly (if this scheme takes place) be at Becket’s at one at noon, & 6 at night; as y^{e} monkey us’d to be punctual in Piccadilly.

When you left me on Saturday, whether I had exerted my spirits too much, or gave too great a loose to my love of drinking with those I like, I know not; but I was attack’d terribly with a fit of y^{e} stone, & had it all yesterday morning, till I was relieved from torture, to y^{e} great joy of my wife & family.--I was 4 hours upon y^{e} rack, & now as free from pain as ever I was. I am weak w^{h} my disorder; but I could eat turtle, & laugh with you again to day, as if nothing had ail’d me--’tis a curs’d disorder, & that you may never have that curse make y^{r} peace w^{th} heav’n by an act of righteousness, & bestow that corner blessing (I have mention’d) upon Becket & his family--this is y^{e} pray’r & petition

Mr. Becket had the “corner blessing” conferred upon him.--He removed into the house from another part of the Strand, and remained tenant to the “Adelphi,” until he retired into Pall Mall.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Golden Fig Marygold. Mesembrianthemum aureum. Dedicated to St. Cunegundes.

~March 4.~

St. Casimir. St. Lucius, Pope, A. D. 253. St. Adrian, Bishop, A. D. 874.

St. Casimir,

Was born a prince on the 5th of October, 1458, and died 4th March, 1482. He was second son of Casimir III. king of Poland; and, according to Ribadeneira, he wore under his princely attire a prickly hair shirt, fasted rigorously, prayed at night till he fell weary and exhausted on the bare floor; often in the most sharp and bitter weather went barefoot to church at midnight, and lay on his face before the door; studied to advance the catholic religion, and to extinguish or drive heresy out of Poland; persuaded his father to enact a law that no new church should be built for heretics, nor any old ones repaired; in a particular virtue “surpassed the angels;” committed suicide; resigned his soul amidst choirs of priests; had it carried to heaven surrounded with a clear bright light by angels; and thirty-six years after his death he appeared in glittering armour and gallantly mounted; led the Polish army through an impassable river, and conquered the Muscovites; and the next year marched before his beloved Poles in the air against the enemy, and as “he beat them before, so he beat them again.”

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 4th of March, 1583, died Bernard Gilpin. He was born at Kentmire, in Westmoreland, 1517, sent to Queen’s college, Oxford, in 1553, read the writings of Erasmus, excelled in logic and philosophy, and studied Greek and Hebrew; being a Catholic he held a public disputation against John Hooper, the Protestant, who was martyred at the stake under Henry VIII. Appointed to hold a disputation against Peter Martyr, another eminent reformer, who read the divinity lecture in Oxford, he diligently studied the scriptures and the writings of the early fathers, and “was not sorry to be overcome by the truth.” Cuthbert Tunstall, bishop of Durham, gave him a living, which he shortly afterwards resigned, because he desired to travel, and could not hold it while absent with peace of conscience. “But,” saith the bishop, “thou mayst hold it with a dispensation, and thou shalt be dispensed withal.” To this Gilpin answered, that when he should be called on for an account of his stewardship, he feared it would not serve his turn to answer, that he had been “dispensed withal.” Whereupon the bishop admired, and “Father’s soul!” said he, “Gilpin will die a beggar.” He afterwards went to Lovaine and Paris, from whence he returned to England in the days of queen Mary; and bishop Tunstall gave him the rectory of Essingdon, by which he became archdeacon of Durham, and preached on scriptural authority against the vices in the church. Those who hated his integrity and feared his talents, sought his blood by insnaring controversy. He avoided vain jangling, and beat his adversaries in solid argument. At one of these disputations, carried on in an undertone with bishop Tunstall’s chaplains, and close behind the bishop, who was sitting before the fire, the bishop, leaning his chair somewhat backwards, hearkened to what was said; and when they had done, turning to his chaplains, “Father’s soul!” said the bishop, “let him alone, for he hath more learning than you all.” He was twice accused of heresy to Tunstall, who abhorred to shed blood; but information being given against him to Bonner, bishop of London, an order was issued for his apprehension. Gilpin had intelligence of the danger, yet he only provided against it by ordering William Airy, his house steward, to provide a long garment, that he might go the more comely to the stake. The sudden death of Mary cleared off the impending storm. Not long afterwards, bishop Tunstall presented Gilpin to the rectory of Houghton, a large parish with fourteen villages, which he laboriously served. He built a grammar school, from whence he sent students almost daily to the university, and maintained them there at his own cost. Honoured by the wise, and respected by the noble, the earl of Bedford solicited from queen Elizabeth the vacant bishopric of Carlisle for Gilpin. A congé d’élire was accordingly issued, but Gilpin resisted the dignity against all entreaties. “If I had been chosen to a bishopric elsewhere,” he said, “I would not have refused it; but in Carlisle I have many friends and kindred, at whom I must connive in many things, not without hurt to myself, or else deny them many things, not without hurt to them, which difficulties I have avoided by the refusal of that bishopric.” He was chosen provost of his own (Queen’s) college in Oxford, but this advancement he also declined. Yet he did the office and work of a bishop, by preaching, taking care of the poor, providing for the necessities of other churches, erecting schools, encouraging learned men, and keeping open house to all that needed. Cecil, lord Burleigh, the queen’s secretary, having visited Gilpin at Houghton, on his return towards Durham, when he came to Rainton-hill, reflected his eye upon the open country he had passed, and looking earnestly upon Gilpin’s house, said, “I do not blame this man for refusing a bishopric. What doth he want that a bishopric could more enrich him withal? besides that he is free from the great weight of cares.” Gilpin annually visited the people of Ridsdale and Tindale, and was “little else than adored by that half barbarous and rustic people.” When at Rothbury, in these parts, “there was a pestilent faction among some of them who were wont to resort to the church; the men being bloodily minded, practised a bloody manner of revenge, termed by them a deadly feud:” if one faction came to the church the other kept away, inasmuch as they could not meet without bloodshed. It so happened that when Gilpin was in the pulpit both parties came to the church; one party stood in the chancel, the other in the body of the church. Each body was armed with swords and javelins, and their weapons making a clashing sound, Gilpin, unaccustomed to such a spectacle, was somewhat moved, yet he proceeded with his sermon. A second time the weapons clashed; the one side drew near to the other; and they were about to commence battle in the church. Gilpin descended, stepped to the leaders on each side, appeased the tumult, and laboured to establish peace between them; but he could only obtain from these rude borderers, that they would not break the peace while Mr. Gilpin remained. On this he once more ascended the pulpit, and spent the allotted time in inveighing against this unchristian and savage custom, and exhorting them to forego it for ever. Another incident, further illustrating the manners of the people, will be mentioned below; it may be added here, however, that afterwards, when he revisited these parts, any one who dreaded a deadly foe, found himself safer in Gilpin’s presence than with armed guards. In his younger years, while on a ride to Oxford, Gilpin overtook a youth who was one while walking, and at another time running. He found that the lad came from Wales, knew Latin, had a smattering of Greek, and was bound for Oxford, with intent to be a scholar. “Wilt thou,” said Gilpin, “be contented to go with me? I will provide for thee.” The youth assented, Gilpin took him first to Oxford, afterwards to Houghton, where he improved him exceedingly in Greek and Hebrew, and sent him at last to Oxford. This youth was the learned Hugh Broughton; he is said to have requited this protection and care by something worse than inconstancy. Gilpin’s nature was kind and charitable, he visited sick chambers and prisons, and dispensed large bounties. He was firm in rectitude; and hence, on one occasion, when bishop Tunstall had inclined to his enemies, and insisted on Gilpin’s preaching, sorely against the good man’s petitions to be excused, and repeated refusals, he at length mounted the pulpit, and concluded his discourse by denouncing the enormities in the bishop’s diocese; looking at Tunstall, he said “Lest your lordship should make answer, that you had no notice of these things given you, behold, I bring them to your knowledge. Let not your lordship say these crimes have been committed by the faults of others, without your knowledge; for whatsoever either yourself shall do in person, or suffer through your connivance to be done by others, is wholly your own. Therefore,” thundered forth the faithful preacher, “in presence of God, his angels and man, I pronounce your fatherhood to be the author of all these evils; yea, and, in that strict day of the general account, I shall be a witness to testify against you, that all these things have come to your knowledge by my means: and all these men shall bear witness thereof, who have heard me speaking unto you this day.” Gilpin’s adherents, terrified at this unexpected and bold address, apprehended the worst consequences from the bishop’s power. “You have,” said they, “put a sword into his hand to slay you. If heretofore he hath been offended with you without a cause, what may you now expect from him who, being provoked, shall make use of his own power to injure you by right or wrong.” Gilpin answered, “Be not afraid; the Lord God over-ruleth us all; so that the truth may be propagated, and God glorified, God’s will be done concerning me.” After dinner, Gilpin waited on the bishop to take leave of him, and return home. “It shall not be so,” said the bishop, “for I will bring you to your house.” When they arrived at Mr. Gilpin’s house, and had entered the parlour, the bishop on a sudden caught Mr. Gilpin by the hand, and addressed him in these words:--“Father Gilpin, I acknowledge you are fitter to be bishop of Durham, than myself to be parson of this church of yours; I ask forgiveness for errors past; forgive me, father. I know you have hatched up some chickens that now seek to pick out your eyes; but so long as I shall live bishop of Durham, be secure: no man shall injure you.” Thus the fearless integrity of Gilpin, by which it was conceived he had jeopardized his life, saved him from his enemies and advanced him beyond the reach of their further hate.

After a life excellent for kindness, charity, and faithful dealing towards the people intrusted to his care, he died at the age of sixty-six worn out by labour in well doing.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Chickweed. Alsine media. Dedicated to St. Casimir.

~March 5.~

Sts. Adrian and Eubulus, A. D. 309. St. Kiaran, or Kenerin. St. Roger, A. D. 1236.

St. Piran.

This saint, anciently of good repute in Cornwall, is not mentioned by Butler. According to Porter he was born in Ireland, and became a hermit there. He afterwards came to England, and settling at Cornwall, had a grave made for him, entered into it, and dying on the 6th of March, “in the glorie of a great light and splendour that appeared at the same instant,” was buried at Padstow. “He is reported,” says Porter, “to have wrought manie wonderfull miracles in his lifetime, which bicause they tend rather to breed an incredulous amazement in the readers, then move to anie workes of vertues or pietie, we have willingly omitted.” We have had a specimen of such miracles as father Porter deemed worthy of belief; those of St. Piran which would have caused “incredulous amazement” in Porter’s readers must have been “passing wonderfull.”

St. Piran’s day is said to be a favourite with the tinners; having a tradition that some secrets regarding the manufacture of tin was communicated to their ancestors by that saint, they leave the manufacture to shift for itself for that day and keep it as a holiday.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Green Hellebore. Helleborus viridis. Dedicated to St. Adrian.

~March 6.~

St. Chrodegang, Bishop, A. D. 766. B. Colette. St. Fridolin, A. D. 538. St. Baldrede. Sts. Kyneburge, Kyneswid, and Tibba. St. Cadroe, A. D. 975.

St. Baldrede,

Bishop of Glasgow, died in London A. D. 608, and his relics were famous in many churches in Scotland. Bollandus says, “he was wonderfully buried in three places; seeing that three towns Aldham, Tinningham, and Preston, contended for his body.” In those days when there were no parish registers, these miraculous powers of self-multiplication after death, must have been sadly perplexing to topographers and antiquaries.

The “New-come” of the year is born to-day, With a strong lusty laugh, and joyous shout, Uprising, with its mother, it, in play, Throws flowers on her; pulls hard buds about, To open them for blossom; and its voice, Peeling o’er dells, plains, uplands, and high groves, Startles all living things, till they rejoice In re-creation of themselves; each loves, And blesses each; and man’s intelligence, In musings grateful, thanks All Wise Beneficence.

SPRING commences on the 6th of March, and lasts ninety-three days.

According to Mr. Howard, whose practical information concerning the seasons is highly valuable, the medium temperature during spring is elevated, in round numbers, from 40 to 58 degrees. “The mean of the season is 48.94°--the sun effecting by his approach an advance of 11.18° upon the mean temperature of the winter. This increase is retarded in the forepart of the spring by the winds from north to east, then prevalent; and which form two-thirds of the complement of the season; but proportionately accelerated afterwards by the southerly winds, with which it terminates. A strong evaporation, in the first instance followed by showers, often with thunder and hail in the latter, characterises this period. The temperature commonly rises, not by a steady increase from day to day, but by sudden starts, from the breaking in of sunshine upon previous cold, cloudy weather. At such times, the vapour appears to be now and then thrown up, in too great plenty, into the cold region above; where being suddenly decomposed, the temperature falls back for awhile, amidst wind, showers, and hail, attended, in some instances, with frost at night.”

Our ancestors varied their clothing according to the season. Strutt has given the spring dress of a man in the fourteenth century, from an illumination in a manuscript of that age: this is a copy of it.

In “Sylvan Sketches,” a new and charming volume by the lady who wrote the “Flora Domestica,” it is delightfully observed, that, “the young and joyous spirit of spring sheds its sweet influence upon every thing: the streams sparkle and ripple in the noon-day sun, and the birds carol tipseyly their merriest ditties. It is surely the loveliest season of the year.” One of our living minstrels sings of a spring day, that it

Looks beautiful, as when an infant wakes From its soft slumbers;

and the same bard poetically reminds us with more than poetical truth, that at this season, when we

See life and bliss around us flowing, Wherever space or being is, The cup of joy is full and flowing.

Bowring.

Another, whose numbers are choralled by worshipping crowds, observes with equal truth, and under the influence of high feelings, for seasonable abundance, that

To enjoy is to obey.

Watts.

* * * * *

Grateful and salutary spring the plants Which crown our numerous gardens, and Invite to health and temperance, in the simple meal, Unpoisoned with rich sauces, to provoke Th’ unwilling appetite to gluttony. For this, the bulbous esculents their roots With sweetness fill; for this, with cooling juice The green herb spreads its leaves; and opening buds, And flowers and seeds, with various flavours.

Dodsley.

* * * * *

Sweet is thy coming, Spring!--and as I pass Thy hedge-rows, where from the half-naked spray Peeps the sweet bud, and ’midst the dewy grass The tufted primrose opens to the day: My spirits light and pure confess thy pow’r Of balmiest influence: there is not a tree That whispers to the warm noon-breeze; nor flow’r Whose bell the dew-drop holds, but yields to me Predestinings of joy: O, heavenly sweet Illusion!--that the sadly pensive breast Can for a moment from itself retreat To outward pleasantness, and be at rest: While sun, and fields, and air, the sense have wrought Of pleasure and content, in spite of thought!

Athenæum.

* * * * *

In spring the ancient Romans celebrated the Ludi Florales. These were annual games in honour to Flora, accompanied by supplications for beneficent influences on the grass, trees, flowers, and other products of the earth, during the year. The Greeks likewise invoked fertility on the coming of spring with many ceremonies. The remains of the Roman festivals, in countries which the Roman arms subdued, have been frequently noticed already; and it is not purposed to advert to them further, than by observing that there is considerable difficulty in so apportioning every usage in a modern ceremony, as to assign each to its proper origin. Some may have been common to a people before they were conquered; others may have been the growth of later times. Spring, as the commencement of the natural year, must have been hailed by all nations with satisfaction; and was, undoubtedly, commemorated, in most, by public rejoicing and popular sports.

CHRONOLOGY.

Dr. Samuel Parr died on the 6th of March, 1825.

A SPRING FESTIVAL.

The Germans retain many of the annual customs peculiar to themselves before the Roman conquest. Whether a ceremony described in the “Athenæum,” as having been observed in Germany of late years, is derived from the victors, or from the ancient nations, is not worth discussing.

The approach of spring was there commemorated with an abundance of display, its allegorical character was its most remarkable feature. It was called Der Sommers-gewinn, the acquisition of summer; and about thirty years ago was celebrated at the beginning of spring by the inhabitants of Eisenach, in Saxony, who, for that purpose, divided themselves into two parties. One party carried winter under the shape of a man covered with straw, out of the town, and then, as it were, sent him into public exile; whilst the other party, at a distance from the town, decked spring, or, as it was vulgarly called, summer, in the form of youth, with boughs of cypress and May, and marched in solemn array to meet their comrades, the jocund executioners of winter. In the meanwhile national ballads, celebrating the delights of spring and summer, filled the skies; processions paraded the meadows and fields, loudly imploring the blessings of a prolific summer; and the jovial merry-makers then brought the victor-god home in triumph. In the course of time, however, this ceremonial underwent various alterations. The parts, before personified, were now performed by real dramatis personæ; one arrayed as spring, and another as winter, entertained the spectators with a combat, wherein winter was ultimately vanquished and stripped of his emblematical attire; spring, on the contrary, being hailed as victor, was led in triumph, amidst the loud acclamations of the multitude, into the town. From this festival originated a popular ballad, composed of stanzas each of which conclude thus:

Heigho! heigho! heigho! Summer is at hand! Winter has lost the game, Summer maintain’d its fame; Heigho! heigho! heigho! Summer is at hand!

The day whereon the jubilee takes place is denominated der Todten sonntag, the dead Sunday. The reason may be traced perhaps to the analogy which winter bears to the sleep of death, when the vital powers of nature are suspended. The conjecture is strengthened by this distich in the ballad before quoted:

Now we’ve vanquish’d Death, And Summer’s return ensured: Were Death still unsubdued, How much had we endured!

But of late years the spirit of this festival has disappeared. Lately, winter was uncouthly shaped of wood, and being covered with straw, was nailed against a large wheel, and the straw being set on fire, the apparatus was rolled down a steep hill! Agreeably to the intention of its inventors, the blazing wheel was by degrees knocked to pieces, against the precipices below, and then--winter’s effigy, to the admiration of the multitude, split into a thousand fiery fragments. This custom too, merely from the danger attending it, quickly fell into disuse; but still a shadow of the original festivity, which it was meant to commemorate, is preserved amongst the people of Eisenach. “Although” says the writer of these particulars, “we find winter no longer sent into banishment, as in former times, yet an attempt is made to represent and conciliate spring by offerings of nosegays and sprays of evergreen, adorned with birds or eggs, emblematical of the season.” Probably the latter usages may not have been consequent upon the decline of the former, but were coeval in their origin, and are the only remains of ancient customs peculiar to the season.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Lent Lily. Narcissus Pseudonarcissus multiplex. Dedicated to St. Colette.

~March 7.~

St. Thomas Aquinas, A. D. 1274. Sts. Perpetua and Felicitas, A. D. 203. St. Paul, Anchoret.

St. Perpetua.

This saint is in the church of England calendar. She was martyred under the emperor Severus in 205.

St. Paul the Anchoret.

This saint was “a man of profound ignorance.” Butler says he was named “the simple.” He journeyed eight days into the desert on a visit, and to become a disciple of St. Antony, who told him he was too old, and bade him return home, mind his business, and say his prayers; he shut the door upon him. Paul fasted and prayed before the door till Antony opened it, and out of compassion made a monk of him. One day after he had diligently worked at making mats and hurdles, and prayed without intermission, St. Antony bid him undo his work and do it all over again, which he did, without asking for a morsel of bread though he had been seven days without eating; this was to try Paul’s obedience. Another day when some monks came to Antony for advice, he bid Paul spill a vessel of honey and gather it up without any dust: this was another trial of his obedience. At other times he ordered him to draw water a whole day and pour it out again; to make baskets and pull them to pieces; to sew and unsew garments and the like: these were other trials of his obedience. When Antony had thus exercised him he placed him in a cell three miles from his own, proposed him as a model of obedience to his disciples, sent sick persons to him, and others possessed with the devil, whom he could not cure himself, and “under Paul,” Butler says, “they never failed of a cure.” He died about 330.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Early Daffodil. Narcissus Pseudonarcissus simplex. Dedicated to St. Perpetua.

~March 8.~

St. John of God, A. D. 1550. St. Felix, A. D. 646. Sts. Apollonius, Philemon, &c. A. D. 311. St. Julian, Abp. of Toledo, A. D. 690. St. Duthak, Bp. of Ross, A. D. 1253. St. Rosa, of Viterbo, A. D. 1261. St. Senan, 5th Cent. St. Psalmod, or Saumay, about 589.

Romish saints are like earthquakes, wherein shocks crowd so fast they cannot be noted.

An Earthquake in London.

On the 8th of March, 1750, an earthquake shook all London. The shock was at half past five in the morning. It awoke people from their sleep and frightened them out of their houses. A servant maid in Charterhouse-square, was thrown from her bed, and had her arm broken; bells in several steeples were struck by the chime hammers; great stones were thrown from the new spire of Westminster Abbey; dogs howled in uncommon tones; and fish jumped half a yard above the water.

London had experienced a shock only a month before, namely, on the 8th of February 1750, between 12 and 1 o’clock in the day. At Westminster, the barristers were so alarmed that they imagined the hall was falling.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Everblowing Rose. Rosa Semperflorens. Dedicated to St. Rosa of Viterbo. Great Jonquil. Narcissus lætus. Dedicated to St. Felix.

~March 9.~

St. Frances, Widow, A. D. 1440. St. Gregory, of Nyssa, Bp. 4th Cent. St. Pacian, Bp. A. D. 373. St. Catherine, of Bologna, A. D. 1463.

MISTS AND FALLS.

Scots’ mists, like Scots’ men, are proverbial for their penetration; Plymouth showers for their persevering frequency. The father of Mr. Haydon, the artist, relates that in the latter portion of 1807, and the first three or four months of 1808, there had been more than 160 successive days in which rain, in more or less quantities, had fallen in that neighbourhood. He adds, indeed, by way of consolation, that in winter it only rained there, while it snowed elsewhere. It has been remarked that in this opinion he might be correct; at least if he compared the climate of Plymouth with that of the western highlands. A party of English tourists are said to have stopped for several days at an uncomfortable inn, near Inverary, by the unremitting rains that fall in that country about Lammas, when one of them pettishly asked the waiter, “Does it rain here ALWAYS?” “Na! na!” replied Donald, “it snaws whiles,” i. e. sometimes.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Petticoat Daffodil. Narcissus Bulbocodium. Dedicated to St. Catherine.

~March 10.~

Forty Martyrs of St. Sebasti, A. D. 320. St. Droctovæus, Abbot, A. D. 580. St. Mackessoge.

* * * * *

The 10th of March, 1702, is erroneously said to have been the day whereon died sir Hugh Myddleton; a man renowned in English annals for having abundantly supplied London with water, by conducting the New River from Ware, in Hertfordshire, to the Clerkenwell suburb of the metropolis.

This is seen immediately on coming within view of Sadler’s Wells, a place of dramatic entertainment. After manifold windings and tunnellings from its source, the New River passes beneath the arch in the engraving, and forms a basin within a large walled enclosure, from whence diverging main pipes convey the water to all parts of London. At the back of the boy angling on the wall, is a public-house with tea-gardens and a skittle-ground, “commonly called, or known by the name or sign of, the sir Hugh Myddleton, or of the sir Hugh Myddleton’s head,” a portrait of sir Hugh hangs in front of the house. To this stream, as the water nearest London favourable to sport, anglers of inferior note repair:--

Here “gentle anglers,” and their rods withal, Essaying, do the finny tribe inthrall. Here boys their penny lines and bloodworms throw, And scare, and catch, the “silly fish” below: Backstickles bite, and biting, up they come, And now a minnow, now a miller’s thumb. Here too, experienced youths of better taste And higher aim resort, who bait with paste, Or push beneath a gentle’s shining skin The barbed hook, and bury it within; The more he writhes the better, if he die Not one will touch him of the finny fry; If in strong agony the sufferer live, Then doth the “gentle angler” joy receive, Down bobs the float, the angler wins the prize, And now the gentle, now the gudgeon dies.

Concerning Sir Hugh Myddleton there will be occasion to speak again.

GLOVE OF DEFIANCE

In the Church.

In the notice of Bernard Gilpin, March 4, (p. 332,) it is said, “another incident further illustrating the manners of the Northern Borderers will be mentioned below.” The observation refers to a singular challenge, which the arrangements of that day could not include, and is now inserted.

On a certain Sunday Mr. Gilpin going to preach in those parts wherein deadly feuds prevailed, observed a glove hanging up on high in the church. He demanded of the sexton what it meant, and why it hung there. The sexton answered, that it was a glove which one of the parish hung up there as a challenge to his enemy, signifying thereby, that he was ready to enter combat hand to hand, with him or any one else who should dare to take the glove down. Mr. Gilpin requested the sexton to take it down. “Not I, sir,” replied the sexton, “I dare do no such thing.” Then Mr. Gilpin, calling for a long staff, took down the glove himself, and put it in his bosom. By and by, when the people came to church, and Mr. Gilpin in due time went up into the pulpit, he in his sermon reproved the barbarous custom of challenges, and especially the custom which they had, of making challenges by the hanging up of a glove. “I hear,” said he, “that there is one amongst you, who, even in this sacred place, hath hanged up a glove to this purpose, and threateneth to enter into combat with whosoever shall take it down. Behold, I have taken it down myself.” Then plucking out the glove, he showed it openly, and inveighing against such practices in any man that professed himself a Christian, endeavoured to persuade them to the practice of mutual love and charity.

THE SEASON.

The memory of man supplies no recollection of so wet a season as from September 1824 to March 1825; it produced the rot in sheep to an alarming extent. In consequence of the animals being killed in this disease, the mutton is unwholesome for human food, and produces mortality even in dogs. The newspapers relate that such mutton given to a kennel of dogs rendered them fat, till on a sudden their good looks declined, they became lean, and gradually died, without any other cause being assignable for the mortality, than the impure flesh of the sheep. In such a season, therefore, families should shrink from the use of mutton as from a pestilence. There is no security, but in entire abstinence. Almost every hare shot during the same period had a tainted liver. Under such circumstances lamb should be sparingly used, and, if possible, refrained from altogether, in order to secure mutton at a reasonable price hereafter.

CHRONOLOGY.

1792. John, earl of Bute, died. He was prime minister soon after the accession of George III.; and of all who guided the helm of state, the most unpopular.

* * * * *

On the 10th of March, 1820, died Benjamin West, esq., president of the Royal Academy, in the eighty-second year of his age. It was his delight to gently lead genius in a young artist; and Mr. WILLIAM BEHNES, the sculptor, was honoured by the venerable president with the means of transmitting his parting looks to an admiring world, upon whom he was soon to look no more. Mr. West’s sittings to Mr. Behnes were about two months before his death. Expressing himself to his young friend in terms of high satisfaction at the model, he encouraged him to persevere in that branch of art which Mr. Behnes has since distinguished, by admirable power of design and use of the chisel. To speak of Mr. Behnes’s model as a mere likeness, is meagre praise of an effort which clearly marks observation, and comprehension, of Mr. West’s great mental powers. The bust, as it stands in marble, in sir John Leicester’s gallery, is a perfect resemblance of Mr. West’s features, and an eloquent memorial of his vigorous and unimpaired intellect in the last days of earthly existence. If ever the noblest traits of humanity were depicted by the hand of art, they are on this bust. Superiority of mind is so decidedly marked, and blended, with primitive simplicity, and a beaming look of humanity and benevolence, that it seems the head of an apostle.

Mr. West was an American; he was born at Springfield, in Pennsylvania, on the 10th of October, 1738; his ancestors and parents were “Friends:” the family had emigrated from England with the illustrious founder and legislator of Pennsylvania, WILLIAM PENN: of whose treaty with the Indians for a tract of their territory, it is observed, that it was the only christian contract unsanctioned by an oath, and the only one never violated.[17] The first of the family who embraced Quaker principles was colonel James West, the friend and companion in arms of the great John Hampden.

Mr. West’s genius developed itself very early. When a child he saw an infant smile in its sleep, and forcibly struck with its beauty, seized pens, ink, and paper, which happened to lie by him, and endeavoured to delineate a portrait; at this period he had never seen an engraving or a picture. He was afterwards sent to school in the neighbourhood, and during hours of leisure was permitted to draw with a pen and ink. It did not occur to any of the family to provide him with better materials, till a party of Indians being amused with little Benjamin’s sketches of birds and flowers, taught him to prepare the red and yellow colours with which they painted their ornaments, and his mother adding blue, by giving him a piece of indigo, he became possessed of the three primary colours. As he could not procure camels’ hair pencils, and did not even know of their existence, he supplied the deficiency by cutting fur from the end of the cat’s tail. From the frequent necessity for repeating this depredation, his father observed the altered appearance of his favourite, and lamented it as the effect of disease; the young artist, with due contrition, informed his father of the true cause, and the old gentleman was highly pleased by his son’s ingenuousness. Mr. Pennington, a merchant of Philadelphia, struck with the genius of the child, sent him a box of paints and pencils, with some canvass, and six engravings by Grevling. Little West rose with the dawn of the next day, carried the box into the garret, prepared a pallet, began to imitate the figures in the engravings, omitted to go to school, and joined the family at dinner, without mentioning how he had been occupied. In the afternoon he again retired to his garret; and for several successive days thus devoted himself to painting. The schoolmaster, however, sent to know the reason of his absence. Mrs. West recollecting that she had seen Benjamin going up stairs every morning, and suspecting that it was the box which occasioned this neglect of the school, affected not to notice the message, but went immediately to the garret, and found him employed on the picture. If she had anger, it was changed to a different feeling by the sight of his performance; she kissed him with transports of affection, and assured him that she would intercede to prevent his being punished. It seemed ever the highest pleasure of Mr. West emphatically to declare, that it was this kiss that made him a painter.

After numerous indications of uncontrollable passion for his favourite and only pursuit, a consultation of “Friends” was held, on the propriety of allowing young West to indulge a taste, which the strict discipline of the society inhibits:--

Genius has such resistless power That e’en the Quaker, stern and plain, Felt for the blooming painter boy.

The destiny he desired was fixed. In 1760 he left Philadelphia for Rome, pursued his studies in the capital of art, visited the galleries and collections of Italy with an ardour that impaired his health, came through France to London, and was about to return to America, when sir Joshua Reynolds, and Wilson, the landscape painter, used their utmost persuasions to detain him in this country. There was only one obstacle; he had formed an attachment on his native soil:

Wheree’er he turn’d, whatever realms to see, His heart, untravell’d, fondly turn’d

to her whom he loved. This difficulty was overcome, for the lady, Miss Shewell, came over; they were married in London, in 1764. Thus “settled,” in the following year Mr. West was chosen a member and one of the directors of the Society of Artists, afterwards incorporated with the Royal Academy, which he assisted in forming, and over which he afterwards presided till his death.

As an artist his works in the various collections and edifices throughout England exhibit his talents, but above all “West’s Gallery,” now open in Newman-street for public inspection, is an assemblage of testimonials to the justice of his fame among his adopted countrymen. His talent germinated on the shores of the Atlantic, but with us it flourished. America at that period was not sufficiently advanced to cultivate his genius: now that she has risen in commerce and the arts, and taken her stand among the nations, she will retain her future Wests to adorn her greatness. May the people of England and America contend with each other no more but in works of peace and good will; and may the interchange of talented individuals from each, contribute to the prosperity and moral grandeur of both countries!

As a man, Mr. West’s characteristics were kindness and warmth of heart. From accordant feelings, he painted with delight and energy some of the most affecting incidents in the New Testament history. His “Christ healing the sick” will be remembered by all who saw it, with reverend solemnity. In his “Christ Rejected,” the various bad passions in the malignant spectators and abettors of the outrage; the patient suffering of the great and all-enduring character; the sympathizing feelings of his adherents; and the general accessories, are great lineaments of the designer’s power. His “Death on the Pale Horse,” and more especially the sketch for that painting, express masterly thought and conception. These are Mr. West’s “large” pictures. Some of his smaller ones and his sketches, the beholder studies and lingers over till his limbs and body tire; and he leaves the large assemblage of paintings in “West’s Gallery” with a conviction, that no artist has yet fully occupied his place. Perhaps there is only one who would have designed the “Death on the Pale Horse” more effectively, and he would have had no compeer--Mr. Fuseli; whose compositions are of a higher order than those of any other in this country, and will be duly estimated when the price set upon his works cannot be useful to their author. No one is valued till he is dead; after the last sigh has sobbed from the body, comes the time for some to suspect that they had inflicted pangs upon its infirmity when living, and a desire to know more of a man, the rufflings of whose dying pillow the breath of their friendship might have smoothed, and whom, to the extent of their comprehension they might have known, if their little feelings, in a state too easy, had not excluded him from their society.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Upright Chickweed. Veronica triphyllos. Dedicated to St. Droctavæus.

[17] Voltaire’s Philosophical Dictionary, London edit. vol. v. p. 367.

~March 11.~

St. Eulogius of Cordova, A. D. 859. St. Sophronius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, A. D. 640. St. Ængus, Bishop, A. D. 824. St. Constantine, 6th Cent.

CHRONOLOGY.

1752. Papers were affixed in the avenues to both houses of parliament, giving notice that the farmers and their servants intended to destroy the pheasant and partridge eggs, and leverets, if the country gentlemen, who had entered into an association for the preservation of game, did not desist. There were sad hearts at this time between the owners and occupiers of land, from the obnoxiousness of the game laws, and the severity of their execution.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Cornish Heath. Erica vaguus. Dedicated to St. Eulogius.

~March 12.~

St. Gregory the Great. St. Maximilian, A. D. 296. St. Paul, Bishop of Leon, about 573.

St. Gregory the Great.

He was prætor of Rome in 574, under the emperor Justin; next year he became a monk, and by fasting and study so weakened his stomach, that he swooned if he did not frequently eat. “What gave him the greatest affliction,” says Butler, “was, his not being able to fast on an Easter-eve; a day on which, says St. John the deacon, ‘every one, not even excepting little children are used to fast;’ whereupon, by praying that he might be enabled to fast, he not only fasted, but quite forgot his illness.” He determined to come to Britain to propagate the faith; but the whole city rose in an uproar to prevent his departure, and the pope constrained him to remain. Pope Pelagius II. sent him as nuncio to Constantinople, where Eutychius fell into an error, importing that after the resurrection glorified bodies would not be palpable, but of a more subtile texture than air. Whereupon, says Butler, St. Gregory was alarmed, and clearly demonstrated that their bodies would be the same which they had on earth, and Eutychius retracted his error: on his return to Rome he took with him an arm of St. Andrew, and the head of St. Luke. Pelagius made him his secretary, and after his death was elected pope himself. To escape from the danger of this elevation, he got himself carried out of Rome in a wicker basket, and lay concealed in woods and caverns for three days. He was afterwards consecrated with great pomp, and on that occasion sent a synodal epistle to the other patriarchs, wherein he declared that “he received the four councils as the four gospels.” Butler says, he extended his charity to the heretics, and “to the very Jews,” yet he afterwards adds, that in Africa “he extirpated the Donatists.” He subscribed himself in his letters, “Servant of the Servants of God.” He sent to the empress Constantina a veil which had touched the relics of the apostles, and assured her that miracles had been wrought by such relics, and promised her some dust-filings of the chains of St. Paul. He sent St. Austin and other monks to convert the English. (See February 24, St. Ethelbert.) He died on the 25th of January, 604.[18] His devotion to the church was constant; he was learned, enterprising, sincere, and credulous, and, for the times wherein he lived, charitable, and merciful. It should be observed, that he was the author of the church-singing called the Gregorian chaunt.

Many miracles are related of St. Gregory, as that going to bless a church in honour of St. Agnes, which had been used by the Arians, he caused the relics to be placed on the altar, whereon a hog went grunting out of the church with a fearful noise; whence it was averred that the devil, who had been served in it by the heretic Arians, was driven out by the relics. Sometimes the lamps were miraculously lighted. One day a bright cloud descended on the altar, with a heavenly odour, so that from reverence no one dared to enter the church. At another time, when Gregory was transubstantiating the wafers a woman laughed; he asked her why she laughed? to which at length she answered, “because you call the bread which I made with my own hands the body of our Lord;” whereupon he prayed, and the consecrated bread appeared flesh to every one present; and the woman was converted, and the rest were confirmed. At another time, some ambassadors coming to Rome for relics, Gregory took a linen cloth which had been applied to the body of a saint, and enclosing it in a box gave it to them. While on their journey home they were curious to see the contents of the box: and finding nothing within it but the cloth, returned to St. Gregory complaining that he had deceived them. On this he took the cloth, laid it on the altar, prayed, pricked it with a knife, the cloth shed blood, and the astonished ambassadors reverently took back the box. Another time one who had been excommunicated by St. Gregory for having put away his lawful wife, bargained with certain sorcerers and witches for revenge; who, when the holy pope rode through the city, sent the devil into his horse, and made him caper, so that he could not be held; then with the sign of the cross the pope cast out the devil, and the witches by miracle becoming blind were converted, and St. Gregory baptized them; yet he would not restore their sight, lest they should read their magical books again, but maintained them out of the church rents. After his death there was a famine in Rome, and the people being falsely persuaded that St. Gregory had wasted the church property, gathered his writings to burn them; wherefore Peter, the deacon, who had been intimate with Gregory, affirmed, that “he had often seen the Holy Ghost, in form of a dove upon St. Gregory’s head whilst he was writing, and that it would be an insufferable affront to burn those books, which had been written by his inspiration;” and to assure them of this he offered to confirm it by oath, but stipulated that if he died immediately after he had taken the oath, they should believe that he had told them the truth: this being assented to, he took the oath, and thereupon died, and the people believed; and “hence the painters came to represent St. Gregory, with a dove at his ear, to signify that the Holy Ghost inspired and dictated what he writ.”[19]

It is also a legend concerning St. Gregory, that when he fled from Rome to avoid the dignity of popedom and lay hid, a bright pillar of fire descending from heaven, glittered above his head, and angels appeared descending and ascending by the same fiery pillar upon him, wherefore he was “miraculously betrayed.”[20]

After St. Gregory’s death there was a hermit, who had left all his goods, and left the world, and kept nothing but his cat, and this cat he used to play with, and hold in his lap tenderly: one day he prayed that it might be revealed to him, to the joy of what saint he should hereafter come; then St. Gregory was revealed to him, and that he should come to his joy; wherefore the hermit sighed, and disliked his poverty, because St. Gregory had possessed so much earthly riches: and in revelation it was commanded him to be quiet, because he had more pleasure in stroking and playing with his cat, than St. Gregory had in all his riches. Then the hermit prayed that he might have the like merit and reward with St. Gregory; and in this story, lieth great moral.

DOMESTIC MEDICINE.

Although this is not a family receipt-book, yet a prescription is extracted from the “Yea and Nay Almanack for 1678,” because the remedy has been tried and approved.

For the Eyes.

In the morning as soon as you rise, instead of fasting spittle, or a cat’s tail, rub your eyes with a hundred broad pieces of your own gold; and I tell thee friend, it will not only do thy eyes good, but thy purse also.

CHRONOLOGY.

1689. King James II. landed at Kinsale in Ireland, with an army he brought from France, to assist in the recovery of the throne he had abdicated. He afterwards made a public entry into Dublin, and besieged Londonderry, which vigorously defended itself under the rev. George Walker, and suffered dreadful privations till it was relieved, and the siege abandoned. He then held a parliament in Dublin, coined base money, and committed various outrages, till William III. signally defeated him at the battle of the Boyne, and compelled him to fly to France.

SOCIETY FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF LITERATURE.

Among the proposals in 1825, a year prolific of projects, there is one for a Joint Stock Company or Society for the Encouragement of Literature; the capital to be £100,000. in shares of £25. to be increased, if advisable; shareholders to be allowed to subscribe at par; each shareholder to be entitled to a copy of every work published by the society, at two-thirds of the publication price; interest 5 per cent., to be paid half yearly on the instalments subscribed; a deposit of £1. per share to be paid on subscribing, the remainder by instalments as the extension of the society’s concerns may demand; of the profits one-fourth to form a fund for the benefit of authors, at the discretion of the society; two-fourths to be divided among the proprietors annually; the remaining one-fourth to accumulate into a perpetual triennial fund, to meet unforeseen expenditure, the possibility of loss, &c. &c. &c. There is not one word about the Encouragement of Literature beyond the title. This absence is the most intelligible part of the proposals.

There was a Society for the Encouragement of Learning, established in May, 1736. The duke of Richmond was president, sir Hugh Smithson, (afterwards duke of Northumberland,) and sir Thomas Robinson, bart., were vice-presidents. The trustees were the earl of Hertford, earl of Abercorn, Harley, earl of Oxford, earl Stanhope, lord Percival, Dr. Mead, Dr. Birch, Paul Whitehead, Ward, the professor at Gresham college, Sale, the translator of the Koran, and other really eminent men; Alexander Gordon, the author of “Iter Septentrionale,” a “History of Amphitheatres,” and other learned and antiquarian works, was their secretary. In the December of the same year Gordon wrote a letter to Dr. Richardson, master of Emanuel college Cambridge, soliciting his interference with Dr. Conyers Middleton, to obtain for the society the publication of the life of Cicero. “They have already entirely paved the way for the reception of authors,” says Gordon; “appointed booksellers for their service; settled the regulations concerning printers, and the printing part;” and, “in fine nothing is wanting but to set out with some author of genius and note.” Dr. Middleton chose to publish his life of Cicero with a bookseller, notwithstanding an army of really great names had made all those arrangements, and courted him to their encouragement. In the outset of this society Mr. Clarke in a letter to Mr. Bowyer expressed his conviction, that “it must be at last a downright trading society,” and said “I hope you will take care to be one of their printers, for there will certainly be a society for encouraging printing.” Mr. Bowyer took the hint, and printed for them. The security was good, because each member of such a society is answerable individually for its debts. At the end of three years “Dr. Birch, as treasurer to the society, handed over to Mr. Stephen le Bas, his successor in office, the astonishing balance of 59_l._ 3_s._ 9½_d._ During that period the society had printed only four books; and then, deeming the assistance of booksellers necessary, they entered into a contract for three years with A. Millar, J. Gray, and J. Nourse; afterwards they contracted with six other booksellers, whose profits they retrenched: then they became their own booksellers; then they once more had recourse to three other booksellers; and finally, finding their finances almost exhausted, they laid before the public a memorial of the Present State of Affairs of the Society, April 17, 1748,” whereby it appeared that they had incurred so considerable a debt they could proceed no further.[21]

Less than fifty years ago another society existed, under the very title of the Joint Stock Society proposed in 1825. Mr. Tyson, in a letter of June 21, 1779, to his friend Mr. Gough, the antiquary, mentions that a bequest of £5. was “left at the disposal of the Society for the Encouragement of Literature.”[22] If the literature of the present day owes its existence to that society, its offspring is most ungrateful; the foster-parent is not even remembered, nor is the time of its birth or death recorded in any public register. That it survived the bequest alluded to, only a very short period, appears certain; for in the very next year, 1780, Dr. Lettsom issued “Hints for establishing a Society for promoting useful Literature.” The doctor, a most benevolent man, and a good physician, dispensed much charity in private as well as in public, and patronized almost every humane institution for the relief and cure of human infirmity; and hence his eye was as microscopic in discernment, as his hand was experimental in the healing of griefs. Literature seems to have been to him as a gentle river that he rilled into, and which he thought could be diverted, or regulated by new channels and sluices; he appeared not to know, that it is an ocean of mighty waters, with countless currents and varying tides. He proposed largesses to indigent writers, and their widows and orphans, and “honorary rewards” to successful ones. Robertson, Bryant, Melmoth, Johnson, Gibbon, and many other “useful and accomplished writers,” were to have had the “honorary rewards” of the encouraging society. Such honours, such a society was to have forced on such men! The doctor’s “hints” were not adopted, except that to relieve the casualties of minor literary men, and their dependents, there now exists the Literary Fund.

In the records of former days there is mention of a project for extracting, bottling, and preserving sunbeams from cucumbers, for use at that season when sunbeams are rare, and cucumbers not at all. The projector seems to have inferred, that as cucumbers derived their virtue from sunbeams, it would be virtuous in cucumbers to return the deposit. Whatever virtue cucumbers had, it would not be forced. Experiment, doubtless, disappointed hope; the promising project absorbed the capital advanced, as completely as the cholicky vegetables tenaciously retained the solar rays; and the deposit never found its way to the shareholders.

Any Society for the Encouragement of Literature, save one, is a fallacy--that one is society itself. All interposition in its behalf is feeble and doting interference. A public Joint Stock Company can neither create literary talent, nor by divided efforts obtain so much; nor with capital, however great, reward it so well, as the undivided interest, industry, and unshared purse of the private publisher.

If a Society for the Encouragement of Literature be instituted, when more institution is threatened, and less institution is necessary, than at any former period, such society will be a hot-bed for the cultivation of little more than hopeful weeds. A few literary shoots may be set in warm borders, and drawn up under frames, to look handsome, but they will not bear transplanting to open ground. Their produce will be premature, of inferior quality, and not repay the trouble and expense of rearing. If left unsheltered, the first chill will kill them. Weak suckers, however well favoured, will never come to trees.

The monarch of the forest, in natural solitude, drinking sunshine and dews, uninterrupted and untainted by human encroachments, and striking deep root beneath virgin earth, attains, in fulness of time, to majestic growth. In like manner the silent spirit of man, seeking peace in solitary imaginings, penetrating below the foundations of human knowledge, and generalizing and embodying the objects of sight and feeling, arrives to a grandeur astonishing to men’s eyes, because not the work of men’s hands. This self-created power, is denominated Genius. In an incipient state it evaporates beneath the meddling touch, and at maturity soars above its reach. Talent is ungovernable. It directs itself, appoints its own trustees for uses, and draws drafts upon the public which are honoured at sight. The demand for talent is greater than the supply.

What is to be done?--nothing. What can be done?--nothing. Literature must be let alone. Under bounties and drawbacks, it becomes tortuous and illicit.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Channelled Ixia. Ixia Bulbocodium. Dedicated to St. Gregory.

[18] Butler’s Saints.

[19] Ribadeneira’s Saints.

[20] Porter’s Flowers.

[21] Nichols’s Anecdotes.

[22] Ibid.

~March 13.~

St. Nicephorus, Patriarch of Constantinople, A. D. 828. _St. Euphrasia_, A. D. 410. St. Theophanes, Abbot, A. D. 818. _St. Kennocha_, A. D. 1007. St. Gerald, Bishop, A. D. 732. _St. Mochoemoc_, in Latin, Pulcherius, Abbot, A. D. 655.

~Mid-Lent Sunday.~

Mothering Sunday.--Refreshment Sunday.--Rose Sunday.

This is the fourth Sunday in Lent, and noted as a holiday in the church of England calendar.

On this day boys went about, in ancient times, into the villages with a figure of death made of straw; from whence they were generally driven by the country people; who disliked it as an ominous appearance, while some gave them money to get the mawkin carried off. Its precise meaning under that form is doubtful, though it seems likely to have purported the death of Winter, and to have been only a part of another ceremony conducted by a larger body of boys, from whom the death-carriers were a detachment, and who consisted of a large assemblage carrying two figures to represent Spring and Winter, whereof one was called “Sommer tout”--

Apparelde all in greene, and drest in youthful fine arraye; The other Winter, cladde in mosse, with heare all hoare and graye.[23]

These two figures they bore about, and fought; in the fight Summer, or Spring, got the victory over Winter, and thus was allegorized the departure or burial of the death of the year, and its commencement or revival as Spring. The custom described on March the 6th, (p. 339,) was only a variation of the present, wherein also the boys carried about cracknels or cakes:--

Thus children also beare, with speares, their cracknelles round about.[24]

It is still a custom on Mid-Lent Sunday in many parts of England, for servants and apprentices to carry cakes or some nice eatables or trinkets, as presents to their parents; and in other parts, to visit their mother for a meal of furmity, or to receive cakes from her with her blessing. This is called going a mothering.[25] Herrick mentions this custom in Gloucestershire:

I’le to thee a simnell bring ’Gainst thou go’st a mothering, So that when she blesseth thee Half that blessing thoul’t give me.

Going a mothering is from the Roman catholic custom of going to the mother-church on Mid-Lent Sunday, to make offerings at the high altar; and that custom of the Romish Church is derived from the Hilaria, a heathen festival celebrated by the ancient Romans, in honour of the Mother of the Gods on the ides of March.[26] The offerings at the altars were in their origin voluntary, and became church property. At length the parish priests compounded with the church at a certain sum, and these voluntary donations of the people have become the dues known by the name of Easter Offerings.

Mid-Lent, or Mothering Sunday is likewise called Refreshment Sunday, “the reason of which,” says Wheatly, (on the Common Prayer) “I suppose is the Gospel for that day, which treats of our Saviour’s miraculously feeding five thousand; or else, perhaps, from the first lesson in the morning, which gives us the story of Joseph entertaining his brethren.” It is also denominated Rose Sunday, from the pope on this day carrying a golden rose in his hand, which he exhibits on his way to and from mass.[27]

On this day at Seville there is an usage evidently the remains of an old custom. Children of all ranks, poor and gentle, appear in the streets fantastically dressed, somewhat like English chimney-sweepers on May-day, with caps of gilt and coloured paper, and coats made of the crusade bulls of the preceding year. During the whole day they make an incessant din with drums and rattles, and cry “Saw down the old woman.” At midnight, parties of the commonalty parade the streets, knock at every door, repeat the same cries, and conclude by sawing in two the figure of an old woman representing Lent. This division is emblematical of Mid-Lent.[28]

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Heartsease. Viola Tricolor. Dedicated to St. Euphrasia.

[23] Gouge’s Naogeorgus.

[24] Ibid.

[25] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[26] Fosbroke’s British Monachism.

[27] Shepherd, on Common Prayer.

[28] Doblado’s Letters.

~March 14.~

St. Maud, or Mathildis, Queen, A. D. 968. Sts. Acepsimas, Bishop, Joseph, and Aithilahas, A. D. 380. St. Boniface, Bishop of Ross, about 630.

CHRONOLOGY.

1733. The Excise scheme was first moved in the House of Commons, by resolutions, which were powerfully resisted, but on the 16th finally carried, and the Excise bill brought in. On the 4th of April the bill was read a first time, and carried by a majority of 36; the majority being 230, the minority 200. There were petitions against it from every trading town of the kingdom, and great tumults in London; the obnoxious members were attacked on their way to parliament. The measure was so unpopular that it was for that time dropped, whereon public feeling was manifested by general illuminations, and other rejoicings.

1757. Admiral John Byng, second son of lord viscount Torrington, was shot at Portsmouth, under the sentence of a court martial, for not having done his duty in an action between the British and French fleets on the 20th of May preceding. After he had made his defence, and conducted himself throughout the trial with coolness and courage, he was so sure of acquittal, that he ordered his coach to be in waiting to convey him to London. He suffered on board the Monarque with undaunted firmness, walking out of the cabin with unchanged countenance to the quarter-deck, where the marines were stationed to execute the sentence. He desired to die with his eyes uncovered; but on its being represented that his intrepid looks might intimidate the soldiers, and frustrate their aim, he tied a handkerchief over his eyes, and then dropping another, five musket balls passed through his body, and he fell dead instantly. An historian of the day says of him, that “Whatever his errors and indiscretions might have been, he seemed to have been rashly condemned, meanly given up, and cruelly sacrificed to vile considerations.” It is believed that popular fury had been excited against him by various arts, and especially by the suppression of important passages in his official despatches. He delivered a paper to the marshal of the admiralty on the morning of his death, wherein he expressed his conviction, that he should hereafter be regarded as a victim to divert the indignation and resentment of an injured and deluded people from the proper objects, and that his very enemies believed him innocent.

1797. Courtney Melmoth died at Bath, aged 89 years; he translated part of “Cicero’s Works,” and “Pliny’s Epistles,” and wrote “Fitzosborne’s Letters,” and the “Memoirs of a late eminent Advocate;” his father was the author of “The great Importance of a Religious Life.”

1803. Frederick Klopstock, a German writer, author of the “Messiah” and other works, chiefly poetical, died at Hamburgh, aged 80. His funeral was a public one, and conducted with a marked solemnity, denoting affectionate respect for his talents and character.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Mountain Soldanel. Soldanella Alpina. Dedicated to St. Maud.

~March 15.~

St. Abraham, Hermit, and his niece, St. Mary, 4th Cent. St. Zachary, Pope, A. D. 752.

CHRONOLOGY.

Forty-four years before Christ, Julius Cæsar was assassinated by Brutus and his associates in the senate-house of Rome, in the 56th year of his age. He is said to have conquered three hundred nations, taken eight hundred cities, defeated three hundred millions of men, and slain one hundred millions on the field of battle. He was learned himself, and an encourager of learning and the arts. He wrote the “Commentaries on the wars of Gaul,” a book which bears his name, and which would have been lost in the bay of Alexandria, if he had not swam from his ship with his book in one hand, and his arms in the other. His ruling passion was ambition, yet he was a slave to sensuality; with talents that might have made him the protector of Roman liberty he destroyed it.

1784. Dr. Thomas Franklin, translator of Sophocles, Phalaris, and Lucian, died. He was born about 1720, and wrote two tragedies, the “Earl of Warwick” and “Matilda.”

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Coltsfoot. Tussilago Farfala. Dedicated to St. Zachery. Lasting Mercury. Mercurialis perennis. Dedicated to St. Abraham.

~March 16.~

St. Julian, of Cilicia. St. Finian, surnamed Lobhar, or the Leper.

St. Finian.

He was descended from Alild, king of Munster, built the abbey of Innis-Fallen in an island on the lake of Loughlane, county of Kerry; another at Ardfinnan, in Tipperary; and a third at Cluin-more Madoc, in Leinster, where he was buried.[29]

It is related of St. Finian, that he visited St. Ruadanus, who had a miraculous tree in his cell, dropping a liquor so peculiar, into a vessel from nine o’clock to sun-set, that it sufficed to dine him and all his brotherhood every day. St. Finian’s visit was to persuade St. Ruadanus to live like other people; therefore, when St. Finian came to the tree, he signed it with the sign of the cross, by virtue of which the liquor ceased to flow after nine o’clock. This was in the absence of Ruadanus, who being informed on his return, that St. Finian and others had come to see him, he ordered his servant to prepare the miraculous water dinner as usual; the servant surprised to find the vessel empty, told his master, who bade him to fill it with common water from a fountain, which he had no sooner done, than the water was changed into the liquor that flowed from the tree. St. Ruadanus ordered the man to carry it to St. Finian, who making a cross over the liquor, changed it back to water, and said why is this liquor of a false name given to me? St. Finian’s companions urged him to go and cross the fountain as he had crossed the tree; but Finian answered, it would only grieve Ruadanus, who would go to the next bog, and change the water there into the same liquor. In the end, St. Finian and his companions persuaded St. Ruadanus not to work any more miracles, but to live as others did, whereunto he yielded. Thus St. Finian having out-miracled the miracle of St. Ruadanus, and stopped him from working the same miracle again, departed with his companions.[30]

CHRONOLOGY.

1723. March 16, a royal proclamation was issued for a thanksgiving for our preservation from the plague.

[It has been lately proved that the plague is not contagious. Dr. Maclean is understood to have established the fact to the satisfaction of government, and it is in contemplation to repeal the present laws of quarantine.]

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Nodding Daffodil. Narcissus nutans. Dedicated to St. Julian.

[29] Butler’s Saints.

[30] Patrick’s Devotions.

~March 17.~

St. Patrick. St. Joseph, of Arimathea. St. Gertrude, Abbess, A. D. 626.

ST. PATRICK,

Apostle of Ireland.

St. Patrick was born towards the end of the fourth century, in Killpatrick, between Dunbriton and Glasgow. At sixteen he was carried off with many of his father’s vassals into slavery, and compelled for six months to keep cattle on the mountains in Ireland, from whence he escaped through the humanity of some sailors. He travelled into Gaul and Italy, and received his apostolical mission to convert the Irish, from pope Celestine, who died in 432. Determined on attempting the conversion of the people, he penetrated to the remotest corners of Ireland, baptized multitudes, ordained clergy to preside over them, instituted monks, gave alms to the poor of the provinces, made presents to the kings, educated children to serve at the altar, held councils, founded monasteries, restored health to the sick, sight to the blind, raised dead persons to life, continued his missions during forty years, and died at Down in Ulster, where he was buried. Such, in brief, is Alban Butler’s account, who assigns the year 464, for a period wherein he lived.

Ribadeneira affirms it, as a most famous miracle, and well known to the whole world, that St. Patrick did so free Ireland of all venomous beasts, that none could ever since breed or live there, and that even the very wood has a virtue against poison, “so that it is reported of king’s college, Cambridge, that being built of Irish wood, no spider doth ever come near it.”

Jocelin, a Cistercian monk of Furnes in the twelfth century, wrote “The Life and Acts of St. Patrick,” wherein he relates many extraordinary particulars, of which the few that follow are specimens: St. Patrick when a child in winter time brought home some pieces of ice, his nurse told him he had better have brought home wood, whereupon he heaped together the ice, and prayed, and the ice immediately became a bonfire. After this his foster-father died, and to relieve his nurse’s distress, St. Patrick prayed, signed him with the sign of the cross, and so restored him to life. Then by the same sign he freed a cow from an evil spirit; recovered five cows she had wounded; and, by the same means, when his nurse was ill and longed for honey, he “immediately changed water into the best honey.” At another time, when she was commanded to clean out some filthy stables, St. Patrick prayed, and they were cleaned without hands. Then St. Patrick himself was carried into slavery, and sold for a kettle; but the kettle being placed on the fire, the hotter the fire burned, the colder became the kettle; whereupon the seller of St. Patrick returned the kettle, took St. Patrick back, and the vessel was restored to its wonted power of boiling. St. Patrick desiring to eat meat, obtained some pork, and having concealed it for a convenient season, presently he saw a man with eyes before and eyes behind, and asked him why he was so formed; the seer answered, “I am the servant of God; with the eyes in my forehead I see things open to view, with my eyes behind I see a monk hiding flesh meat in a vessel to satisfy his appetite privately.” Then the seer vanished. St. Patrick repented, prayed for pardon, besought for a sign that he had it, was told by an angel to put the pork into water, did as the angel bid him, and the pork “immediately became fishes.” Having journeyed into Britain, he saw a leper whom mariners would not carry in their ship, whereon St. Patrick took a stone altar consecrated by the pope, cast it into the sea, caused the leper to sit on it, and the leper immediately set sail on the stone, kept company with the ship all the voyage, and got into port with her at the same time. St. Patrick, returning to Ireland, on approaching the shore, saw a multitude of devils in the form of a globe surrounding the whole island, when he “raised his sacred right hand, made the sign of the cross, and, unhurt and unterrified, passed he over.” Some fishermen in the county of Leinster, drawing their nets from a river loaded with fish, St. Patrick asked them for some; they refused him; he cursed them, and the river; and from that day the river never produced fish. Once when the chief king of Ireland ordered his subjects to prevent St. Patrick from landing, they set a fierce dog at him, whereupon the dog stiffened like a stone; then a gigantic man brandished his sword at the saint, the man stiffened likewise, but repented, and St. Patrick unstiffened him, and baptized him. An old man, would not believe St. Patrick’s preaching. St. Patrick asked him whether he would be persuaded by a miracle; the old man said he would, then St. Patrick prayed, laid his hand on him, “and immediately the old man became beautiful and young, and flourished again, as in his early youth,” and was so made to believe. Having converted Mochna, a virtuous swineherd, while they were conversing together, a staff from heaven fell between them, which St. Patrick gave to Mochna for a pastoral staff, consecrated him bishop of Edrum, “and the staff is in that church still preserved, and called the flying staff.”

St. Patrick’s nephew, St. Lumanus, being desirous of taking a journey by sea when wind and tide were against him, he hoisted the sails, trusted in the merits of St. Patrick, and, “O, miracle till then unheard and unknown! the ship, without any pilot, sailed against wind and stream,” and he made a prosperous voyage. At another time, St. Patrick seeing a hundred men unable to stir a large stone, he, alone, raised it up, and placed it where it was wanted. He was accustomed to stop and erect a cross at the head-stone of every christian who was buried outside of a burial-place; one day, coming to the graves of two men newly buried, and observing that one of the graves only had a cross over it, he stopped his chariot, and speaking to the dead man below, asked him what religion he had been, the dead man answered a pagan, St. Patrick inquired why then a cross was put over him, the dead pagan replied, he who is buried near me was a christian, and one of your faith coming hither placed the cross at my head; the saint stepped out of his chariot, rectified the mistake, and went his way. One Foylge, an idolator, strangled the driver of St. Patrick’s chariot, in his seat, wherefore the saint cast his “holy curse” at Foylge, who pierced thereby, fell dead into hell; but the devil entering the dead body, walked about in it, and seemed as if he were Foylge himself, till one day St. Patrick called at the dead man’s house, and asking the family where Foylge was, they answered he was at home, when the saint told them of Foylge’s death, and that Satan “had entered into his corpse and occupied it as his own proper vessel,” then St. Patrick gave notice to the devil to leave his lodging in Foylge’s body, which he did immediately, and Foylge was buried. Preaching on a journey to 14,000 men, “he first fed them all with spiritual food,” then commanding a cow to be killed, with two stags, and a couple of boars, the people ate abundantly, the remnants were gathered up; and “thus with the flesh of five animals, did St. Patrick plenteously feed 14,000 men.” Once when he was preaching, by way of a strong argument, he raised to life nineteen dead men, one of whom had been buried for ten years. After that, St. Patrick passing over a river one of his teeth dropped into the water, and his disciples could not find it till night, when the tooth in the river shone as a radiant star, and being so discovered was brought to St. Patrick, who on that spot built a church, and deposited his tooth beneath the altar. Desiring to pass an impassable river, and no boat being at hand, St. Patrick prayed, and dividing the river, made himself and followers a free passage, then “he blessed the river, and being so blessed, it abounded in fishes above all others.” St. Mel being denounced unjustly to St. Patrick, and preferring to prove his innocence by a miracle rather than by an oath, he ploughed up the earth on a certain hill, and took by the ploughshare many and large fishes out of the dry land; thereupon St. Patrick absolved him, but lest St. Mel should continue to work miracles presumptuously, “he bade him that he should thenceforth plough on the land, and fish in the water.” St. Patrick had a goat, a thief stole it, and ate it, and when accused, denied it; but the goat bleating in the stomach of the thief, proclaimed the merit of St. Patrick; and, to increase the miracle, by the sentence of the saint, all the posterity of the man were marked with the beard of a goat. St. Patrick having labored to convert a tyrant, who laughed him to scorn, he immediately converted the tyrant, against his will, into a fox; which fox went off with a hard run, and could never be found. Another time being benighted in the open air, violent rain fell around St. Patrick and his companions, but did not wet them a drop. On the same night, the driver of his chariot could not for the darkness find the horses to re-yoke them, on which St. Patrick, drawing his right hand from his sleeve, and lifting up his fingers, they “shone even as sun-beams, and wonderfully illumining the whole country, turned darkness into light, and night into day--then by the aid of the radiant miracle, the chariot-driver found his steed.” After the death of St. Patrick, there was no night for twelve days.

These are some of the miracles attributed to St. Patrick by Jocelin, whose life of him published in “Dublin, Printed for the Hibernia Press Company, By James Blyth,” is sold in London by Messrs. Keating and Brown, Catholic Printers and Publishers, No. 38, Duke-street, Grosvenor-square, in one volume 12mo. containing 264 pages, price 2_s._ 6_d._ in boards.

* * * * *

To what extent Catholics believe such miracles, as have been just related is unknown to a Protestant; but the publication of Jocelin’s works by catholic booksellers in a cheap form, seems to signify that it it held in repute by Catholics in a humble rank of life. To what extent the catholic clergy have instructed this class of their flocks, or rather to what extent they design to instruct them, is also unknown to a Protestant; but should the higher classes of catholics enjoy the civil rights, which the most wise and enlightened of their Protestant fellow-subjects deplore they do not possess, and most anxiously desire they should possess, it is not too much to hope that it will become the anxious wish, as it is the positive duty of the catholic clergy to inform the ignorant of their community. An union between the church of England, or any other protestant church, and the church of Rome, never can take place; but protestant churchmen, and Protestants of all denominations, can and will unite with Catholics, if Catholics can and will unite with them, to enlighten the Egyptian darkness, which ensures the mind worse than Egyptian bondage. The education of helpless infancy, and the fixation of just principles in youth, form the best security against criminal manhood. In this, surely, both Protestants and Catholics will concur, and their earnest cooperation to obtain this security will be a firm pledge that each desires the welfare of each. The marked separation of churches and doctrines cannot much longer separate man from man. In the bigotted and selfish interests that dam the social affections, there are incurable and daily widening breaches: the issues alternate and vary, but the first high tide of mutual kindness will burst the restrictions, and sweep them away for ever.

~St. Patrick’s Day.~

This being the anniversary of the day whereon St. Patrick died, it is commemorated as a high festival in the catholic church; and it is celebrated to his honour in that country, with every demonstration of affection for his memory as the apostle and patron saint of Ireland, that a warm-hearted, enthusiastic, joyous people, can possibly express. An eye-witness represents to the editor of the Every-Day Book that St. Patrick’s day in Dublin is a scene of festivity and mirth unequalled by any thing observable in this country. From the highest to the lowest, all hearts seem inspired by the saint’s beneficence. At day-break flags fly on the steeples, and the bells ring out incessant peals till midnight. The rich bestow their benevolence on the poor, and the poor bestow their blessings on the rich, and on each other, and on the blessed St. Patrick. The “green immortal” shamrock is in every hat. Sports of manly exercise exhibit the capabilities of the celebrated “shillelah,” and before night many a head gives token of the application of its wonderful powers, by a muscular hand. Priestly care soothes querulousness; laughter drowns casualty; innumerable bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked, jaunty lasses dance with their mirth-loving lads; old women run about with children in the hoods of their cloaks, to publicly share care-drowning cups of sweet consolation with each other; and by the voice of wit, humour, and frolic, this miraculous day is prolonged till after the morning dawn.

A popular song on this festal occasion contains these verses:

Saint Patrick’s, the holy and tutelar man; His beard down his bosom like Aaron’s ran: Some from Scotland, from Wales, will declare that he came, But I care not from whence now he’s risen to fame:-- The pride of the world and his enemies scorning, I will drink to St. Patrick, to-day, in the morning!

He’s a desperate big, little Erin go brah; He will pardon our follies and promise us joy. By the mass, by the Pope, by St. Patrick, so long As I live, I will give him a beautiful song! No saint is so good, Ireland’s country adorning; Then hail to St. Patrick, to-day, in the morning!

* * * * *

In London St. Patrick’s day is observed at court as a high festival, and the nobility crowd to pay their compliments in honour of Ireland’s tutelar saint. For many years it has been selected as an occasion for soliciting and obtaining aid to a great national object--the promotion of education. It is the anniversary of the “Benevolent Society of St. Patrick,” for clothing and educating children of Irish parents who need the assistance, by voluntary contribution. The festival is attended by Irishmen of different political parties and religious persuasions, and many of the highest rank. On this anniversary, in 1825, the marquess of Londonderry was in the chair, with the duke of Leinster on his right, and the marquess of Lansdown at his left hand: several of the king’s ministers and nobility were present. The report stated, that 400 children were educated in the school, the funds admitted of only 240 being clothed, the rest were supplied with shirts, shoes, and stockings; and the committee earnestly invited inspection of the schools from nine till two every day, except on the sabbath and Monday. A donation to the charity, from his majesty of 100 guineas, was followed by others, and by hopes that absent Irishmen and Englishmen who could, would cheerfully contribute towards an institution which on its merits required general support. Speeches from the chairman and noble guests, the chancellor of the exchequer, Mr. O’Connell, Mr. Huskisson, and other distinguished characters, breathed sentiments of universal good will, and must have inspired every individual to kindness, and desire of extending, and cementing, the conciliation so happily commenced between the people of both countries.

It is related that during the dinner, the party at the head table were much amused by a bottle of genuine (illegal) poteen, neat as imported from the emerald isle, being handed to the chancellor of the exchequer, who, forgetting the good of the revenue in the memory of St. Patrick, put a portion of the naughty liqueur in his glass, and drank it with becoming devotion.

In the forenoon of the same day, the festival was celebrated at the Roman catholic chapel in Sutton-street, Soho, with an unusual degree of splendour. The archbishop of Armagh in his mitre and pontifical robes, officiated as high-priest, assisted by the two English catholic bishops, Poynter and Bramston, and one of the Irish bishops, and several of the minor clergy. A selection of music, chiefly from Haydn’s masses, was powerfully performed by a very numerous choir, accompanied by a full band; and after a sermon by Dr. Poynter, a collection was made, to the amount of £65., to assist the chapel and the schools attached to it.

Order of St. Patrick.

In February, 1783, letters patent created a brotherhood denominated “Knights of the illustrious order of St. Patrick,” to consist of the sovereign for the time being, as sovereign of the order; and fifteen knights companions, the “lieutenant-general and general governor of Ireland, or the lord deputy or deputies, or lord’s justices, or other chief governor or governors” for the time being, officiating as deputy grand masters. The statutes of the order of St. Patrick direct the badge to be of gold, surmounted with a wreath of shamrock or trefoil, surrounding a circle of gold, bearing the motto of the order in gold letters, Quis separabit? with the date MDCCLXXXIII, wherein the order was founded, and encircling the cross of St. Patrick gules, surmounted with a trefoil vert, each leaf charged with an imperial crown or, upon a field argent; the badge, encircled with rays in form of a star of silver of eight points, four greater and four lesser, worn on the left side of the outer garment.

The Shamrock.

The shamrock is the trefoil. The Druids used it to cure diseases. The Irish use it as a national cognizance. It is said that when St. Patrick landed near Wicklow to convert the Irish in 433, the pagan inhabitants were ready to stone him; he requested to be heard, and endeavoured to explain God to them as the Trinity in Unity, but they could not understand him, till plucking a trefoil from the ground, he said, “Is it not as possible for the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, as for these leaves, to grow upon a single stalk,” then the Irish were immediately convinced.[31]

St. Patrick.

The Welch claim St. Patrick. Mr. Owen in his “Cambrian Biography” affirms, he was born at Aberllychwr in Pembrokeshire, South Wales, where there is a church dedicated to him. They call him Padrig, the son of Mawrn or Maenwyn, of the laird of Gwyr. Mr. Owen cites from the genealogy of the British saints, that, “It was the glory of the emperor Theodosius, in conjunction with Cystonnin Llydaw, surnamed the blessed, to have first founded the college of Illtyd, which was regulated by Balerus, a man from Rome; and Padrig, son of Mawrn, was the principal of it, before he was carried away a captive by the Irishman.” In corroboration, Mr. Owen says, it is recorded in the history of Wales, “that the Irish were enabled to settle themselves along nearly the whole extent of its coast, in the beginning of the fifth century, and continued there until nearly the middle of the same era; when they were expelled from the north by the natives, assisted by the sons of Cunedda, and from the south with the aid of Urien.” Thus Wales contends for the honour of the birth-place of Patrick with Scotland, while Ireland has the honour of the saint himself.

A London Bull.

The “Athenæum” affirms the following to be a literal transcript of a letter sent to a gentleman, who had recommended a patient to that excellent institution called the London Electrical Dispensary:--

“To Mr. G----

“No. 5081.

“Sir,

“Having by your recommendation been received a patient at the London Electrical Dispensary, and being discharged this day dead, I beg leave to return my humble and hearty thanks for the same.

“March 7, 1810.”

Except the No., date, and the word dead, which are written, all the rest of the letter is printed.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Sweet Violet. Viola odorata. Dedicated to St. Gertrude. Shamrock. Trifolium repens. Dedicated to St. Patrick.

[31] Brand’s Pop. Antiquities.

~March 18.~

St. Alexander, Bp. of Jerusalem, A. D. 251. St. Cyril, Abp. of Jerusalem, A. D. 386. St. Edward, King, A. D. 979. St. Anselm, Bp. of Lucca, A. D. 1086. St. Fridian, Erigdian, or Frigdian, Bp. of Lucca, A. D. 578.

St. Edward.

This is the English king who was stabbed in the back with a dagger, by order of his stepmother, Elfrida, while drinking on horseback at the gate of Corfe castle, in the isle of Purbeck. He spurred his horse, which plunged him into a deep marsh, and there he died of his wounds, in 979. Butler says his body was discovered by a pillar of light, and buried in Wareham church, and worked miracles. His name is in the church of England calendar.

It is an historical fact, that the wretched contriver of king Edward’s murder passed the remainder of her days in dismal horror; and her nights brought no repose from the afflictions of her conscience. She obtained a kind of armour formed of crucifixes, wherein she encased herself, performed penances, built monasteries, and died universally execrated by the indignant people. The treachery of the crime occasioned a general distrust, no one would drink without security from him, who sat beside him, that he was safe while the bowl was at his lips; and hence is said to have originated the customary expression at table of “I pledge you,” when one person invites another to drink first.

CHRONOLOGY.

1745. Sir Robert Walpole, earl of Orford, died, aged 71.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Great Leopard Bane. Doronicum Pardalionetes. Dedicated to St. Cyril.

~March 19.~

St. Joseph. St. Alemund, 819.

St. Joseph.

The church of Rome has canonized Joseph the spouse of the Virgin Mary, and honours him with offices and worship of various forms.

CHRONOLOGY.

720, B. C. the first eclipse of the moon on record happened on this day.

1355. Pressing for seamen to man the navy commenced.

1668. Sir John Denham, poet, died in London; he was born in Dublin, 1615.

1719. A surprising meteor was seen about eight o’clock in the evening, from all parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland. To an observer in St. Paul’s churchyard, it appeared a ball of fire as large as the moon, of a pale bluish light, and with little motion, till in a moment it assumed the shape of a common meteor with a stream of light, double the diameter of its first appearance, emitting a splendour by which the smallest print might have been read. Its duration was not above half a minute, and its greatest light about the tenth part of a minute. At Exeter its light exceeded that of the sun at noonday, and there it seemed to break like a skyrocket, into sparks of red fire, which reflected that colour on the houses, and shortly after a report, loud as cannon, shook the windows, succeeded at the interval of a minute by about thirty others; “they sounded just as the tower guns did in Mincing-lane, but shook the houses and windows much more.” Mr. Whiston calculated the greatest height of this extraordinary meteor to have been forty-three or fifty-one statute miles: it gradually descended lower till it came to Devonshire, where it was about thirty-nine miles high, and broke over the sea, near the coast of Brittany; its altitude then being about thirty miles.[32]

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Yellow Star of Bethlehem. Ormithogalum luteum. Dedicated to St. Joseph.

[32] Whiston’s Account of a Meteor, 8vo. 1719.

~March 20.~

St. Cuthbert, Bp. of Lindisfarne, A. D. 687. St. Wulfran, Abp. of Sens, A. D. 720.

St. Cuthbert.

Of this saint there will be mention hereafter.

CHRONOLOGY.

1727. Sir Isaac Newton died; he was born December 25th, 1642.

1751. Frederick, prince of Wales, father of king George III. died aged 44.

1793. Died William Murray, earl of Mansfield. He was born on the 2d of March, 1705, and during thirty years, and until his death, presided as lord chief justice of the court of King’s Bench. He was eminent as a lawyer, and dignified as a judge. It is said that he altered the common law of England, by ingrafting upon it the civil law in his decisions. As an elegant scholar, of highly cultivated and vigorous intellect, he shone in the constellation of great men, which arose in the reign of queen Anne. In eloquence and beauty of diction, he outrivalled his predecessors, and has not been excelled by any successor in the high office he filled.

1811. Napoleon, son of the late emperor of France, by the empress Maria Louisa, was born, and received the title of king of Rome.

On the 20th of March, the sun enters the constellation ♈ Aries, or the Ram, which is the first zodiacal sign; and this day is the first day of Spring.

By an accident, the remarks relating to SPRING were inserted under MARCH 6, instead of this day: and as the error is thus particularly noticed, in order as far as possible to rectify it, the reader will please to consider all that has been said on the sixth of March as applicable to the twentieth alone. The editor, while acknowledging, and craving pardon for a vexatious and unpurposed misrepresentation, will endeavour to set a watch upon himself in future, to guard against a similar accident.

Aries, or the ram, as a zodiacal sign, is said to have been derived by the Greeks from the golden fleece brought from Colchis by Jason, about 1263 years before Christ; but as it is a hieroglyphic on Egyptian monuments, it is of higher antiquity, and symbolizes that season when sheep yean their lambs. The people of Thebes slew a ram in honour of Jupiter Ammon, who personifies the sun in Aries, and is represented by ancient sculpture and coins with the horns of a ram on his head. The Hebrews at this season sacrifice a lamb, to commemorate their deliverance from Egypt. Aries, or the ram, was the ensign of Gad, one of their leaders.

VERNAL EQUINOX.

The remarks on the Vernal Equinox, immediately following, are communicated by a respected scientific friend to the editor.

This is a day of great consequence in the year, and one that must excite many associations in the mind of the astronomer, and of every one who entertains a due reverence for our sacred records. The sun on this day passes the imaginary line in the heavens, called the equator, or equinoctial; it being the middle circle equally distant in every part from the north or the south poles. The line is passed to an observer on Greenwich hill, at ten minutes past nine in the morning; and, consequently, when it is on the meridian, or its highest point at noon, it will appear to every observer in the united kingdom at some distance from the equator. It is commonly said, that at this time the day is equal to the night all the world over; but this is a vulgar error. The day is not equal to the night in this country; that is, the sun appears for more than twelve hours above the horizon, and, consequently, a less time than twelve hours elapses before it shines again to us in the morning. Besides, the fallacy of this common saying is perceived at once by any one who considers, that the inhabitant of the north pole, if there is any inhabitant there, has already seen for some days the sun above his horizon, and it will not set to him for above six months. The day then is not equal to the night, either in the united kingdom, or at the north pole. We will leave to the astronomer to determine at what part of the earth this circumstance really takes place; in the investigation of the problem he may encounter some difficulties, of which at present he is probably not aware. The sun crosses the equinoctial line at ten minutes past nine; it was therefore at its rising south of that line, and at its setting it will be north of that line. The line it marks out in the heavens is an arc of a spiral; but had it risen and set in the equinoctial line, the arc would have been circular.

To leave, however, the circumstances peculiarly relative to astronomy, let us consider this day in another point of view. The sun and the moon are the regulators of days, and months, and years, and times, and seasons. Every nation in the world pays some regard to their motions; and in this country they are the subjects of legislative enactments--enactments which have been laughed at by our makers of almanacs; disregarded by the church, though sanctioned in its rubrics; and set at naught by courts of justice, whose openings at certain periods depend on prescribed appearances in the heavens. Of this, hereafter, sufficient proof will be given; and, in thus noticing the errors of past times, there is a chance, that a statute of importance, certainly, as it has been thought worthy of legislation, should not be hereafter violated without the interposition of the legislature.

Our ancestors began their year about this time, and not without reason; for they had for it the sanction of a divine command. To the Israelites it was commanded, that this should be the beginning of their sacred year, on which the great festivals prescribed by their law should depend. Their civil year begins in September, and they continue to observe the command, having an almanac founded on the complicated motions of the sun and moon, whose calculations are of a very subtle nature, and whose accuracy far exceeds that of the polished nations of Europe. That the year should begin either at the vernal or the spring equinox, or at the autumnal equinox, good reasons may be given; but for our taking the first of January for the commencement of the year, nothing more can be said, than the old theme,

Sic volo, sic jubeo, stet pro ratione voluntas.

--Such is my will, the sun and moon may move as they please.

Except for the refraction of the atmosphere, the inhabitants of the equator would have at all times twelve hours’ day and twelve hours’ night; the sun being north or south of this circle not causing any difference, for the equator and ecliptic being both great circles of the sphere, the two points of intersection must be in the same diameter.

By the almanac it will be found, that there are nearly eight days more in the interval between the vernal and the autumnal equinox, than between the latter and the return of the vernal equinox. As, therefore, from the vernal to the autumnal equinox, the sun is on the northern side of the equator, our summer occurring during this period, gives us an advantage of nearly eight days, in this respect, over the southern hemisphere. This difference arises from the oval or elliptical form of the earth’s orbit. The earth, therefore, being at different distances from the sun during the year, it is found to move with different velocities; moving slowest when furthest from the sun, and quickest when nearest to that luminary. It happens to be at its greatest distance just after our Midsummer, and moving consequently slower during our spring and summer months; our summer is about eight days longer than that of the southern hemisphere, our winter eight days shorter than theirs.

* * * * *

The annexed diagram will exhibit the equinoctial condition of the earth; the sun’s rays at their noon falling vertically to the inhabitants of the equator.

~Care Sunday.~

Care Sunday; care away, Palm Sunday, and Easter day.

Care Sunday is the fifth Sunday from Shrove Tuesday, consequently it is the next Sunday before Palm Sunday, and the second Sunday before Easter. Why it is denominated Care Sunday is very uncertain. It is also called Carle Sunday, and in some parts Carling Sunday. A native of Newcastle-upon-Tyne[33] observes, that in that town, and many other places in the north of England, peas after having been steeped a night in water, are fried with batter, given away, eaten at a kind of entertainment on Carle Sunday, and are called Carlings, “probably as we call the presents at fairs, fairings.” To this he attaches a query, whether Carl_en_ may not be formed from the old plural termination in en, as hos_en_, &c. The only attempt at a derivation of the word Care, is, that “the Friday on which Christ was crucified, is called in German both Gute Freytag and Carr Freytag;” and that the word karr signified a satisfaction for a fine, or penalty.[34] The inference is corroborated, by the church of Rome anciently using rites on this day peculiar to Good Friday, whence it was also called Passion Sunday. It is noted in an old calendar, that on this day “a dole is made of soft beans,” which was also “a rite in the funeral ceremonies of heathen Rome.” This “dole” of soft beans on Care Sunday, accounts for the present custom of eating fried peas on the same day. No doubt the beans were a very seasonable alms to help out the poor man’s lent stock of provision. “In Northumberland the day is called Carling Sunday. The yeomanry in general steep peas, and afterwards parch them, and eat them on the afternoon of that day, calling them carlings. This is said by an old author, to have taken its rise from the disciples plucking the ears of corn, and rubbing them in their hands.”[35] Hence it is clear, that the custom of eating peas or beans upon this day, is only a continuation of the unrecollected “dole” of the Romish church. It is possible, however, that there may have been no connection between the heathen funeral rite of giving beans, and the church donation, if the latter was given in mere charity; for there was little else to bestow at such a time of the year, when dried pulse, variously cooked, must have been almost the only winter meal with the labourer, and a frequent one with his employer.

The couplet at the head of this article Mr. Nichols says he heard in Nottinghamshire. There is another,

Tid, Mid, Misera, Carling, Palm, Paste Egg day.

The first line is supposed to have been formed from the beginning of Psalms, &c. viz. _Te d_eum--_Mi d_eus--_Misere_re mei.[36]

But how is it that Care Sunday is also called Carl Sunday and Carling Sunday; and that the peas, or beans, of the day are called carlings? Carle, which now means a churl, or rude boorish fellow, was anciently the term for a working countryman or labourer; and it is only altered in the spelling, without the slightest deviation in sense, from the old Saxon word ceorl, the name for a husbandman. The older denomination of the day, then, may not have been Care but Carl Sunday, from the benefactions to the carles or carlen. These are still the northern names for the day; and the dialect in that part of the kingdom is nearer to Saxon etymology. But whether the day were called Carle or Care Sunday it is now little known, and little more can be said about it, without the reader feeling inclined to say or sing,

“Begone dull Care.”

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Dog’s Violet. Viola Canina. Dedicated to St. Wulfran.

[33] Mr. Brand.

[34] Brand’s Pop. Antiq. from Marshal on the Saxon Gospels.

[35] Gentleman’s Magazine, 1786.

[36] Brand’s Pop. Antiquities.

~March 21.~

St. Benedict, or Bennet, Abbot, A. D. 543. St. Serapion, called the Sindonite, A. D. 388. St. Serapion, Abbot. St. Serapion, Bishop, 4th Age. St. Enna, or Endeus, Abbot, 6th Cent.

ST. BENEDICT, or BENNET,

Founder of the order of St. Benedict.

The accounts of distinguished persons of the Romish church written by its ecclesiastics are exceedingly curious. The rev. Alban Butler states of St. Benedict, that he was born in Umbria about 480, sent to school at Rome, and afterwards being determined to leave the world, “therefore left the city privately, and made the best of his way to the deserts.” Here he remained secreted at a place called Sublacum, till a “certain pious priest,” whilst preparing a dinner on Easter-day, heard a voice say to him, “you are preparing for yourself a banquet whilst my servant Benedict at Sublacum is distressed with hunger.” Then the priest found out Benedict, and invited him to eat, “saying it was Easter-day, on which it was not reasonable to fast.” Bennet answered, he did not know it; and Alban Butler says, “nor is it to be wondered at that he should not understand the Lunar cycle, which at that time was known by very few.” Soon after, some shepherds found him near his cave, and “took him for a wild beast; for he was clad with the skins of beasts, and they imagined no human creature could live among those rocks.” From that time he began to be known and visited, and the devil came to him “in the shape of a little blackbird.” After this, Benedict rolled himself in briars and nettles, till he was covered with blood; and his fame spreading still more abroad, several forsook the world to live with him; and he became an abbot, and built twelve monasteries. In one of these, a monk becoming slothful, St. Benedict said, “I will go and correct him myself;” and Butler, says, “such indeed was the danger and enormity of this fault, as to require the most speedy and effectual remedy;” wherefore St. Benedict coming to the lazy monk “at the end of the divine office, saw a little black boy leading him by the sleeve out of the church,” and applied the “speedy and effectual remedy” to the monk’s shoulders, in the shape of a cudgel; and so “the sinner was freed from the temptation” of the little black boy, who was the devil. Then by Benedict’s prayers a fountain sprung up; and a monk cleaving wood with a hedging bill, and the iron falling into the water, by holding the wooden handle in the water, the iron miraculously swam up to it of its own accord. Such growing fame brought to Benedict “many who came clad in purple with gold and precious stones.” “He seemed,” says Alban Butler, “indued with an extraordinary power, commanding all nature, and foreseeing future events; he baffled the various artifices of the devil, with the sign of the cross; rendered the heaviest stone light; by a short prayer raised to life a novice who had been crushed by the fall of a wall;” and after other wonders died, about the year 543, aged 63.[37]

Pope St. Gregory, of whom some account is given on his festival, (see MARCH 12,) wrote the life and miracles of St. Benedict.[38] This work of many chapters relates how Benedict dispossessed a certain clerk of the devil; how he miraculously discovered the hiding of a flagon of wine; how in a scarcity two hundred bushels of meal were miraculously brought to his monastery; how a boy marvellously cast out of his grave, was miraculously kept in it by St. Benedict putting the host on his body; how a glass bottle cast down on the stones was not broken; how an empty tun was filled with oil by his prayers; how he gave another monk a slap in the face and drove the devil out of him; how he saw the soul of his sister in form of a dove; how he foretold his own death; how he performed miracles too many to be here related; all which, however, may be seen in the said life of St. Benedict, by the said pope St. Gregory, who it will be remembered is called by way of distinction St. Gregory the Great.

St. Benedict founded the order of monks under his name. A reader who desires to be acquainted with its rules may consult Mr. Fosbroke’s “British Monachism,” who remarks, that monkery is an institution founded upon the first principles of religious virtue, wrongly understood and wrongly directed. He then proceeds to remark, that, “If man be endowed with various qualities, in order to be severely punished for using them, God is made the tempter of vice, and his works foolish. If voluntary confinement, vegetable eating, perpetual praying, wearing coarse clothing, and mere automatical action through respiration, be the standard of excellence, then the best man is only a barrel organ set to psalm-tunes.”

CHRONOLOGY.

1556. Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, was burnt for heresy at Oxford, between Baliol college and St. Mary’s church.

A correspondent, LECTOR, communicates that there is against the south wall of Camberwell church, an inscription commemorative of “Bartholomew Scott, esq. justice of peace in the county of Surrey,” in which he is said to have married “Margaret, the widow of the right reverend prelate and martyr, Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterburie.” Strype, (Life, p. 418. b. iii. ch. xxviii.) says, that the name of Cranmer’s last wife was Ann; and that she survived him, was living towards the latter end of archbishop Parker’s time, and “for her subsistence enjoyed an abbey in Nottinghamshire.” He does not seem very sanguine on this head, but gives the passage on authority of “a very angry book, writ against the execution of justice in England by cardinall Allen.” Fox, in his “Actes and Monumentes,” says, that Cranmer’s wife was “a Dutchewoman, kynne to the wyfe of Osiander;” and that Cranmer having “sold hys plate, and payed all his debts, so that no man could ask him a grote,” left his wife and children unprovided. The marriage of “Bartholomew Scott, esq.” with Cranmer’s widow, was certainly an act of noble disinterestedness. He is celebrated for his never-dying virtues, and described as a “valiant, wise, and religious gentleman,” of “right worshipful and ancient familie.”

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Bulbous Fumitory. Fumaria bulbosa. Dedicated to St. Bennet.

[37] Alban Butler, the English biographer of St. Benedict, and the rest of the saints, died in May, 1773, aged 63.

[38] Pope St. Gregory’s labour is translated under the title of “The Life and Miracles of our Holie Father St. Benedict--Permissu Superiorum. Printed an. 1628.” 18mo.

~March 22.~

St. Basil of Ancyra, A. D. 362. St. Paul, Bp. St. Lea, A. D. 384. St. Deogratias, Bp. of Carthage, A. D. 457. St. Catharine of Sweden, Abbess, A. D. 1381.

CHRONOLOGY.

1687. John Baptist Lulli, the celebrated musician, died, aged 54. He was born at Florence, in 1634, and from being page to madame Montpensier, niece to Louis XIV. became superintendent of music to that monarch.

The Plague in London.

In March, 1665, London abounded in wealth and grandeur, in comparison with its state in former ages. Goldsmiths’ shops shone with plate all along the south-side of the street called Cheapside, then named Goldsmiths’-row. The Strand then united London and Westminster by a range of palaces, inhabited by the nobility, with gardens in the rear reaching to the Thames, from whence through water-gates they descended by stairs to take water. Each of these mansions was named after its owner or occupier; as Essex, Arundel, Norfolk, Salisbury, Worcester, Exeter, Hungerford, Howard, York, and Northumberland. They were built at equal distances from each other, in the grandest style of antique architecture. Such was London in March 1665, when it was visited by the plague, which raged with such unabating fatality, that three, four, and five thousand of the inhabitants died weekly. Deaths increased so fast that the usual mode of interment could no longer be observed; large pits were dug at Hollywell-mount, and in other suburbs of the city, to which the dead were carried in carts, collected by the ring of a bell, and the doleful cry of “Bring out your dead.” The bodies were brought out of the houses, and placed in the carts with no other covering than rugs or sheets tied round them, and were thrown into the pits in promiscuous heaps. Trade was at a stand, the shops were shut up, every day had the appearance of a sabbath; grass grew on the Royal Exchange, and most of the public streets; and Whitechapel might be mistaken for green fields.

THE SEASON.

Dr. Forster observes, in his “Perennial Calendar,” that about this time spiders begin to appear in the gardens, for in winter, they are only seen in houses; and that the species which inhabits our dwellings, is quite distinct from the garden spider. These are a very interesting tribe of insects, in spite of their ugly appearance, and the general dislike which most persons, especially females, attach to them, in common with earwigs and other unsightly insects. Naturalists have found out this curious propensity in spiders, that they seem remarkably fond of music, and have been known to descend from the ceiling during concerts, and to retire when the strain was finished; of which the following old verses, from the “Anthologia Borealis et Australis,” remind us:--

To a Spider which inhabited a Cell.

In this wild, groping, dark, and drearie cove, Of wife, of children, and of health bereft, I hailed thee, friendly spider, who hadst wove Thy mazy net on yonder mouldering raft: Would that the cleanlie housemaid’s foot had left Thee tarrying here, nor took thy life away; For thou, from out this seare old ceiling’s cleft, Came down each morn to hede my plaintive lay; Joying like me to heare sweete musick play, Wherewith I’d fein beguile the dull dark lingering day.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Pilewort. Ficaria verna. Dedicated to St. Catharine of Sweden.

~March 23.~

St. Alphonsus Turibius, Abp. of Lima, A. D. 1606. Sts. Victorian, &c. A. D. 484. St. Edelwald, A. D. 699.

St. Edelwald.

This was an English benedictine monk of Rippon, who became a hermit, and was buried by St. Cuthbert in St. Peter’s church, at Lindisfarne.

CHRONOLOGY.

1801. Paul, emperor of Russia, was strangled at St. Petersburg.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Peerless Daffodil. Narcissus incomparabilis. Dedicated to St. Alphonsus.

~March 24.~

Cambridge Term ends.

St. Irenæus, Bp. of Sirmium, A. D. 304. St. Simon, an Infant Martyr. St. William of Norwich.

St. Simon, an Infant.

The Jews are said to have murdered this infant in 1472. After having deliberated at their synagogue in the holy week, on the preparations for their passover, they came to the resolution of crucifying a child on Good Friday, and having stolen Simon, they made him the victim, and sung around his body while elevated. Whenever an act of cruelty was to be perpetrated on the Jews, fables like these were forged, and the brutal passions of the mob let loose upon the life and wealth of fugitive Israelites.

St. William of Norwich, A. D. 1137,

Was another of these pretended martyrs to Jewish hatred. Weever states, that “the Jews in the principal cities of the kingdom, did use sometimes to steal away, and crucify some neighbour’s male child,” as if it were a common practice. Since protestantism, no such barbarities have been imputed to the Jews.

CHRONOLOGY.

1580. The first bombs were thrown upon the town of Wachtendonck in Guelderland. The invention is commonly attributed to Galen, bishop of Munster.

1726. Daniel Whitby, the learned commentator on the New Testament, died. He was born at Rushden, Northamptonshire, in 1638, and was eminent for ability and honesty throughout his life.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Golden Saxifrage. Chrysosplenum oppositifolium. Dedicated to St. Irenæus.

~March 25.~

Lady Day. Holiday at the Public Offices, except the Excise, Stamp, and Custom.

The Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. St. Cammin, Abbot, A. D. 653.

~Lady Day.~

The Roman Catholic festival of the Annunciation is commonly called in England LADY DAY, an abridgement of the old term Our Lady’s Day, or the Day of our blessed Lady.

This is a “gaudy day” in the Romish church. Deeming the mother of Christ an intercessor and mediatrix, it offers innumerable honours and devotions to her. Hail Mary! resounds in the masses to her praise; and the worshippers of her shrines and resemblances, are excited to a fervour of devotion which would astonish, if it were not known that sculpture, painting, poetry, vocal and instrumental music, have been added to revive the recollection of monkish fables, and early impressions in her behalf.

In the ~Golden Legend~, a book formerly read instead of the New Testament, but now, in degree, supplanted by Butler’s more voluminous and almost equally miraculous “Lives of the Saints,” there is a story in honour of the virgin, concerning a noble and ignorant knight, who, to amend his life, entered an abbey, but was so incapable of learning, that he could say nothing but Ave Maria, which words he continually repeated wherever he was. When this knight died he was buried in the church-yard of the abbey, and there afterwards grew out of his grave a fair fleur de lis, and in every flower grew, in letters of gold, the words Ave Maria; and at the miracle, the brethren marvelled, and opened the sepulchre, and found the root of the fleur de lis came out of the mouth of the said knight; and then they understood that he was to be honoured for his great devotion to the virgin, by using the words Ave Maria.

There is another story in the “Golden Legend” of “another knyght.” “He had a fayre place bisyde the hye waye where moche people passed, whome he robbed,” and so he did all his life; yet he had “a good custom” of saluting the virgin every day, by saying Ave Maria, and so he went on committing highway robberies, and saluting the virgin day by day, till his people having put “a holy man” in bodily fear and robbed him, the said “holy man” desired to be brought before their master, the knight, and seeing him, required him to summon all his attendants, which the knight did; but the “holy man” objected that one of them was not present. Then the knight perceived that his chamberlain was not there, and called for him; and when the holy man saw the chamberlain, he conjured him to declare who he was, and the chamberlain being so enforced answered, “I am no man, but am a devil in the form of a man;” and he acknowledged that he had abided with the knight fourteen years, and watched him night and day, hoping the knight might leave off saying the salutation Ave Maria, that so he might strangle him, “and brynge him to hell,” because of his evil life; but, because there passed no day without the knight saying Ave Maria, the devil could not have him for all his long waiting. Then the knight fell down at the feet of the holy man, and demanded pardon of his sins, and the “holy man” commanded the devil to depart; wherefore says the “Golden Legend,” “let us pray to the gloryous virgyn Mary, that she kepe us from the devyll.”

The festival of the annunciation is kept at Rome by sumptuous shows. The author of “Rome in the nineteenth Century” relates the pope’s proceedings on the occasion: “We drove through streets lined with expecting crowds, and windows hung with crimson and yellow silk draperies, and occupied by females in their most gorgeous attire, till we made a stop near the church before which the pope’s horse-guards, in their splendid full-dress uniforms, were stationed to keep the ground; all of whom, both officers and men, wore in their caps a sprig of myrtle, as a sign of rejoicing. After waiting a short time, the procession appeared, headed by another detachment of the guards, mounted on prancing black chargers, who rode forward to clear the way, accompanied by such a flourish of trumpets and kettle-drums, that it looked at first like any thing but a peaceable or religious proceeding. This martial array was followed by a bareheaded priest, on a white mule, bearing the host in a gold cup, at the sight of which every body fell upon their knees. The pope used formerly to ride upon the white mule himself, and all the cardinals used to follow him in their magnificent robes of state, mounted either on mules or horses; and as the Eminentissimi are, for the most part, not very eminent horsemen, they were generally fastened on, lest they should tumble off. This cavalcade must have been a very entertaining sight. Pius VI., who was a very handsome man, kept up this custom, but the (then) present pope (Pius VII.) is far too infirm for such an enterprise; so he followed the man on the white mule, in a state coach; at the very sight of which, we seemed to have made a jump back of two hundred years at least. It was a huge machine, composed almost entirely of plate-glass, fixed in a ponderous carved and gilt frame, through which was distinctly visible the person of the venerable old pope, dressed in robes of white and silver, and incessantly giving his benediction to the people, by a twirl of three fingers; which are typical of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; the last being represented by the little finger. On the gilded back of this vehicle, the only part that was not made of glass, was a picture of the pope in his chair of state, and the virgin Mary at his feet. This extraordinary machine was drawn by six black horses, with superb harness of crimson velvet and gold; the coachmen, or rather postillions, were dressed in coats of silver stuff, with crimson velvet breeches, and full bottomed wigs well powdered, without hats. Three coaches, scarcely less antiquely superb, followed with the assistant cardinals, and the rest of the train. In the inside of the church, the usual tiresome ceremonies went on that take place when the pope is present. He is seated on a throne, or chair of state; the cardinals, in succession, approach and kiss his hand, retire one step, and make three bows or nods, one to him in front, and one on the right hand, and another on the left; which are intended for him (as the personification of the Father,) and for the Son, and for the Holy Ghost, on either side of him; and all the cardinals having gone through these motions, and the inferior priests having kissed his toe--that is, the cross, embroidered on his shoe--high mass begins. The pope kneels during the elevation of the host, prays in silence before the high altar, gets up and sits down, reads something out of a great book which they bring to him, with a lighted taper held beside it; and, having gone through many more such ceremonies, finally ends as he began, with giving his benediction with three fingers, all the way he goes out. During all the time of this high mass, the pope’s military band, stationed on the platform in front of the church, played so many clamorous martial airs, that it effectually put to flight any ideas of religious solemnity.”

In England, Lady Day is only remembered as the first quarter-day in the year, and is therefore only kept by tenants who truly pay rent to their landlords. A few years ago a country gentleman wrote a letter to a lady of rank in town, and sent it through the general post with the following address:

“To

“The 25th of March,

“Foley-place, London.”

The postman duly delivered the letter at the house of Lady Day for whom it was intended.

CHRONOLOGY.

1688. Parochial charity schools, for the education of the children of poor persons, were instituted in London and its vicinity.

1748. A fire broke out at one o’clock in the morning in ’Change-alley, Cornhill, London, which raged for ten hours, consuming all the buildings in ’Change-alley and Birchin-lane; and in Cornhill, from ’Change-alley to St. Michael’s-alley, including several celebrated taverns and coffee-houses, and many valuable shops, including five booksellers. There were eighty houses destroyed by this conflagration.

1809. Anna Seward, the friend of Dr. Darwin, and recollected for her life of him, and for her poetry and correspondence, died in the bishop’s palace at Lichfield, aged 66. She was born at Eyan, in Derbyshire. Her poetry is easy, rather than vigorous.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Marigold. Calendula Officinalis. Annunciation of V. Mary.

~March 26.~

Oxford Term ends.

St. Ludger, Bp. of Munster, A. D. 809. St. Braulio, Bp. of Saragossa, A. D. 646.

THE CUCKOO.

Now in many situations may be heard the cuckoo. Its distant note intimating dislike to human approach, comes upon the ear as a soft welcome from a shy stranger:--

Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove, Thou messenger of spring! How heaven repairs thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome sing.

What time the daisy decks the green Thy certain voice we hear; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year?

Delightful visitant! with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sounds of music sweet From birds among the bowers.

The school-boy wandering thro’ the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts--the new voice of spring to hear And imitates thy lay.

Soon as the pea puts on its bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail.

Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year!

O! could I fly, I’d fly with thee; We’d make with social wing Our annual visit o’er the globe, Companions of the spring.

Logan.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Lurid Henbane. Hyoscyamus Scopolia. Dedicated to St. Braulio.

~March 27.~

St. John of Egypt, Hermit, A. D. 394. St. Rupert, or Robert, Bp. of Saltzbourg.

St. John of Egypt

Was a hermit, inured to obedience by an ancient holy anchoret, “who made him water a dry stick for a whole year, as if it were a live plant.” He walled himself up at the top of a rock, “from the fortieth or forty-second to the ninetieth year of his age,” and “drew the admiration of the whole world on him,” says Butler, by “the lustre of his miracles,” and the “fame of his predictions.”

CHRONOLOGY.

1801. The peace of Amiens between France and England was signed in France.

This is the first Sunday before Easter, and is sometimes called Passion Sunday. It is denominated Palm Sunday, because on this day the Roman catholic church ordains boughs or branches of palm trees to be carried in procession, in imitation of those strewed before Christ when he rode into Jerusalem. In this monkish procession the host was carried upon an ass, branches and flowers were strewed on the road, the richest cloths were laid down, and others were hung up. The palms were consecrated by the priest, and after they were used they were preserved to be burned for holy ashes, to lay on the heads of the people on Ash Wednesday in the following year, as before-mentioned (see p. 261,) on that day.

On Palm Sunday, the palm flowers and leaves to be consecrated by the officiating prelate or priest were laid upon the high altar, and those for the poor laity being placed upon the south step of the altar the priest arrayed in a red cope proceeded to consecrate them by a prayer, commencing “I conjure thee, thou creature of flowers and branches, in the name of God the Father,” &c. This was to displace the devil or his influences, if he or they lurked or were hidden in or about the “creature of flowers and branches.” Then followed a prayer wherein he said, with crosses, “We humbly beseech thee that thy truth may + sanctify this creature of flowers and branches, and slips of palms, or boughs of trees, which we offer,” &c. Then the “creature of flowers and branches” was fumed with smoke of frankincense from the censers, and there were other prayers with crossings, and they were sprinkled with holy water with this supplication: “Bless + and sanctify + these branches of palms, and other trees and flowers,” &c. Then the sacrists distributed the palms to the abbots, priors, and nobler persons, and the flowers and leaves to the others. When this was done the procession moved, and afterwards made a stand while two priests brought a Pascal in which the crucifix was laid; afterwards the banner and cross-bearers filed off to the right and to the left, and the boys and monks of the convent arranged themselves, and, after a short service, the priests with the tomb, headed by the banner and cross, passed between the monks, who knelt as they passed. When they came to the city-gates they divided again on two sides, and the shrine being put on a table, was covered with cloth. Above the entrance of the gates, in a place handsomely prepared with hangings, were boys with other singers whom the chanter had appointed, and these sang, “Gloria, Laus,” “Glory, praise,” &c. After having made a procession through the city, they returned to the convent-gate, where the shrine was laid on the table and covered with cloth, and a religious service was performed. The monks then returned to the church, and stood before the crucifix uncovered, while mass was performed; and after they had communicated, the deacon first and the rest afterwards, they offered their palms and flowers, at the altar.[39]

It was also an old Roman catholic custom on Palm Sunday, to draw about the town a wooden ass with a figure on it, representing Christ riding into Jerusalem, and the people strewing palms before it. Googe’s Naogeorgus says:--

A woodden Asse they have, and Image great that on him rides, But underneath the Asse’s feete a table broad there slides, Being borne on wheeles, which ready drest, and al things meete therfore, The Asse is brought abroad and set before the churche’s doore: The people all do come, _and bowes of trees and Palmes they bere, Which things against the tempest great the Parson conjures there_, And straytwayes downe before the Asse, upon his face he lies, Whome there an other Priest doth strike with rodde of largest sise: He rising up, two lubbours great upon their faces fall, In straunge attire, and lothsomely, with filthie tune, they ball: Who, when againe they risen are, with stretching out their hande, They poynt unto the wooden knight, and, singing as they stande, Declare that that is he that came into the worlde to save, And to redeeme such as in him their hope assured have: And even the same that long agone, while in the streate he roade, The people mette, and Olive-bowes so thicke before him stroade. This being soung, the people cast the braunches as they passe, Some part upon the Image, and some part upon the Asse: Before whose feete a wondrous heape of bowes and braunches ly: This done, into the Church he strayght is drawne full solemly: The shaven Priestes before them marche, the people follow fast, Still striving who shall gather first the bowes that downe are cast: For falsely _they beleeve that these have force and vertue great, Against the rage of winter stormes and thunders flashing heate_. In some place wealthie citizens, and men of sober chere, For no small summe doe hire this Asse with them about to bere, And manerly they use the same, not suffering any by To touch this Asse, nor to presume unto his presence ny. For they suppose that in this thing, they Christ do lightly serve, And well of him accepted are, and great rewardes deserve.

When the wooden ass had performed in the church procession, the boys hired him:

The Sexten pleasde with price, and looking well no harme be done: They take the Asse, and through the streets and crooked lanes they rone, Whereas they common verses sing, according to the guise, The people giving money, breade, and egges of largest sise. Of this their gaines they are compelde the maister halfe to give, Least he alone without his portion of the Asse should live.

On the Romish processioning on Palm Sunday, it is observed by an old writer that, “Among x thousand, scarce one knew what this meant. They have their laudable dumme ceremonies, with Lentin crosse and Uptide crosse, and these two must justle til lent break his necke. Then cakes must be caste out of the steple, that al the boyes in the parish must lie scambling together by the eares, tyl al the parish falleth a laughyng. But, lorde, what asses-play made they of it in great cathedral churches and abbies. One comes forth in his albe and his long stole (for so they call their girde that they put about theyr neckes,) thys must be leashe wise, as hunters weares their hornes.--This solempne Syre played Christe’s part, a God’s name. Then another companye of singers, chyldren and al, song, in prick-song, the Jewe’s part--and the Deacon read the middel text. The Prest at the Alter al this while, because it was tediouse to be unoccupyed, made Crosses of Palme to set upon your doors, and to beare in your purses, to chace away the Divel.”[40]

Dr. Fulke, opposing the Catholics, observes on their carrying of the host on Palm Sunday,--“It is pretty sport, that you make the priests carry this idol to supply the room of the ass on which Christ did ride. Thus you turn the holy mystery of Christ’s riding to Jerusalem to a May-game and pagent-play.” In the accounts of St. Andrew Hubbard’s parish, there are Palm Sunday charges for the following items: In 1520, eightpence for the hire of an angel. In 1535-7, another eightpence for a priest and a child that played as a messenger: in that year the angel was hired for fourpence. By the churchwardens of St. Mary-at-hill, in 1451, fourpence was paid to one Loreman for playing the prophet on Palm Sunday. Though Roman catholic ceremonies were generally disused under Henry VIII., yet he declared that the bearing of palms on Palm Sunday was to be continued and not cast away; and it appears, that they were borne in England until the second year of Edward VI. In “Stowe’s Chronicle,” by Howes, the practice is said to have been discontinued in 1548.[41]

It was likewise a Roman catholic custom to resort to “our lady of Nantswell,” at Little Conan, in Cornwall, with a cross of palm; and the people, after making the priest a present, were allowed to throw the cross into the well; if it swam, the thrower was to outlive the year; if it sunk, he was not.[42]

Recently, it is related, that on the Saturday before Palm Sunday, the boys of the grammar-school at Lanark, according to ancient usage, parade the streets with a palm, or, its substitute, a large tree of the willow kind, salix cafrea, in blossom, ornamented with daffodils, mezereon, and box-tree. This day there is called Palm Saturday, and the custom is supposed to be “a popish relic of very ancient standing.”[43] Mr. Douce, in a manuscript note, cited by Mr. Ellis, says “I have somewhere met with a proverbial saying, that he that hath not a palm in his hand on Palm Sunday, must have his hand cut off.”

According to Stowe, in the week before Easter, there were great shows in London for going to the woods, and fetching into the king’s house a twisted tree, or withe; and the like into the house of every man of note or consequence.

Palm Sunday remains in the English calendars. It is still customary with men and boys to go a palming in London early on Palm Sunday morning; that is, by gathering branches of the willow or sallow with their grey shining velvet-looking buds, from those trees in the vicinity of the metropolis: they come home with slips in their hats, and sticking in the breast button holes of their coats, and a sprig in the mouth, bearing the “palm” branches in their hands. This usage remains among the ignorant from poor neighbourhoods, but there is still to be found a basket woman or two at Covent-garden, and in the chief markets with this “palm,” as they call it, on the Saturday before Palm Sunday, which they sell to those who are willing to buy; but the demand of late years has been very little, and hence the quantity on sale is very small. Nine out of ten among the purchasers buy it in imitation of others, they care not why; and such purchasers, being Londoners, do not even know the tree which produces it, but imagine it to be a “real” palm tree, and “wonder” they never saw any “palm” trees, and where they grow.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Sweet scented Jonquil. Narcissus Odorus. Dedicated to St. John of Egypt.

[39] Fosbroke’s British Monach. Brand’s Pop. Antiq. &c.

[40] From a “Dialogue, concerning the chyefest ceremonyes by the Impes of Anti-Christ, 1554,” 12mo. Quoted by Brand.

[41] Brand.

[42] Carew.

[43] Sinclair’s Statist. Acc.

~March 28.~

Priscus, Malchus, and Alexander, Martyrs, A. D. 260. _St. Sixtus_ III. Pope, A. D. 440. St. Gontran, King and Confessor, A. D. 593.

CHRONOLOGY.

On this day in 1380, gunpowder was first used in Europe by the Venetians against the Genoese. Its power is said by the Germans to have been discovered accidentally by Berthold Schwartz; but our Roger Bacon who died in 1278, certainly was acquainted with it. Gunpowder was known in India very early, and from thence the knowledge of it was obtained by the Arabians, who employed it in a battle near Mecca so long ago as the year 690.

1677. Wenceslaus Hollar, the engraver, died at Westminster. His view of London in Howell’s “Londinopolis,” and the numerous plates he executed for Dugdale’s “Monasticon,” “Warwickshire,” “St. Paul’s,” “Origines Juridiciales,” and other works have made him well known to the topographer and portrait collector; but his “muffs” and “insects” are particularly beautiful. His style almost peculiar to himself, is known at a glance by the experienced eye; Gaywood, in portraits, and King, in views, were inferior artists of the same school. Merian, in some insects, rivals him formidably. Hollar’s labour was immense as may be seen from Vertue’s catalogue of his prints; yet he often worked at fourpence an hour, and perished in poverty.

1801. Sir Ralph Abercrombie died in Egypt. He received his death-wound on the 21st., during his memorable victory over the French at Alexandria.

1802. Pallas, a new planet, was discovered by Dr. Olbers, of Bremen in Germany.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Lesser Leopardsbane. Doronicum Plantagineum. Dedicated to St. Priscus.

~March 29.~

Sts. Jonas, Barachisius, &c. A. D. 327. Sts. Armogastes, Archinimus, and Saturus, A. D. 457. St. Eustasius, or Eustachius, Abbot, A. D. 625. St. Gundleus, a Welsh King, 5th Cent. St. Mark, Bishop, 4th Cent.

CHRONOLOGY.

1315. Raymond Lulle, the most celebrated chemist and alchymist of his time, was stoned to death by the natives of Mauritania, whither he had gone on a religious mission, at the age of eighty. His attention was directed to chemistry by the power of love. A lady, very handsome, with whom he was passionately enamoured, refused to marry him. One day, when he renewed his solicitation, she showed her bosom inflamed by a cancer. Young Lulle instantly took leave, with the resolution to cure, and if possible, conquer the heart of his mistress. He searched with all the ardour, which affection and compassion could inspire, into the secrets of medicine and chemistry, and had the good fortune to cure, and to marry her. After her death he attached himself to the church. The inhabitants of the island of Majorca, where he was born, in 1236, revere him as a martyr.

1461. The battle which decided the claims of the houses of York and Lancaster was fought between Towton and Saxton, two villages near York. It commenced in a snow storm at day break, was contested with fearful obstinacy till three in the afternoon, and terminated in a deluge of blood. Eight and thirty thousand human beings were left dead on the field; of whom the heralds appointed to number the slain, returned that twenty-eight thousand were Lancastrians. Edward, duke of York, who won the day, rode from the scene of carnage to York, where he ordered the death of several prisoners; while Henry VI. of Lancaster, who lost the crown, escaped with great difficulty to the borders.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Oxelip. Primula elatior. Dedicated to St. Eustasius. Fumitory. Fumaria officinalis. Dedicated to St. Jonas.

~March 30.~

St. John Climacus. St. Zozimus, Bishop of Syracuse, A. D. 660. St. Regulus, or Rieul, Bishop of Senlis.

St. John Climacus, A. D. 605,

Was caverned as a hermit in a rock near Mount Sinai, in Syria, and became at seventy-five, abbot and superior-general of all the monks and hermits of the country. He admired one of the principal citizens of Alexandria in Egypt, who, petitioning to become a monk, was ordered to remain without the gate, and manifested his obedience by staying there for seven years, and begging prayers for his leprous soul of every passenger. St. John also admired a monkish cook, because he generally cried while he cooked, and assigned as a reason, that “the fire he always had before his eyes, reminded him of that fire which will burn souls for all eternity.”[44] It is related that a woman who had committed so enormous a sin that she dare not confess it, came to St. John, who bade her write it, and seal it, and give it to him, and he would pray for her; this she did, and shortly after St. John died. The woman sorely afraid that her written secret would be read, wept and prayed at St. John’s tomb, and begged he would appear and tell her what he had done with the paper; on a sudden, St. John came forth habited like a bishop, with a bishop on each side of him, and he said to the woman, “Why troublest thou me so much, and these saints with me? thou sufferest us to have no rest: look here, our clothes are all wet with thy tears.” Then he delivered to her the paper, sealed as she had given it to him, and said, “See here, look at the seal, open the writing, and read it.” So she did; and she found all her sin “defaced clean out;” and instead thereof was written, “All thy sins are forgiven, and put away by the prayer of St. John, my servant.” Then she returned thanks, and St. John and his two bishops returned to their sepulchres.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Rough Carameni. Cardemeni hirsuta. Dedicated to St. John of Climacus. Lesser Daffodil. Narcissus minor. Dedicated to St. Zozimus.

[44] Butler’s Saints.

~March 31.~

St. Benjamin, Deacon, Martyr, A. D. 424. St. Acacius, or Achates, Bishop of Antioch, A. D. 250, or 251. St. Guy, A. D. 1046.

CHRONOLOGY.

1814. On this day the sovereigns who have since formed the holy alliance, entered Paris at the head of the Russian troops. The capitulation of this capital was succeeded by the return of the Bourbons to France.

~Maundy Thursday,~

OR

SHERE THURSDAY.

Maundy Thursday is always the Thursday before Easter; its name has occasioned some trouble to antiquaries. One writer conceives maundy to be corrupted from the mandate of Christ to his disciples to break bread in remembrance of him: or from his other mandate, after he had washed their feet, to love one another.[45] With better reason it is conceived to be derived from the Saxon word mand, which afterwards became maund, a name for a basket, and subsequently for any gift or offering contained in the basket. Thus Shakspeare says, “a thousand favours from her maund she drew:” and Hall in his satires, speaks of “a maund charged with household merchandize:” so also Drayton tells of “a little maund being made of osiers small;” and Herrick says,

“Behold, for us, the naked graces stay With maunds of roses, for to strew the way.”

The same poet speaks of maundie at alms:

“All’s gone, and death hath taken Away from us Our maundie, thus The widdowes stand forsaken.”

Thus then, “Maundy Thursday, the day preceding Good Friday, on which the king distributes alms to a certain number of poor persons at Whitehall, is so named from the maunds in which the gifts were contained.”[46]

According to annual custom, on Maundy Thursday, 1814, the royal donations were distributed at the Chapel Royal, Whitehall. In the morning, Dr. Carey, the sub-almoner, and Mr. Hanby, the secretary to the lord high almoner, Mr. Nost, and others belonging to the lord chamberlain’s office, attended by a party of the yeomen of the guard, distributed to seventy-five poor women, and seventy-five poor men, being as many as the king was years old, a quantity of salt fish, consisting of salmon, cod, and herrings, pieces of very fine beef, five loaves of bread, and some ale to drink the king’s health. Mr. Hanby gave notice that in future their cases must be certified by the minister of the parish, by order of the lord almoner. At three o’clock they assembled again, the men on one side the chapel, and the women on the other. A procession entered, of those engaged in the ceremony, consisting of a party of yeoman of the guard, one of them carrying a large gold dish on his head, containing 150 bags, with seventy-five silver pennies in each, for the poor people, which was placed in the royal closet. They were followed by the sub-almoner in his robes, with a sash of fine linen over his shoulder and crossing his waist. He was followed by two boys, two girls, the secretary, and another gentleman, with similar sashes, &c. &c., all carrying large nosegays. The church evening service was then performed, at the conclusion of which the silver pennies were distributed, and woollen cloth, linen, shoes and stockings, to the men and women, and a cup of wine to drink the king’s health.

Anciently, on Maundy Thursday, the kings and queens of England washed and kissed the feet of as many poor men and women as they were years old, besides bestowing their maundy on each. This was in imitation of Christ washing his disciples’ feet. Queen Elizabeth performed this at Greenwich, when she was thirty-nine years old, on which occasion the feet of the same number of poor persons were first washed by the yeomen of the laundry with warm water and sweet herbs, afterwards by the sub-almoner, and lastly, by the queen herself; the person who washed, making each time a cross on the pauper’s foot above the toes, and kissing it. This ceremony was performed by the queen, kneeling, being attended by thirty-nine ladies and gentlewomen. Clothes, victuals, and money were then distributed among the poor.[47] James II. is said to have been the last of our monarchs who performed this ceremony in person. It was afterwards performed by the almoner. On the 5th of April, 1731, it being Maundy Thursday, the king being then in his forty-eighth year, there was distributed at the Banquetting-house, Whitehall, to forty-eight poor men and forty-eight poor women, boiled beef and shoulders of mutton, and small bowls of ale, which is called dinner; after that, large wooden platters of fish and loaves, viz. undressed, one large old ling, and one large dried cod; twelve red herrings, and twelve white herrings, and four half quartern loaves. Each person had one platter of this provision; after which was distributed to them shoes, stockings, linen and woollen cloth, and leathern bags, with one-penny, two-penny, three-penny, and four-penny pieces of silver, and shillings; to each about four pounds in value. His grace, the lord archbishop of York, lord high almoner, performed the annual ceremony of washing the feet of the poor in the Royal Chapel, Whitehall, as was formerly done by the kings themselves.[48]

This day was also called Shere Thursday, and by corruption Chare Thursday. Shere Thursday signified that it was the day whereon the clergy were wont to shere or shear their heads, or get them shorn or shaven, and to clip their beards against Easter-day.[49] In the miraculous legend of St. Brandon it is related that he sailed with his monks to the island of sheep, “and on sherethursdaye, after souper, he wesshe theyr feet and kyssed them lyke as our lorde dyd to his dyscyples.”[50] Maundy Thursday is nowhere observed in London except, as before stated, at the Chapel Royal.

[45] Dunton’s British Apollo.

[46] Archdeacon Nares’s “Glossary,” wherein the authorities briefly cited above are set forth at large.

[47] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[48] Lambarde.

[49] Brand’s Pop. Antiq. Nares’s Glossary, Chare and shere.

[50] Golden Legend.

~Good Friday.~

A Holiday at all the Public Offices.

This and Christmas-day are the only two close holidays now observed throughout London, by the general shutting up of shops, and the opening of all the churches. The dawn is awakened by a cry in the streets of “Hot-cross-buns; one-a-penny buns, two-a-penny buns; one-a-penny, two-a-penny, hot-cross-buns!” This proceeds from some little “peep-o’-day boy,” willing to take the “top of the morning” before the rest of his compeers. He carries his covered buns in a basket hanging on one arm, while his other hand is straightened like an open door, at the side of his mouth, to let forth his childish voice, and he “pipes and trebles out the sound” to the extremity of his lungs. Scarcely has he departed before others come; “another and another still succeeds,” and at last the whole street is in one “common cry of buns.” Old men and young men, young women and old women, big children and little children, are engaged in this occupation, and “some cry now who never cried before.” The bun-venders who eclipse the rest in voice and activity, are young women who drive fruit-barrows--barrows, by the bye, are no more, but of them by and bye. A couple of these ex-barrow-women trip along, carrying a wicker clothes-basket between them, in which the “hot-cross-buns” are covered, first by a clean flannel or green baize, and outwardly by a clean white cloth, which coverings are slowly and partially removed, for fear of letting the buns cool, when a customer stops to buy, or calls them to the door. They continue their lengthened cry, with a volume of concerted sound, unequalled by other rivals in the ephemeral Good Friday trade. These scenes and sounds continue till church-time, and resume in the afternoon. It partially commences on the evening before Good Friday, but with little success.

Some thirty or forty years ago pastrycooks and bakers vied with each other for excellence in making hot-cross-buns; the demand has decreased, and so has the quality of the buns. But the great place of attraction for bun-eaters at that time was Chelsea; for there were the two “royal bun-houses.” Before and along the whole length of the long front of each, stood a flat-roofed, neat, wooden portico or piazza of the width of the foot-path, beneath which shelter “from summer’s heat and winter’s cold,” crowds of persons assembled to scramble for a chance of purchasing “royal hot cross Chelsea buns,” within a reasonable time; and several hundreds of square black tins, with dozens of hot buns on each tin, were disposed of in every hour from a little after six in the morning, till after the same period in the evening of Good Friday. Those who knew what was good, better than new comers, gave the preference to the “old original royal bun-house,” which had been a bun-house “ever since it was a house,” and at which “the king himself once stopped,” and who could say as much for the other? This was the conclusive tale at the door, and from within the doors, of the “old original bun-house.” Alas! and alack! there is that house now; and there is the house that was opened as its rival; but where are ye who contributed to their renown and custom, among the apprentices and journeymen, and the little comfortable tradesmen of the metropolis, and their wives and children--where are ye? With ye hath the fame of “Chelsea buns” departed, and the “royal bun-houses” are little more distinguished than the humble graves wherein ye rest.

* * * * *

Formerly “hot-cross-buns” were commonly eaten in London by families at breakfast, and some families still retain the usage. They are of the usual form of buns; though they are distinguished from them inwardly by a sweeter taste, and the flavour of all-spice, and outwardly by the mark or sign of the cross. The “hot-cross-bun” is the most popular symbol of the Roman catholic religion in England that the reformation has left. Of the use of the cross, as a mark or sign in papal worship and devotion, most readers are aware; for it has been insisted on by Roman catholic writers from the days of Constantine to Alban Butler himself, who giving example of its great virtue on Good Friday, says, “to add one more instance, out of many, St. Teresa assures us, in her own life, that one day the devil, by a phantom, appeared to sit on the letters of her book, to disturb her at her devotions; but she drove him away thrice by the sign of the cross, and at last sprinkled the book with holy water; after which he returned no more.”[51] In the houses of some ignorant people, a Good Friday bun is still kept “for luck,” and sometimes there hangs from the ceiling a hard biscuit-like cake of open cross-work, baked on a Good Friday, to remain there till displaced on the next Good Friday by one of similar make; and of this the editor of the Every-Day Book has heard affirmed, that “it preserves the house from fire;” “no fire ever happened in a house that had one.” This undoubtedly is a relic of the old superstition; as is also a vulgar notion in the west of England, that the straight stripe down the shoulders of the ass, intersected by the long one from the neck to the tail, is a cross of honour conferred upon him by Christ, and that before Christ rode upon the ass, that animal was not so distinguished.

Hot-cross-buns are the ecclesiastical Eulogiæ, or consecrated loaves, bestowed in the church as alms, and to those who from any impediment could not receive the host. They are made from the dough from whence the host itself is taken, and are given by the priest to the people after mass, just before the congregation is dismissed, and are kissed before they are eaten. They are marked with the cross as our Good Friday buns are. Winckelman relates this remarkable fact, that at Herculaneum were found two entire loaves of the same size, a palm and a half, or five inches in diameter. They were marked by a cross, within which were four other lines; and so the bread of the Greeks was marked from the earliest periods. Sometimes it had only four lines, and then it was called quadra. This bread had rarely any other mark than a cross, which was on purpose to divide and break it more easily.[52]

The Tenebræ, a Roman catholic service signifying darkness, is performed on and before Good Friday, to denote the circumstances and darkness at the crucifixion. This is partly symbolized by a triangular candlestick with fourteen yellow wax candles and one white one, seven of these yellow candles being on one side, the seven other yellow ones on the other side, and the white wax candle being at the top. The fourteen yellow candles represent the eleven apostles, the virgin Mary, and the women that were with her at the crucifixion; the white candle at the top is to represent Christ. Fourteen psalms are sung, and at the end of each psalm one of the yellow candles is put out till the whole fourteen are extinguished, and the white candle alone left alight. After this and the extinction of the light on the altar, “the white candle is taken down from the top of the triangular candlestick, and hid under the altar.” The putting out of the fourteen candles is to denote the flight or mourning of the apostles and the women; and the hiding of the white candle denotes that Christ is in the sepulchre; then a noise is made by beating the desks or books, and by beating the floor with the hands and feet, and this noise is to represent the earthquake and the splitting of the rocks at the crucifixion.[53]

In the church of St. Peter’s at Rome on Good Friday, the hundred burning lamps on the tomb of St. Peter are extinguished, and a stupendous illuminated cross depends from the immense dome of the cathedral, as if it hung self-supported. But to relate the papal ceremonies pertaining to the fast of lent, and its ensuing festival, would fill volumes of this size, and we hasten from the devices of men to contemplate works which all his art is incompetent to rival.

Nature! to me, thou art more beautiful In thy most simple forms, than all that man Hath made, with all his genius, and his power Of combination: for he cannot raise One structure, pinnacled, or domed, or gemm’d, By architectural rule, or cunning hand, Like to the smallest plant, or flower, or leaf, Which living hath a tongue, that doth discourse Most eloquent of Him, the great Creator Of all living things. Man’s makings fail To tell of aught but this, that he, the framer Sought also to create, and fail’d, because No life can he impart, or breath infuse, To give inertness being.

[51] Butler’s Moveable Feasts, 1774, 8vo. p. 379.

[52] Fosbroke’s Brit. Monach. Herculaneum it will be remembered was overwhelmed and destroyed by the volcanic eruption of Mount Vesuvius, A. D. 79.

[53] Butler’s Moveable Feasts.

Next came fresh April, full of lustyhed, And wanton as a kid whose horne new buds; Upon a bull he rode, the same which led Europa floting through th’ Argolick fluds: His horns were gilden all with golden studs, And garnished with garlands goodly dight Of all the fairest flowers and freshest buds Which th’ earth brings forth; and wet he seem’d in sight With waves, through which he waded for his love’s delight.

Spenser.

This is the fourth month of the year. Its Latin name is Aprilis, from aperio, to open or set forth. The Saxons called it, Oster or Eastermonath, in which month, the feast of the Saxon goddess, Eastre, Easter, or Eoster is said to have been celebrated.[54] April, with us, is sometimes represented as a girl clothed in green, with a garland of myrtle and hawthorn buds; holding in one hand primroses and violets, and in the other the zodiacal sign, Taurus, or the bull, into which constellation the sun enters during this month. The Romans consecrated the first of April to Venus, the goddess of beauty, the mother of love, the queen of laughter, the mistress of the graces; and the Roman widows and virgins assembled in the temple of Virile Fortune, and disclosing their personal deformities, prayed the goddess to conceal them from their husbands.[55]

In this month the business of creation seems resumed. The vital spark rekindles in dormant existences; and all things “live, and move, and have their being.” The earth puts on her livery to await the call of her lord; the air breathes gently on his cheek, and conducts to his ear the warblings of the birds, and the odours of new-born herbs and flowers; the great eye of the world “sees and shines” with bright and gladdening glances; the waters teem with life, man himself feels the revivifying and all-pervading influence; and his

---- spirit holds communion sweet With the brighter spirits of the sky.

[54] Sayer’s Disquisitions.

[55] Lempriere.

~April 1.--All Fools’ Day.~

St. Hugh, Bp. A. D. 1132. St. Melito, Bp. A. D. 175. St. Gilbert, Bp. of Cathness, A. D. 1240.

On the first of April, 1712, Lord Bolingbroke stated, that in the wars, called the “glorious wars of queen Anne,” the duke of Marlborough had not lost a single battle--and yet, that the French had carried their point, the succession to the Spanish monarchy, the pretended cause of these wars. Dean Swift called this statement “a due donation for ‘All Fools’ Day!’”

On the first of April, 1810, Napoleon married Maria Louisa, archduchess of Austria, on which occasion some of the waggish Parisians called him “un poisson d’Avril,” a term which answers to our April fool. On the occasion of his nuptials, Napoleon struck a medal, with Love bearing a thunderbolt for its device.

It is customary on this day for boys to practise jocular deceptions. When they succeed, they laugh at the person whom they think they have rendered ridiculous, and exclaim, “Ah! you April fool!”

Thirty years ago, when buckles were worn in shoes, a boy would meet a person in the street with--“Sir, if you please, your shoe’s unbuckled,” and the moment the accosted individual looked towards his feet, the informant would cry--“Ah! you April fool!” Twenty years ago, when buckles were wholly disused, the urchin-cry was--“Sir, your shoe’s untied;” and if the shoe-wearer lowered his eyes, he was hailed, as his buckled predecessor had been, with the said--“Ah! you April fool!” Now, when neither buckles nor strings are worn, because in the year 1825 no decent man “has a shoe to his foot,” the waggery of the day is--“Sir, there’s something out of your pocket.” “Where?” “There!” “What?” “Your hand, sir--Ah! you April fool!” Or else some lady is humbly bowed to, and gravely addressed with “Ma’am, I beg your pardon, but you’ve something on your face!” “Indeed, my man! what is it?” “Your nose, ma’am--Ah! you April fool!”

The tricks that youngsters play off on the first of April are various as their fancies. One, who has yet to know the humours of the day, they send to a cobbler’s for a pennyworth of the best “stirrup oil;” the cobbler receives the money, and the novice receives a hearty cut or two from the cobbler’s strap: if he does not, at the same time, obtain the information that he is “an April fool,” he is sure to be acquainted with it on returning to his companions. The like knowledge is also gained by an errand to some shop for half a pint of “pigeon’s milk,” or an inquiry at a bookseller’s for the “Life and Adventures of Eve’s Mother.”

Then, in-door young ones club their wicked wits, And almost frighten servants into fits-- “Oh, John! James! John!--oh, quick! oh! Molly, oh Oh, the trap-door! oh, Molly! down below!” “What, what’s the matter!” scream, with wild surprise John, James, and Molly, while the young ones’ cries Redouble till they come; then all the boys Shout “Ah! you April fools!” with clamorous noise; And little girls enticed down stairs to see, Stand peeping, clap their hands, and cry “te-hee!” Each gibing boy escapes a different way, And meet again some trick, “as good as that,” to play.

*

Much is written concerning the custom of fool-making on the first of April, but with this result only, that it is very ancient and very general.[56] As a better opportunity will occur hereafter, nothing will be said here respecting “fools” by profession.

The practice of making fools on this day in North Britain, is usually exercised by sending a person from place to place by means of a letter, in which is written

“On the first day of April Hunt the gowk another mile.”

This is called “hunting the gowk;” and the bearer of the “fools’ errand” is called an “April gowk.” Brand says, that gowk is properly a cuckoo, and is used here metaphorically for a fool; this appears correct; for from the Saxon “geac, a cuckoo,” is derived geck,[57] which means “one easily imposed on.” Malvolio, who had been “made a fool” by a letter, purporting to have been written by Olivia, inquires of her

“Why have you suffered me to be-- --Made the most notorious geck and gull That e’er invention play’d on?”

Olivia affirms, that the letter was not written by her, and exclaims to Malvolio

“Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee!”

Geck is likewise derivable “from the Teutonic geck, jocus.”[58]

The “April fool” is among the Swedes. Toreen, one of their travellers, says, “We set sail on the first of April, and the wind made April fools of us, for we were forced to return before Shagen.” On the Sunday and Monday preceding Lent, people are privileged at Lisbon to play the fool: it is thought very jocose to pour water on any person who passes, or throw powder in his face; but to do both is the perfection of wit.[59] The Hindoos also at their Huli festival keep a general holiday on the 31st of March, and one subject of diversion is to send people on errands and expeditions that are to end in disappointment, and raise a laugh at the expense of the persons sent. Colonel Pearce says, that “high and low join in it; and,” he adds, “the late Suraja Doulah, I am told, was very fond of making Huli fools, though he was a mussulman of the highest rank. They carry the joke here (in India) so far, as to send letters making appointments, in the name of persons, who, it is known, must be absent from their house at the time fixed upon; and the laugh is always in proportion to the trouble given.”[60]

The April fool among the French is called “un poisson d’Avril.” Their transformation of the term is not well accounted for, but their customs on the day are similar to ours. In one instance a “joke” was carried too far. At Paris, on the 1st of April, 1817, a young lady pocketed a watch in the house of a friend. She was arrested the same day, and taken before the correctional police, when being charged with the fact, she said it was an April trick (un poisson d’Avril.) She was asked whether the watch was in her custody? She denied it; but a messenger was sent to her apartment, and it was found on the chimney-place. Upon which the young lady said, she had made the messenger un poisson d’Avril, “an April fool.” The pleasantry, however, did not end so happily, for the young lady was jocularly recommended to remain in the house of correction till the 1st of April, 1818, and then to be discharged as un poisson d’Avril.[61]

* * * * *

It must not be forgotten, that the practice of “making April fool” in England, is often indulged by persons of maturer years, and in a more agreeable way. There are some verses that pleasantly exemplify this:[62]

To a LADY, who threatened to make the AUTHOR an APRIL FOOL.

Why strive, dear girl, to make a fool Of one not wise before, Yet, having ’scaped from folly’s school, Would fain go there no more?

Ah! if I must to school again, Wilt thou my teacher be? I’m sure no lesson will be vain Which thou canst give to me.

One of thy kind and gentle looks, Thy smiles devoid of art, Avail, beyond all crabbed books, To regulate my heart.

Thou need’st not call some fairy elf, On any April-day, To make thy bard forget himself, Or wander from his way.

One thing he never can forget, Whatever change may be, The sacred hour when first he met And fondly gazed on thee.

A seed then fell into his breast; Thy spirit placed it there: Need I, my Julia, tell the rest? Thou seest the blossoms here.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Annual Mercury. Mercurialis annua. Dedicated to St. Hugh.

[56] Brand.

[57] Ash.

[58] Jamieson, in Nare’s Glossary.

[59] Southey, quoted in Brand, as also Toreen.

[60] Asiat. Res. in Brand, from Maurice.

[61] Morn. Chron. June 17, 1817.

[62] Cited by Brand from Julia, or Last Follies, 1798, 4to.

~April 2.~

St. Francis of Paula. St. Apian, A. D. 306. St. Theodosia, A. D. 308. St. Nicetius, Abp. of Lyons, A. D. 577. St. Ebba, Abbess, and her companions, A. D. 870, or 874. B. Constantine II. king of Scotland, A. D. 874. St. Bronacha, or Bronanna, Abbess.

St. Francis of Paula

Was a Calabrian, and at fifteen years old shut himself up in a cave, in a rock on the coast. Before twenty he was joined by two others, and the people built them three cells; the number increased, and so arose the order of friar Minims, which means the least of the friars. Constant abstinence from flesh, and all food made of milk or eggs, was one of their rules. In 1479, being invited to Sicily, “he was received there as an angel from heaven, wrought miracles, and built several monasteries.” He prophesied, held burning coals in his hand without being burnt, restored his nephew to life, cured people of the plague, received the host with a cord about his neck on Maundy Thursday, died on the 2d of April, 1508, aged ninety-one, and was buried till 1562 when the hugonots burnt his bones with the wood of a crucifix.[63]

Besides this, it is related, that the elements lost their force against him; that he walked upon fire; entered into a burning oven without harm; and made a sea voyage on his own cloak instead of a ship, and had a companion on board with him.[64]

According to another account he was much worried by the devil. Once while he was at prayers the devil called him three times by his own name. Another time he was so possessed by the fiend, that he had no other way to get rid of him, than by stripping and beating himself with a hard cord, crying while he did it, “thus brother ass thou must be beaten;” after which he ran into the snow and made seven snowballs, intending to swallow them if the devil had not taken his leave. Then a whole parcel of devils came one night, and gave him a grievous beating; this was because he lodged in a cardinal’s palace, and it occasioned him to shift his lodging. Afterwards, when at prayers, he saw upon the roof of the house whole companies of these infernals. He was a bird-fancier. A bird sat singing on a fig-tree by the side of his cell, he called it to him; the bird came upon his hand, and he said to it--“Sing, my sister, and praise the Lord,” and the bird sat singing till he gave it liberty to go away. Going to Venice with his companions, and hearing birds singing in a wood, he proposed to sing the canonical hours, but the monks could not hear themselves for the chanters of the grove, wherefore, he entreated the feathered choir to be silent, and they remained so till he gave them liberty to proceed. At another place when he was preaching, he could not be heard for the swallows, which were making their nests; he said to them--“Sister swallows, it is time for me to speak; as you’ve said enough, be quiet,” and so they were. It was customary with him when one of his friars had committed a fault to take off the friar’s hood, and throw it into the fire, from whence after staying there a proper time, he commanded it to be restored to the friar, and the hood was then taken out of the fire without having sustained injury. More to the like effect, and of equal credibility, is related of this saint in the Golden Legend.

CHRONOLOGY.

1801. Lord Nelson’s victory at Copenhagen, when eighteen sail of the line were either captured or destroyed.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

White Violet. Viola alba. Dedicated to St. Francis of Paula.

[63] Butler.

[64] Ribadeneira.

~Moveable feasts.~

⁂ AN ERROR under the above title having crept into the Every-Day Book, at p. 190, and also extended to the list of “Moveable feasts,” the reader will please to correct that list, &c. by the following statement.

Shrove Sunday is the Sunday next before Shrove Tuesday. It is also called Quinquagesima Sunday.

Shrove Tuesday is always the seventh Tuesday before Easter-day.

Care, or Carle Sunday is the fifth Sunday in Lent, and the second Sunday before Easter-day.

Maundy Thursday, also called Chare or Shere Thursday, is the day before Good Friday.

Good Friday is the Friday in Passion-week, and consequently the Friday next before Easter-day.

EASTER-DAY is always the first Sunday after the first full moon, which happens on or next after the 21st of March; but if the full moon happens upon a Sunday, Easter-day is the Sunday following.

Octave or Utas of a Feast.

The Octave or Utas of each feast is always the eighth day after it occurs; for example, the feast of St. Hillary is the 13th of January, hence the octave of St. Hillary is the 22d of January.

†⸸†THESE CORRECTIONS would have been made in the sheet itself, but a great number of copies having been printed, before the error was discovered, it became necessary to postpone the rectification. See NOTE below.[65]

[65] Mr. NICOLAS obligingly informs me, that since his “Notitia Historica” was printed, he has ascertained that the rule laid down for Shrove Tuesday, in that work, was not correct, and that having made some alterations in the event of a second edition being demanded, and finding I had cited the part containing the error, he thought it right to send me a copy of his corrections, from whence the preceding list is formed. There can scarcely be a doubt that a second edition of Mr. Nicolas’s “Notitia Historica” will be required speedily, because the series of Tables, Calendars, and miscellaneous information which it contains must be eminently useful, not only to the legal profession, antiquaries, and every historical and topographical inquirer, but to general readers, many of whom daily suffer inconvenience without such a source of reference. W. H.

~Easter.~

EASTER-DAY is distinguished by its peculiar name, through our Saxon ancestors, who at this season of the year held a great festival, in honour of the goddess Eastor, probably the Astarte of the eastern nations. The French call this festival Paques, derived from the Greek pascha, which is also derived from the Hebrew pesech, meaning passover; and whence we have the English word paschal, applied to the lamb, which formed part of the evening meal, the last of which our saviour partook, before his death, with his twelve missionaries. In Cambridgeshire the word pasch is still in use, and applied to a flower which appears at this time on the Gogmagog hills and its environs. The day is of importance in a civil, as well as in a religious, light; for on this day depend the openings of our courts of law, which take place after it, and the festivals of the church are arranged in conformity to it. By the act of parliament on this subject, and the rule given in conformity to it in the “Common Prayer-Book,” which of course every body has an opportunity of seeing, “EASTER-DAY is always the first Sunday after the Full Moon, which happens upon, or next after, the twenty-first day of March; and if the Full Moon happen upon a Sunday, Easter-day is the Sunday after.”

One would think, that when such precise directions had been given, and the state of the moon on any day is so clearly and easily ascertained, that there would be no difficulty in following them; but experience has proved that contrary deviations from the act of parliament have been numerous. These have been pointed out at various times, but without any effect on the public. In the year 1735, Henry Wilson, of Tower-hill, styling himself mathematician, denounced the errors on this subject in a very ingenious work, entitled “The regulation of Easter, or the cause of the errours and differences contracted in the calculation of it, discovered and duly considered, showing--The frequency and consequence of that errour, with the cause from whence it proceeds, and a method proposed for rectifying it, and reconciling the differences about it, and for restoring the time of celebrating that great solemnity in its primitive certainty and exactness, and that without the difficulty and confusion which some have objected would attend such a regulation.” 8vo.

Within these few years an error in the observance of Easter took place, and on all the almanacs fixing an improper day for its observance, a memorial was presented to the lords in council and to the prince regent, humbly soliciting their interference on this subject. It was noticed also by Mr. Frend, in his “Evening Amusements;” and a clergyman of Oxford published a pamphlet on the occasion. There was also, we believe, one clergyman, who, disregarding the almanac, obeyed the rubric, and read the services for Easter-day, and the Sundays depending on it, on very different days from those adopted in other churches. It was remarkable also, that in that very year, judge Garrow arrived at Gloucester a short time after twelve o’clock at night, of the day on which the assizes were to commence, and the high-sheriff very properly representing his scruples, on the legality of then commencing the assizes, they were delayed till the opinion of the judges could be taken, and the consequence was, the issuing of a new writ. Thus the difference of a few minutes was considered fatal to the opening of a country court, though the courts of law at Westminster had been opened a few months before, when a much greater error had taken place with respect to Easter-day, on which, as before observed, the opening of those courts depends.

To understand this subject we must refer back to the origin of this festival, instituted in honour of the resurrection of our saviour, which took place on the third day after his execution as a malefactor. Friday had been fixed upon as the day of commemorating his death, and as that took place on the day of full moon, the first full moon after the twenty-first of March was fixed upon as the regulator of the festival. The great point had in view was to prevent the festival of Easter-day from being observed on the day of a full moon, but as near to it as circumstances would admit, and in consequence there is a great difference in the times of observing this festival; it being specially provided, however, that it should happen after a full moon. The Jews observe their passover by juster rules; the day for the celebration of it taking place on different days of the week: but the Christians having fixed on Friday for the celebration of the fast on the death of our saviour, the Easter-day, on the following Sunday, was accommodated to it, and both were so fixed, that there could not be a full moon on the Easter-day, nor for some weeks after it.

In this year, 1825, the full moon occurs at twenty-three minutes past six in the morning of the third of April; consequently, according to the act of parliament, and the rubric of the church, Easter-day ought to be celebrated on the tenth, and the courts of law ought to open, or Easter term begin, on the twenty-seventh; but our almanac-makers thought good to fix Easter-day on the third, and consequently Easter term is placed by them on the twentieth, on which day it is presumed that judicial proceedings will commence.

Easter-day is observed all over Christendom with peculiar rites. In the catholic church high mass is celebrated, the host is adored with the greatest reverence, and both Catholics and Protestants might be led from it, to a more particular attention to the circumstances attending its form and substance. The host, derived from the Latin word hostia, meaning a victim, is a consecrated wafer, of a circular form, composed of flour and water. Both substance and form are regulated by custom of very ancient date. On the night before his execution, our saviour took bread, and blessing it, divided it among his missionaries; but the bread he took was not ordinary bread, but unleavened bread, such as is used by the Jews during the passover week in the present days. This bread is composed of merely flour and water, no leaven during the festival of their passover being permitted to enter the house of a Jew. It is a kind of biscuit of a circular form, and the host thus, by its form and substance, brings us back to the recollection of the Catholics, and the rite celebrated by our saviour. It is the representation of the Jewish cake, or unleavened bread, which is to this day eaten by that nation during the passover week.

The Protestants have deviated from this custom, and in their churches use leavened bread, without any regard to form, and they cut it with a knife into small pieces, forgetting that our saviour broke the bread; but some use leavened bread, and, as they cannot break it, they attempt to imitate our saviour’s action by tearing it in pieces.

For those who wish to have a more comprehensive view of this subject, the following works are recommended: Cardinal Bona on the mass; Dean Comber on the liturgy; and above all, the Hebrew ritual, which is translated into English, and to which both Catholics and Protestants are indebted for greater part of their services.[66]

[66] This article on “Easter” is communicated by the gentleman who favoured the editor with the account of the “Vernal Equinox,” at p. 375.

~April 3.~

1825. EASTER SUNDAY. The Resurrection.

Sts. Agape, Chionia, and Irene, Sisters, and their Companions, A. D. 304; St. Richard. St. Ulpian. St. Nicetas, Abbot, A. D. 824.

St. Richard de Wiche

Was born at Wiche, near Worcester; studied at Oxford, Paris, and Bologna; became chancellor to the diocese of Canterbury; and was consecrated bishop of Chichester in 1245, against the desire of Henry III who seized his temporalities. These he regained by replevin, and pleading his cause against the king’s deputies before Innocent IV at Rome, a papal decree confirmed his election. Among his clergy he was a strict disciplinarian, and a friend and comforter to the poor. Preaching a crusade, according to the fashion of those times, against the Saracens, he fell sick, and died in the hospital at Dover, called God’s-house, in 1253, in the fifty-sixth year of his age, and in the ninth of his episcopal functions. This is a brief character of an exemplary prelate, but the credulous Butler chooses to affirm, that three dead persons were restored to life, and other miraculous cures were worked at his tomb. Father Porter gossips a story of a miraculous flow of unction at his consecration; of a dead-born child having been brought to life by his dead merits; and of the touch of his old clothes having cured the diseased, with other performances, “which moved pope Boniface IV. to enrol him into the number of the canonized saincts.” Such wonders have never been performed in our days, and hence late popes have not been able to make saints. If bibles could be suppressed, and the printing-press destroyed, miracles and canonizations would “come in” again.

* * * * *

For particulars respecting Easter-day and Easter Monday, see Easter Tuesday, 5th of APRIL.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Evergreen Alkanet. Anchusa sempervirus. Dedicated to St. Agape.

~April 4.~

St. Isidore, Bishop of Seville, A. D. 636 St. Plato, Abbot, A. D. 813.

EASTER MONDAY

Holiday at the Public Offices; except Excise, Custom, and Stamp.

CHRONOLOGY.

1774. Oliver Goldsmith died: he was born in Ireland, November 29th, 1728.

1802. Lloyd, lord Kenyon, lord chief-justice of England, died, aged 69.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Red Crown Imperial. Fritillaria Imperialis. Dedicated to St Isidore.

~April 5.~

St. Vincent Ferrer, A. D. 1419. St. Gerald, Abbot, A. D. 1095. St. Tigernach, Bishop in Ireland, A. D. 550. St. Becan, Abbot.

EASTER TUESDAY.

Holidays at the Public Offices; except Excise, Stamp, and Custom.

CHRONOLOGY.

1605. John Stow, the antiquary, died, aged 80. He was a tailor.

1800. The rev. William Mason died. He was born at Hull, in Yorkshire, in 1725.

1804. The rev. William Gilpin, author of “Picturesque Tours,” “Remarks on Forest Scenery,” an “Essay on Prints,” &c. died aged 80.

1811. Robert Raikes, of Gloucester, died, aged 76. He was the originator of sunday-schools, and spent his life in acts of kindness and compassion; promoting education as a source of happiness to his fellow beings, and bestowing his exertions and bounty to benefit the helpless.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Yellow Crown Imperial. Fritillaria Imperialis Lutea. Dedicated to St. Vincent Ferrer.

~Easter Customs.~

Dancing of the Sun.

The day before Easter-day is in some parts called “Holy Saturday.” On the evening of this day, in the middle districts of Ireland, great preparations are made for the finishing of Lent. Many a fat hen and dainty piece of bacon is put in the pot by the cotter’s wife about eight or nine o’clock, and woe be to the person who should taste it before the cock crows. At twelve is heard the clapping of hands, and the joyous laugh, mixed with “Shidth or mogh or corries,” i. e. out with the Lent: all is merriment for a few hours, when they retire, and rise about four o’clock to see the sun dance in honour of the resurrection. This ignorant custom is not confined to the humble labourer and his family, but is scrupulously observed by many highly respectable and wealthy families, different members of whom I have heard assert positively that they had seen the sun dance on Easter morning.[67]

It is inquired in Dunton’s “Athenian Oracle,” “Why does the sun at his rising play more on Easter-day than Whit-Sunday?” The question is answered thus:--“The matter of fact is an old, weak, superstitious error, and the sun neither plays nor works on Easter-day more than any other. It is true, it may sometimes happen to shine brighter that morning than any other; but, if it does, it is purely accidental. In some parts of England they call it the lamb-playing, which they look for, as soon as the sun rises, in some clear or spring water, and is nothing but the pretty reflection it makes from the water, which they may find at any time, if the sun rises clear, and they themselves early, and unprejudiced with fancy.” The folly is kept up by the fact, that no one can view the sun steadily at any hour, and those who choose to look at it, or at its reflection in water, see it apparently move, as they would on any other day. Brand points out an allusion to this vulgar notion in an old ballad:--

But, Dick, she dances such away! No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.

Again, from the “British Apollo,” a presumed question to the sun himself upon the subject, elicits a suitable answer:

Q. Old wives, Phœbus, say That on Easter-day To the music o’ th’ spheres you do caper; If the fact, sir, be true, Pray let’s the cause know, When you have any room in your paper.

A. The old wives get merry With spic’d ale or sherry, On Easter, which makes them romance; And whilst in a rout Their brains whirl about, They fancy we caper and dance.

A bit of smoked glass, such as boys use to view an eclipse with, would put this matter steady to every eye but that of wilful self-deception, which, after all, superstition always chooses to see through.

Lifting.

Mr. Ellis inserts, in his edition of Mr. Brand’s “Popular Antiquities,” a letter from Mr. Thomas Loggan of Basinghall-street, from whence the following extract is made: Mr. Loggan says, “I was sitting alone last Easter Tuesday, at breakfast, at the Talbot in Shrewsbury, when I was surprised by the entrance of all the female servants of the house handing in an arm-chair, lined with white, and decorated with ribbons and favours of different colours. I asked them what they wanted, their answer was, they came to heave me; it was the custom of the place on that morning, and they hoped I would take a seat in their chair. It was impossible not to comply with a request very modestly made, and to a set of nymphs in their best apparel, and several of them under twenty. I wished to see all the ceremony, and seated myself accordingly. The group then lifted me from the ground, turned the chair about, and I had the felicity of a salute from each. I told them, I supposed there was a fee due upon the occasion, and was answered in the affirmative; and, having satisfied the damsels in this respect, they withdrew to heave others. At this time I had never heard of such a custom; but, on inquiry, I found that on Easter Monday, between nine and twelve, the men heave the women in the same manner as on the Tuesday, between the same hours, the women heave the men.”

In Lancashire, Staffordshire, Warwickshire, and some other parts of England there prevails this custom of heaving or lifting at Easter-tide. This is performed mostly in the open street, though sometimes it is insisted on and submitted to within the house. People form into parties of eight or a dozen or even more for the purpose, and from every one lifted or heaved they extort a contribution. The late Mr. Lysons read to the Society of Antiquaries an extract from a roll in his custody, as keeper of the records in the tower of London, which contains a payment to certain ladies and maids of honour for taking king Edward I. in his bed at Easter; from whence it has been presumed that he was lifted on the authority of that custom, which is said to have prevailed among all ranks throughout the kingdom. The usage is a vulgar commemoration of the resurrection which the festival of Easter celebrates.

Lifting or heaving differs a little in different places. In some parts the person is laid horizontally, in others placed in a sitting position on the bearers’ hands. Usually, when the lifting or heaving is within doors, a chair is produced, but in all cases the ceremony is incomplete without three distinct elevations.

A Warwickshire correspondent, L. S., says, Easter Monday and Easter Tuesday were known by the name of heaving-day, because on the former day it was customary for the men to heave and kiss the women, and on the latter for the women to retaliate upon the men. The women’s heaving-day was the most amusing. Many a time have I passed along the streets inhabited by the lower orders of people, and seen parties of jolly matrons assembled round tables on which stood a foaming tankard of ale. There they sat in all the pride of absolute sovereignty, and woe to the luckless man that dared to invade their prerogatives!--as sure as he was seen he was pursued--as sure as he was pursued he was taken--and as sure as he was taken he was heaved and kissed, and compelled to pay sixpence for “leave and license” to depart.

Conducted as lifting appears to have been by the blooming lasses of Shrewsbury, and acquitted as all who are actors in the usage any where must be, of even the slightest knowledge that this practice is an absurd performance of the resurrection, still it must strike the reflective mind as at least an absurd custom, “more honored i’ the breach than the observance.” It has been handed down to us from the bewildering ceremonies of the Romish church, and may easily be discountenanced into disuse by opportune and mild persuasion. If the children of ignorant persons be properly taught, they will perceive in adult years the gross follies of their parentage, and so instruct their own offspring, that not a hand or voice shall be lifted or heard from the sons of labour, in support of a superstition that darkened and dismayed man, until the printing-press and the reformation ensured his final enlightenment and emancipation.

Easter Eggs.

Another relic of the ancient times, are the eggs which pass about at Easter week under the name of pask, paste, or pace eggs. A communication introduces the subject at once.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

19th March, 1825.

A perusal of the Every-Day Book induces me to communicate the particulars of a custom still prevalent in some parts of Cumberland, although not as generally attended to as it was twenty or thirty years ago. I allude to the practice of sending reciprocal presents of eggs, at Easter, to the children of families respectively, betwixt whom any intimacy subsists. For some weeks preceding Good Friday the price of eggs advances considerably, from the great demand occasioned by the custom referred to.

The modes adopted to prepare the eggs for presentation are the following: there may be others which have escaped my recollection.

The eggs being immersed in hot water for a few moments, the end of a common tallow-candle is made use of to inscribe the names of individuals, dates of particular events, &c. The warmth of the egg renders this a very easy process. Thus inscribed, the egg is placed in a pan of hot water, saturated with cochineal, or other dye-woods; the part over which the tallow has been passed is impervious to the operation of the dye; and consequently when the egg is removed from the pan, there appears no discolouration of the egg where the inscription has been traced, but the egg presents a white inscription on a coloured ground. The colour of course depends upon the taste of the person who prepared the egg; but usually much variety of colour is made use of.

Another method of ornamenting “pace eggs” is, however, much neater, although more laborious, than that with the tallow-candle. The egg being dyed, it may be decorated in a very pretty manner, by means of a penknife, with which the dye may be scraped off, leaving the design white, on a coloured ground. An egg is frequently divided into compartments, which are filled up according to the taste and skill of the designer. Generally one compartment contains the name and (being young and unsophisticated) also the age of the party for whom the egg is intended. In another is, perhaps, a landscape; and sometimes a cupid is found lurking in a third: so that these “pace eggs” become very useful auxiliaries to the missives of St. Valentine. Nothing was more common in the childhood of the writer, than to see a number of these eggs preserved very carefully in the corner-cupboard; each egg being the occupant of a deep, long-stemmed ale-glass, through which the inscription could be read without removing it. Probably many of these eggs now remain in Cumberland, which would afford as good evidence of dates in a court of justice, as a tombstone or a family-bible.

It will be readily supposed that the majority of pace eggs are simply dyed; or dotted with tallow to present a piebald or bird’s-eye appearance. These are designed for the junior boys who have not begun to participate in the pleasures of “a bended bow and quiver full of arrows;”--a flaming torch, or a heart and a true-lover’s knot. These plainer specimens are seldom promoted to the dignity of the ale-glass or the corner-cupboard. Instead of being handed down to posterity they are hurled to swift destruction. In the process of dying they are boiled pretty hard--so as to prevent inconvenience if crushed in the hand or the pocket. But the strength of the shell constitutes the chief glory of a pace egg, whose owner aspires only to the conquest of a rival youth. Holding his egg in his hand he challenges a companion to give blow for blow. One of the eggs is sure to be broken, and its shattered remains are the spoil of the conqueror: who is instantly invested with the title of “a cock of one, two, three,” &c. in proportion as it may have fractured his antagonist’s eggs in the conflict. A successful egg, in a contest with one which had previously gained honours, adds to its number the reckoning of its vanquished foe. An egg which is a “cock” of ten or a dozen, is frequently challenged. A modern pugilist would call this a set-to for the championship. Such on the borders of the Solway Frith were the youthful amusements of Easter Monday.

Your very proper precaution, which requires the names of correspondents who transmit notices of local customs, is complied with by the addition of my name and address below. In publication I prefer to appear only as your constant reader.

J. B.

A notice below, the editor hopes will be read and taken by the reader, for whose advantage it is introduced, in good part.[68]

Pasch eggs are to be found at Easter in different parts of the kingdom. A Liverpool gentleman informs the editor, that in that town and neighbourhood they are still common, and called paste eggs. One of his children brought to him a paste egg at Easter, 1824, beautifully mottled with brown. It had been purposely prepared for the child by the servant, by being boiled hard within the coat of an onion, which imparted to the shell the admired colour. Hard boiling is a chief requisite in preparing the pasch egg. In some parts they are variously coloured with the juices of different herbs, and played with by boys, who roll them on the grass, or toss them up for balls. Their more elegant preparation is already described by our obliging correspondent, J. B.

The terms pace, paste, or pasch, are derived from paschal, which is a name given to Easter from its being the paschal season. Four hundred eggs were bought for eighteen-pence in the time of Edward I., as appears by a royal roll in the tower; from whence it also appears they were purchased for the purpose of being boiled and stained, or covered with leaf gold, and afterwards distributed to the royal household at Easter. They were formerly consecrated, and the ritual of pope Paul V. for the use of England, Scotland, and Ireland, contains the form of consecration.[69] On Easter eve and Easter day, the heads of families sent to the church large chargers, filled with the hard boiled eggs, and there the “creature of eggs” became sacred by virtue of holy water, crossing, and so on.

Ball. Bacon. Tansy Puddings.

Eating of tansy pudding is another custom at Easter derived from the Romish church. Tansy symbolized the bitter herbs used by the Jews at their paschal; but that the people might show a proper abhorrence of Jews, they ate from a gammon of bacon at Easter, as many still do in several country places, at this season, without knowing from whence this practice is derived. Then we have Easter ball-play, another ecclesiastical device, the meaning of which cannot be quite so clearly traced; but it is certain that the Romish clergy abroad played at ball in the church, as part of the service; and we find an archbishop joining in the sport. “A ball, not of size to be grasped by one hand only, being given out at Easter, the dean and his representatives began an antiphone, suited to Easter-day; then taking the ball in his left hand, he commenced a dance to the tune of the antiphone, the others dancing round hand in hand. At intervals, the ball was bandied or passed to each of the choristers. The organ played according to the dance and sport. The dancing and antiphone being concluded, the choir went to take refreshment. It was the privilege of the lord, or his locum tenens, to throw the ball; even the archbishop did it.”[70] Whether the dignified clergy had this amusement in the English churches is not authenticated; but it seems that “boys used to claim hard eggs, or small money, at Easter, in exchange for the ball-play before mentioned.”[71] Brand cites the mention of a lay amusement at this season, wherein both tansy and ball-play is referred to.

Stool-ball.

At stool-ball, Lucia, let us play, For sugar, cakes, or wine. Or for a tansy let us pay, The loss be thine or mine. If thou, my dear, a winner be At trundling of the ball, The wager thou shall have, and me And my misfortunes all.

1679.

Also, from “Poor Robin’s Almanack” for 1677, this Easter verse, denoting the sport at that season:

Young men and maids, Now very brisk, At barley-break and Stool-ball frisk.

A ball custom now prevails annually at Bury St. Edmund’s, Suffolk. On Shrove Tuesday, Easter Monday, and the Whitsuntide festivals, twelve old women side off for a game at trap-and-ball, which is kept up with the greatest spirit and vigour until sunset. One old lady, named Gill, upwards of sixty years of age, has been celebrated as the “mistress of the sport” for a number of years past; and it affords much of the good old humour to flow round, whilst the merry combatants dexterously hurl the giddy ball to and fro. Afterwards they retire to their homes, where

“Voice, fiddle, or flute, No longer is mute,”

and close the day with apportioned mirth and merriment.[72]

Corporations formerly went forth to play at ball at Easter. Both then and at Whitsuntide, the mayor, aldermen, and sheriff of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, with a great number of the burgesses, went yearly to the Forth, or little mall of the town, with the mace, sword, and cap of maintenance, carried before them, and patronised the playing at hand-ball, dancing, and other amusements, and sometimes joined in the ball-play, and at others joined hands with the ladies.

There is a Cheshire proverb, “When the daughter is stolen, shut the Pepper-gate.” This is founded on the fact that the mayor of Chester had his daughter stolen as she was playing at ball with other maidens in Pepper-street; the young man who carried her off, came through the Pepper-gate, and the mayor wisely ordered the gate to be shut up:[73] agreeable to the old saying, and present custom agreeable thereto, “When the steed’s stolen, shut the stable-door.” Hereafter it will be seen that persons quite as dignified and magisterial as mayors and aldermen, could compass a holiday’s sport and a merry-go-round, as well as their more humble fellow subjects.

Clipping the Church at Easter.

L. S., a Warwickshire correspondent, communicates this Easter custom to the Every-Day Book:

“When I was a child, as sure as Easter Monday came, I was taken ‘to see the children clip the churches.’ This ceremony was performed, amid crowds of people and shouts of joy, by the children of the different charity-schools, who at a certain hour flocked together for the purpose. The first comers placed themselves hand in hand with their backs against the church, and were joined by their companions, who gradually increased in number, till at last the chain was of sufficient length completely to surround the sacred edifice. As soon as the hand of the last of the train had grasped that of the first, the party broke up, and walked in procession to the other church, (for in those days Birmingham boasted but of two,) where the ceremony was repeated.”

Old Easter Customs in Church.

In the celebration of this festival, the Romish church amused our forefathers by theatrical representations, and extraordinary dramatic worship, with appropriate scenery, machinery, dresses, and decorations. The exhibitions at Durham appear to have been conducted with great effect. In that cathedral, over our lady of Bolton’s altar, there was a marvellous, lively, and beautiful image of the picture of our lady, called the lady of Bolton, which picture was made to open with gimmes, (or linked fastenings,) from the breast downward; and within the said image was wrought and pictured the image of our saviour marvellously finely gilt, holding up his hands, and betwixt his hands was a large fair crucifix of Christ, all of gold; the which crucifix was ordained to be taken forth every Good Friday, and every man did creep unto it that was in the church at that time; and afterwards it was hung up again within the said image. Every principal day the said image of our lady of Bolton, was opened, that every man might see pictured within her, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, most curiously and finely gilt; and both the sides within her were very finely varnished with green varnish, and flowers of gold, which was a goodly sight for all the beholders thereof. On Good Friday, there was marvellous solemn service, in which service time, after the Passion was sung, two of the ancient monks took a goodly large crucifix, all of gold, of the picture of our saviour Christ nailed upon the cross, laying it upon a velvet cushion, having St. Cuthbert’s arms upon it, all embroidered with gold, bringing it betwixt them upon the cushion to the lowest steps in the choir, and there betwixt them did hold the said picture of our saviour, sitting on either side of it. And then one of the said monks did rise, and went a pretty space from it, and setting himself upon his knees with his shoes put off, very reverently he crept upon his knees unto the said cross, and most reverently did kiss it; and after him the other monk did so likewise; and then they sate down on either side of the said cross, holding it betwixt them. Afterward, the prior came forth of his stall, and did sit him down upon his knees with his shoes off in like sort, and did creep also unto the said cross, and all the monks after him did creep one after another in the same manner and order; in the mean time, the whole choir singing a hymn. The service being ended, the said two monks carried the cross to the sepulchre with great reverence.[74]

The sepulchre was erected in the church near the altar, to represent the tomb wherein the body of Christ was laid for burial. At this tomb there was a grand performance on Easter-day. In some churches it was ordained, that Mary Magdalen, Mary of Bethany, and Mary of Naim, should be represented by three deacons clothed in dalmaticks and amesses, with their heads in the manner of women, and holding a vase in their hands. These performers came through the middle of the choir, and hastening towards the sepulchre, with downcast looks, said together this verse, “Who will remove the stone for us?” Upon this a boy, clothed like an angel, in albs, and holding a wheat ear in his hand, before the sepulchre, said, “Whom do you seek in the sepulchre?” The Maries answered, “Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified.” The boy-angel answered, “He is not here, but is risen;” and pointed to the place with his finger. The boy-angel departed very quickly, and two priests in tunics, sitting without the sepulchre, said, “Woman, whom do ye mourn for? Whom do ye seek?” The middle one of the women said, “Sir, if you have taken him away, say so.” The priest, showing the cross, said, “They have taken away the Lord.” The two sitting priests said, “Whom do ye seek, women?” The Maries, kissing the place, afterwards went from the sepulchre. In the mean time a priest, in the character of Christ, in an alb, with a stole, holding a cross, met them on the left horn of the altar, and said, “Mary!” Upon hearing this, the mock Mary threw herself at his feet, and, with a loud voice, cried Cabboin. The priest representing Christ replied, nodding, “Noli me tangere,” touch me not. This being finished, he again appeared at the right horn of the altar, and said to them as they passed before the altar, “Hail! do not fear.” This being finished, he concealed himself; and the women-priests, as though joyful at hearing this, bowed to the altar, and turning to the choir, sung “Alleluia, the Lord is risen.” This was the signal for the bishop or priest before the altar, with the censer, to begin and sing aloud, Te Deum.[75]

The making of the sepulchre was a practice founded upon ancient tradition, that the second coming of Christ would be on Easter-eve; and sepulchre-making, and watching it, remained in England till the reformation. Its ceremonies varied in different places. In the abbey church of Durham it was part of the service upon Easter-day, betwixt three and four o’clock in the morning, for two of the eldest monks of the quire to come to the sepulchre, set up upon Good Friday after the Passion, which being covered with red velvet, and embroidered with gold, these monks, with a pair of silver censers, censed the sepulchre on their knees. Then both rising, went to the sepulchre, out of which they took a marvellous beautiful image of the resurrection, with a cross in the hand of the image of Christ, in the breast whereof was inclosed, in bright crystal, the host, so as to be conspicuous to the beholders. Then, after the elevation of the said picture, it was carried by the said two monks, upon a velvet embroidered cushion, the monks singing the anthem of Christus resurgens. They then brought it to the high altar, setting it on the midst thereof, and the two monks kneeling before the altar, censed it all the time that the rest of the quire were singing the anthem, which being ended, the two monks took up the cushion and picture from the altar, supporting it betwixt them, and proceeded in procession from the high altar to the south quire door, where there were four ancient gentlemen belonging to the quire, appointed to attend their coming, holding up a rich canopy of purple velvet, tasselled round about with red silk and gold fringe; and then the canopy was borne by these “ancient gentlemen,” over the said images with the host carried by the two monks round about the church, the whole quire following, with torches and great store of other lights; all singing, rejoicing, and praying, till they came to the high altar again; upon which they placed the said image, there to remain till Ascension-day, when another ceremony was used.

In Brand’s “Antiquities,” and other works, there are many items of expenses from the accounts of different church-books for making the sepulchre for this Easter ceremony. The old Register Book of the brethren of the Holy Trinity of St. Botolph without Aldersgate, now in the possession of the editor of the Every-Day Book, contains the following entries concerning the sepulchre in that church:--“Item, to the wexchaundeler, for makyng of the Sepulcre light iii times, and of other dyvers lights that longyn to the trynite, in dyvers places in the chirche, lvii^{s}. 10^{d}.” In An. 17 Henry VI. there is another “Item, for xiii tapers unto the lyght about the Sepulcre, agenst the ffeste of Estern, weying lxxviii lb. of the wich was wasted xxii lb.” &c. In Ann. 21 & 22 K. Henry VI. the fraternity paid for wax and for lighting of the sepulchre “both yers, xx^{s}. viii^{d}.” and they gathered in those years for their sepulchre light, xlv^{s}. ix^{d}. This gathering was from the people who were present at the representation; and when the value of money at that time is considered, and also that on the same day every church in London had a sepulchre, each more or less attractive, the sum will not be regarded as despicable.

The only theatres for the people were churches, and the monks were actors; accordingly, at Easter, plays were frequently got up for popular amusement. Brand cites from the churchwardens’ accounts of Reading, set forth in Coate’s history of that town, several items of different sums paid for nails for the sepulchre; “for rosyn to the Resurrection play;” for setting up of poles for the scaffold whereon the plays were performed; for making “a Judas;” for the writing of the plays themselves; and for other expenses attending the “getting up” of the representations. Though the subjects exhibited were connected with the incidents commemorated by the festival, yet the most splendid shows must have been in those churches which performed the resurrection at the sepulchre with a full dramatis personæ of monks, in dresses according to the characters they assumed.

Mr. Fosbroke gives the “properties” of the sepulchre show belonging to St. Mary Redcliff’s church at Bristol, from an original MS. in his possession formerly belonging to Chatterton, viz. “Memorandum:--That master Cannings hath delivered, the 4th day of July, in the year of our Lord 1470, to master Nicholas Pelles, vicar of Redclift, Moses Conterin, Philip Berthelmew, and John Brown, procurators of Redclift beforesaid, a new Sepulchre, well guilt with fine gold, and a civer thereto; an image of God Almighty rising out of the same Sepulchre, with all the ordinance that longeth thereto; that is to say, a lath made of timber and iron work thereto. Item, hereto longeth Heven, made of timber and stained cloths. Item, Hell made of timber and iron work thereto, with Devils the number of thirteen. Item, four knights armed, keeping the Sepulchre, with their weapons in their hands; that is to say, two spears, two axes, with two shields. Item, four pair of Angel’s wings, for four Angels, made of timber, and well-painted. Item, the Fadre, the crown and visage, the ball with a cross upon it, well gilt with fine gold. Item, the Holy Ghost coming out of Heven into the Sepulchre. Item, longeth to the four Angels, four Perukes.” The lights at the sepulchre shows, and at Easter, were of themselves a most attractive part of the Easter spectacle. The paschal or great Easter taper at Westminster Abbey was three hundred pounds’ weight. Sometimes a large wax light called a serpent was used; its name was derived from its spiral form, it being wound round a rod. To light it, fire was struck from a flint consecrated by the abbot. The paschal in Durham cathedral was square wax, and reached to within a man’s length of the roof, from whence this waxen enormity was lighted by “a fine convenience.” From this superior light all others were taken. Every taper in the church was purposely extinguished in order that this might supply a fresh stock of consecrated light, till at the same season in the next year a similar parent torch was prepared.[76]

EASTER IN LONDON.

Easter Monday and Tuesday, and Greenwich fair, are renowned as “holidays” throughout most manufactories and trades conducted in the metropolis. On Monday, Greenwich fair commences. The chief attraction to this spot is the park, wherein stands the Royal Observatory on a hill, adown which it is the delight of boys and girls to pull each other till they are wearied. Frequently of late this place has been a scene of rude disorder. But it is still visited by thousands and tens of thousands from London and the vicinity; the lowest join in the hill sports; others regale in the public-houses; and many are mere spectators, of what may be called the humours of the day.

On Easter Monday, at the very dawn of day, the avenues from all parts towards Greenwich give sign of the first London festival in the year. Working men and their wives; ’prentices and their sweethearts; blackguards and bullies; make their way to this fair. Pickpockets and their female companions go later. The greater part of the sojourners are on foot, but the vehicles for conveyance are innumerable. The regular and irregular stages are, of course, full inside and outside. Hackney-coaches are equally well filled; gigs carry three, not including the driver; and there are countless private chaise-carts, public pony-chaises, and open accommodations. Intermingled with these, town-carts, usually employed in carrying goods, are now fitted up, with boards for seats; hereon are seated men, women, and children, till the complement is complete, which is seldom deemed the case till the horses are overloaded. Now and then passes, like “some huge admiral,” a full-sized coal-waggon, laden with coal-heavers and their wives, and shadowed by spreading boughs from every tree that spreads a bough; these solace themselves with draughts of beer from a barrel aboard, and derive amusement from criticising walkers, and passengers in vehicles passing their own, which is of unsurpassing size. The six-mile journey of one of these machines is sometimes prolonged from “dewy morn” till noon. It stops to let its occupants see all that is to be seen on its passage; such as what are called the “Gooseberry fairs,” by the wayside, whereat heats are run upon half-killed horses, or spare and patient donkeys. Here are the bewitching sounds to many a boy’s ears of “A halfpenny ride O!” “A halfpenny ride O!”; upon that sum “first had and obtained,” the immediately bestrided urchin has full right to “work and labour” the bit of life he bestraddles, for the full space or distance of fifty yards, there and back; the returning fifty being done within half time of the first. Then there is “pricking in the belt,” an old exposed and still practised fraud. Besides this, there are numberless invitations to take “a shy for a halfpenny,” at a “bacca box, full o’ ha’pence,” standing on a stick stuck upright in the earth at a reasonable distance for experienced throwers to hit, and therefore win, but which is a mine of wealth to the costermonger proprietor, from the number of unskilled adventurers.

Greenwich fair, of itself, is nothing; the congregated throngs are every thing, and fill every place. The hill of the Observatory, and two or three other eminences in the park, are the chief resort of the less experienced and the vicious. But these soon tire, and group after group succeeds till evening. Before then the more prudent visitors have retired to some of the numerous houses in the vicinage of the park, whereon is written, “Boiling water here,” or “Tea and Coffee,” and where they take such refreshment as these places and their own bundles afford, preparatory to their toil home after their pleasure.

At nightfall, “Life in London,” as it is called, is found at Greenwich. Every room in every public-house is fully occupied by drinkers, smokers, singers and dancers, and the “balls” are kept up during the greater part of the night. The way to town is now an indescribable scene. The vehicles congregated by the visitors to the fair throughout the day resume their motion, and the living reflux on the road is dense to uneasiness. Of all sights the most miserable is that of the poor broken-down horse, who having been urged three times to and from Greenwich with a load thither of pleasure-seekers at sixpence per head, is now unable to return, for the fourth time, with a full load back, though whipped and lifted, and lifted and whipped, by a reasoning driver, who declares “the hoss did it last fair, and why shouldn’t he do it again.” The open windows of every house for refreshment on the road, and clouds of tobacco-smoke therefrom, declare the full stowage of each apartment, while jinglings of the bells, and calls “louder and louder yet,” speak wants and wishes to waiters, who disobey the instructions of the constituent bodies that sent them to the bar. Now from the wayside booths fly out corks that let forth “pop” and “ginger-beer,” and little party-coloured lamps give something of a joyous air to appearances that fatigue and disgust. Overwearied children cry before they have walked to the halfway house; women with infants in their arms pull along their tipsey well-beloveds, others endeavour to wrangle or drag them out of drinking rooms, and, until long after midnight, the Greenwich road does not cease to disgorge incongruities only to be rivalled by the figures and exhibitions in Dutch and Flemish prints.

* * * * *

While this turmoil, commonly called pleasure-taking, is going on, there is another order of persons to whom Easter affords real recreation. Not less inclined to unbend than the frequenters of Greenwich, they seek and find a mode of spending the holiday-time more rationally, more economically, and more advantageously to themselves and their families. With their partners and offspring they ride to some of the many pleasant villages beyond the suburbs of London, out of the reach of the harm and strife incident to mixing with noisy crowds. Here the contented groups are joined by relations or friends, who have appointed to meet them, in the quiet lanes or sunny fields of these delightful retreats. When requisite, they recruit from well-stored junket baskets, carried in turn; and after calmly passing several hours in walking and sauntering through the open balmy air of a spring-day, they sometimes close it by making a good comfortable tea-party at a respectable house on their way to town. Then a cheerful glass is ordered, each joins in merry conversation, or some one suspected of a singing face justifies the suspicion, and “the jocund song goes round,” till, the fathers being reminded by the mothers, more than once possibly, that “it’s getting late,” they rise refreshed and happy, and go home. Such an assembly is composed of honest and industrious individuals, whose feelings and expressions are somewhat, perhaps, represented below.

INDEPENDENT MEN

A HOLIDAY SONG.

We’re independent men, with wives, and sweethearts, by our side, We’ve hearts at rest, with health we’re bless’d, and, being Easter tide, We make our spring-time holiday, and take a bit of pleasure, And gay as May, drive care away, and give to mirth our leisure.

It’s for our good, that thus, my boys, we pass the hours that stray, We’ll have our frisk, without the risk of squabble or a fray; Let each enjoy his pastime so, that, without fear or sorrow, When all his fun is cut and run, he may enjoy to-morrow.

To-morrow may we happier be for happiness to-day, That child or man, no mortal can, or shall, have it to say, That we have lost both cash and time, and been of sense bereft, For what we’ve spent we don’t relent, we’ve time and money left.

And we will husband both, my boys, and husband too our wives; May sweethearts bold, before they’re old, be happy for their lives; For good girls make good wives, my boys, and good wives make men better, When men are just, and scorning trust, each man is no man’s debtor.

Then at this welcome season, boys, let’s welcome thus each other, Each kind to each, shake hands with each, each be to each a brother; Next Easter holiday may each again see flowers springing, And hear birds sing, and sing himself, while merry bells are ringing.

*

The clear open weather during the Easter holidays in 1825, drew forth a greater number of London holiday keepers than the same season of many preceding years. They were enabled to indulge by the full employment in most branches of trade and manufacture; and if the period was spent not less merrily, it was enjoyed more rationally and with less excess than before was customary. Greenwich, though crowded, was not so abundant of boisterous rudeness. “It is almost the only one of the popular amusements that remains: Stepney, Hampstead, Westend, and Peckham fairs have been crushed by the police, that ‘stern, rugged nurse’ of national morality; and although Greenwich fair continues, it is any thing but what it used to be. Greenwich, however, will always have a charm: the fine park remains--trees, glades, turf, and the view from the observatory, one of the noblest in the world--before you the towers of these palaces built for a monarch’s residence, now ennobled into a refuge from life’s storms for the gallant defenders of their country, after their long and toilsome pilgrimage--then the noble river; and in the distance, amidst the din and smoke, appears the ‘mighty heart’ of this mighty empire; these are views worth purchasing at the expense of being obliged to visit Greenwich fair in this day of its decline. ‘Punch’ and his ‘better half’ seemed to be the presiding deities in the fair, so little of merriment was there to be found. In the park, however, the scene was different; it was nearly filled with persons of all ages: the young came there for amusement, to see and be seen--the old to pay their customary annual visit. On the hills was the usual array of telescopes; there were also many races, and many sovereigns in the course of the day changed hands on the event of them; but one race in particular deserves remark, not that there was any thing in the character, appearance, or speed of the competitors, to distinguish them from the herd of others; the circumstances in it that afforded amusement was the dishonesty of the stakeholder, who, as the parties had just reached the goal, scampered off with the stakes, amidst the shouts of the by-standers, and the ill-concealed chagrin of the two gentlemen who had foolishly committed their money to the hands of a stranger.”[77]

According to annual custom on Easter Monday, the minor theatres opened on that day for the season, and were thronged, as usual, by spectators of novelties, which the Amphitheatre, the Surrey theatre, Sadler’s-wells, and other places of dramatic entertainment, constantly get up for the holiday-folks. The scene of attraction was much extended, by amusements long before announced at distant suburbs. At half-past five on Monday afternoon, Mr. Green accompanied by one of his brothers, ascended in a balloon from the Eagle Tavern, the site of the still remembered “Shepherd and Shepherdess,” in the City-road. “The atmosphere being extremely calm, and the sun shining brightly, the machine, after it had ascended to a moderate height, seemed to hang over the city for nearly half an hour, presenting a beautiful appearance, as its sides glistened with the beams of that orb, towards which it appeared to be conveying two of the inhabitants of a different planet.” It descended near Ewell in Surrey. At a distance of ten miles from this spot, Mr. Graham, another aërial navigator, let off another balloon from the Star and Garter Tavern, near Kew-bridge. “During the preparations, the gardens began to fill with a motley company of farmers’ families, and tradesmen from the neighbourhood, together with a large portion of city folks, and a small sprinkle of some young people of a better dressed order. The fineness of the day gave a peculiar interest to the scene, which throughout was of a very lively description. Parties of ladies, sweeping the ‘green sward,’ their gay dresses, laughing eyes, and the cloudless sky, made every thing look gay. Outside, it was a multitude, as far as the eye could see on one side. The place had the appearance of a fair, booths and stalls for refreshments being spread out, as upon these recreative occasions. Carts, drays, coaches, and every thing which could enable persons the better to overlook the gardens, were put into eager requisition, and every foot of resting-room upon Kew-bridge had found an anxious and curious occupant. In the mean time, fresh arrivals were taking place from all directions, but the clouds of dust which marked the line of the London-road, in particular, denoted at once the eagerness and numbers of the new comers. A glimpse in that direction showed the pedestrians, half roasted with the sun, and half suffocated with the dust, still keeping on their way towards the favoured spot. About five o’clock, Mr. Graham having seated himself in the car of his vehicle, gave the signal for committing the machine to its fate. She swung in the wind for a moment, but suddenly righting, shot up in a directly perpendicular course, amidst the stunning shout of the assembled multitude, Mr. Graham waving the flags and responding to their cheers. Nothing could be more beautiful than the appearance of the balloon at the distance of about a mile from the earth, for from reflecting back the rays of the sun, it appeared a solid body of gold suspended in the air. It continued in sight nearly an hour and a half; and the crowd, whose curiosity had brought them together, had not entirely dispersed from the gardens before seven o’clock. On the way home they were gratified with the sight of Mr. Green’s balloon, which was seen distinctly for a considerable time along the Hammersmith-road. The shadows of evening were lengthening, and

------ midst falling dew, While glow the Heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths it did pursue Its solitary way.”[78]

SPITAL SERMONS.

In London, on Easter Monday and Tuesday, the Spital Sermons are preached. “On Easter Monday, the boys of Christ’s Hospital walk in procession, accompanied by the masters and steward, to the Royal Exchange, from whence they proceed to the Mansion-house, where they are joined by the lord mayor, the lady mayoress, the sheriffs, aldermen, recorder, chamberlain, town clerk, and other city officers, with their ladies. From thence the cavalcade proceeds to Christ church, where the Spital Sermon is preached, always by one of the bishops, and an anthem sung by the children. His lordship afterwards returns to the Mansion-house, where a grand civic entertainment is prepared, which is followed by an elegant ball in the evening.

On Easter Tuesday, the boys again walk in procession to the Mansion-house, but, instead of the masters, they are accompanied by the matron and nurses. On Monday, they walk in the order of the schools, each master being at the head of the school over which he presides; and the boys in the mathematical school carry their various instruments. On Tuesday, they walk in the order of the different wards, the nurses walking at the head of the boys under her immediate care. On their arrival at the Mansion-house, they have the honour of being presented individually to the lord mayor, who gives to each boy a new sixpence, a glass of wine, and two buns. His lordship afterwards accompanies them to Christ church, where the service is the same as on Monday. The sermon is on Tuesday usually preached by his lordship’s chaplain.”[79]

The most celebrated Spital Sermon of our times, was that preached by the late Dr. Samuel Parr, upon Easter Tuesday, 1800, against “the eager desire of paradox; the habit of contemplating a favourite topic in one distinct and vivid point of view, while it is disregarded under all others; a fondness for simplicity on subjects too complicated in their inward structure on their external relations, to be reduced to any single and uniform principle;” and against certain speculations on “the motives by which we are impelled to do good to our fellow creatures, and adjusting the extent to which we are capable of doing it.” This sermon induced great controversy, and much misrepresentation. Few of those who condemned it, read it; and many justified their ignorance of what they detracted, by pretending they could not waste their time upon a volume of theology. This excuse was in reference to its having been printed in quarto, though the sermon itself consists of only about four and twenty pages. The notes are illustrations of a discourse more highly intellectual than most of those who live have heard or read.[80]

The Spital Sermon derives its name from the priory and hospital of “our blessed Lady, St. Mary Spital,” situated on the east side of Bishopsgate-street, with fields in the rear, which now form the suburb, called Spitalfields. This hospital, founded in 1197, had a large churchyard with a pulpit cross, from whence it was an ancient custom on Easter Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, for sermons to be preached on the Resurrection before the lord mayor, aldermen, sheriffs, and others who sat in a house of two stories for that purpose; the bishop of London and other prelates being above them. In 1594, the pulpit was taken down and a new one set up, and a large house for the governors and children of Christ’s Hospital to sit in.[81] In April 1559, queen Elizabeth came in great state from St. Mary Spital, attended by a thousand men in harness, with shirts of mail and croslets, and morris pikes, and ten great pieces carried through London unto the court, with drums, flutes, and trumpets sounding, and two morris dancers, and two white bears in a cart.[82] On Easter Monday, 1617, king James I. having gone to Scotland, the archbishop of Canterbury, the lord keeper Bacon, the bishop of London, and certain other lords of the court and privy counsellors attended the Spital Sermon, with sir John Lemman, the lord mayor, and aldermen; and afterwards rode home and dined with the lord mayor at his house near Billingsgate.[83] The hospital itself was dissolved under Henry VIII.; the pulpit was broken down during the troubles of Charles I.; and after the restoration, the sermons denominated Spital Sermons were preached at St. Bride’s church, Fleet-street, on the three usual days. A writer of the last century[84] speaks of “a room being crammed as full of company, as St. Bride’s church upon the singing a Spittle psalm at Easter, or an anthem on Cicelia’s day,” but within the last thirty years the Spital Sermons have been removed to Christ church, Newgate-street, where they are attended by the lord mayor, the aldermen, and the governors of Christ’s, St. Bartholomew’s, St. Thomas’s, Bridewell, and Bethlem Hospitals; after the sermon, it is the usage to read a report of the number of children, and other persons maintained and relieved in these establishments. In 1825, the Spital Sermon on Easter Monday was preached by the bishop of Gloucester, and the psalm sung by the children of Christ’s Hospital was composed by the rev. Arthur William Trollope, D. D., head classical master. It is customary for the prelate on this occasion, to dine with the lord mayor, sheriffs, and aldermen at the Mansion-house. Hereafter there will be mention of similar invitations to the dignified clergy, when they discourse before the civic authorities. In 1766, bishop Warburton having preached before the corporation, dined with the lord mayor, and was somewhat facetious: “Whether,” says Warburton, “I made them wiser than ordinary at Bow (church,) I cannot tell. I certainly made them merrier than ordinary at the Mansion-house; where we were magnificently treated. The lord mayor told me--‘The common council were much obliged to me, for that this was the first time he ever heard them prayed for;’ I said, ‘I considered them as a body who much needed the prayers of the church.’”[85]

An Easter Tale.

Under this title a provincial paper gives the following detail:--In Roman catholic countries it is a very ancient custom for the preacher to divert his congregation in due season with what is termed a Fabula Paschalis, an Easter Tale, which was becomingly received by the auditors with peals of Easter laughter. During Lent the good people had mortified themselves, and prayed so much, that at length they began to be rather discontented and ill-tempered; so that the clergy deemed it necessary to make a little fun from the pulpit for them, and thus give as it were the first impulse towards the revival of mirth and cheerfulness. This practice lasted till the 17th and in many places till the 18th century. Here follows a specimen of one of these tales, extracted from a truly curious volume, the title of which may be thus rendered:--Moral and Religious Journey to Bethlem: consisting of various Sermons for the safe guidance of all strayed, converted, and misled souls, by the Rev. Father ATTANASY, of Dilling. “Christ our Lord was journeying with St. Peter, and had passed through many countries. One day he came to a place where there was no inn, and entered the house of a blacksmith. This man had a wife, who paid the utmost respect to strangers, and treated them with the best that her house would afford. When they were about to depart, our Lord and St. Peter wished her all that was good, and heaven into the bargain. Said the woman, ‘Ah! if I do but go to heaven, I care for nothing else.’--‘Doubt not,’ said St. Peter, ‘for it would be contrary to scripture if thou shouldest not go to heaven. Let what will happen, thou must go thither. Open thy mouth. Did I not say so? Why, thou canst not be sent to hell, where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth, for thou hast not a tooth left in thy head. Thou art safe enough; be of good cheer.’ Who was so overjoyed as the good woman? Without doubt, she took another cup on the strength of this assurance. But our Lord was desirous to testify his thanks to the man also, and promised to grant him four wishes. ‘Well,’ said the smith, ‘I am heartily obliged to you, and wish that if any one climbs up the pear-tree behind my house, he may not be able to get down again without my leave.’ This grieved St. Peter not a little, for he thought that the smith ought rather to have wished for the kingdom of heaven; but our Lord, with his wonted kindness, granted his petition. The smith’s next wish was, that if any one sat down upon his anvil, he might not be able to rise without his permission; and the third, that if any one crept into his old flue, he might not have power to get out without his consent. St. Peter said, ‘Friend smith, beware what thou dost. These are all wishes that can bring thee no advantage; be wise, and let the remaining one be for everlasting life with the blessed in heaven.’ The smith was not to be put out of his way, and thus proceeded: ‘My fourth wish is, that my green cap may belong to me for ever and that whenever I sit down upon it, no power or force may be able to drive me away.’ This also received the fiat. Thereupon our Lord went his way with Peter, and the smith lived some years longer with his old woman. At the end of this time grim death appeared, and summoned him to the other world. ‘Stop a moment,’ said the smith; ‘let me just put on a clean shirt, meanwhile you may pick some of the pears on yonder tree.’ Death climbed up the tree; but he could not get down again; he was forced to submit to the smith’s terms and promised him a respite of twenty years before he returned. When the twenty years were expired, he again appeared, and commanded him in the name of the Lord and St. Peter to go along with him. Said the smith, ‘I know Peter too. Sit down a little on my anvil, for thou must be tired; I will just drink a cup to cheer me, and take leave of my old woman, and be with thee presently.’ But death could not rise again from his seat, and was obliged to promise the smith another delay of twenty years. When these had elapsed, the devil came, and would fain have dragged the smith away by force. ‘Holla, fellow!’ said the latter; ‘that won’t do. I have other letters, and whiter than thou, with thy black carta-bianca. But if thou art such a conjuror as to imagine that thou hast any power over me, let us see if thou canst get into this old rusty flue.’ No sooner said than the devil slipped into the flue. The smith and his men put the flue into the fire, then carried it to the anvil, and hammered away at the old-one most unmercifully. He howled, and begged and prayed; and at last promised that he would have nothing to do with the smith to all eternity, if he would but let him go. At length the smith’s guardian-angel made his appearance. The business was now serious. He was obliged to go; the angel conducted him to hell. The devil, whom he had so terribly belaboured, was just then attending the gate; he looked out at the little window, but quickly shut it again, and would have nothing to do with the smith. The angel then conducted him to the gate of heaven. St. Peter refused to admit him. ‘Let me just peep in,’ said the smith, ‘that I may see how it looks within there.’ No sooner was the wicket opened than the smith threw in his cap, and said, ‘Thou knowest it is my property, I must go and fetch it.’ Then slipping past, he clapped himself down upon it, and said, ‘Now I am sitting on my own property; I should like to see who dares drive me away from it.’ So the smith got into heaven at last.”[86]

There is a remarkable notice by Dr. E. D. Clarke, the traveller, respecting a custom in the Greek islands. He says, “A circumstance occurs annually at Rhodes which deserves the attention of the literary traveller: it is the ceremony of carrying Silenus in procession at Easter. A troop of boys, crowned with garlands, draw along, in a car, a fat old man, attended with great pomp. I unfortunately missed bearing testimony to this remarkable example, among many others which I have witnessed, of the existence of pagan rites in popular superstitions. I was informed of the fact by Mr. Spurring, a naval architect, who resided at Rhodes, and Mr. Cope, a commissary belonging to the British army; both of whom had seen the procession. The same ceremony also takes place in the island of Scio.” It is only necessary here to mention the custom, without adverting to its probable origin. According to ancient fable, Silenus was son to Pan, the god of shepherds and huntsmen; other accounts represent him as the son of Mercury, and foster-father of Bacchus. He is usually described as a tipsey old wine-bibber; and one story of him is, that having lost his way in his cups, and being found by some peasants, they brought him to king Midas, who restored him “to the jolly god” Bacchus, and that Bacchus, grateful for the favour, conferred on Midas the power of turning whatever he touched into gold. Others say that Silenus was a grave philosopher, and Bacchus an enterprising young hero, a sort of Telemachus, who took Silenus for his Mentor, and adopted his wise counsels. The engraving is after an etching by Worlidge, from a sardonyx gem in the possession of the duke of Devonshire.

[67] Communicated to the Every-Day Book by Mr. T. A----.

[68] Mr. J. B----, a native of Maryport in Cumberland, who obligingly communicates the above information respecting pasch eggs in that county, has ensured the adoption of his letter by subscribing his name and address.

COMMUNICATIONS have been received in great numbers from anonymous correspondents, but the information many of them contain, however interesting or true, can never interest the readers of the Every-Day Book, for this reason, that information will not on any account be inserted, which is not verified by the contributor’s name and residence: as every contributor may have his name inserted or not, as he pleases, so no one can object to satisfy the editor, that the facts communicated are from responsible sources. The precaution is necessary; and it may be proper to add, that all contributions with quotations from an “old book,” “an excellent author,” “a work of authority,” and so forth, are useless, when contributors forget to mention names and title-pages.

This is the first time that a notice to correspondents has appeared within the columns of the Every-Day Book, and it is designed to be the last. Such intimations cannot be inserted without injury to the uniform appearance of the work; but they are printed on the wrappers of the Monthly Parts.

COMMUNICATIONS of local usages or customs, or other useful and agreeable particulars, are earnestly and respectfully solicited; and extracts, or permission to extract, from scarce works and original manuscripts, will be highly esteemed. The favours of correspondents with real names and addresses are obviously the most valuable, and will receive marked regard.

W. HONE.

45, Ludgate-hill,

31st March, 1825.

[69] Brand.

[70] Fosbroke’s Brit. Monach. from Du Cange.

[71] Ibid.

[72] Communicated to the Every-Day Book by S. R.

[73] Drake’s Shakspeare, from Fuller’s Worthies.

[74] Hone’s Ancient Mysteries described, from Davies’s Rites, &c.

[75] Fosbroke’s Brit. Monach. from Du Cange.

[76] Fosbroke’s Brit. Monach.

[77] British Press.

[78] Morning Herald.

[79] Wilson’s History of Christ’s Hospital.

[80] Archdeacon Butler had been selected by Dr. Parr to pronounce the last appointed words over his remains, and he justified the selection. Dr. Butler’s sermon at the funeral of Dr. Parr, has the high merit of presenting a clear outline of this great man’s character, and from its pages these passages are culled and thrown together. “His learning was the most profound, and the most varied and extensive, of any man of his age. He has left a chasm in the literature of his country, which none of us shall ever see filled up. As a classical scholar he was supreme--deeply versed in history, especially that of his own country; in metaphysics and moral philosophy not to be excelled; in theology he had read more extensively and thought more deeply, than most of those who claim the highest literary fame in that department. He was well read in controversy, though he loved not controversialists; for his benevolent and tolerating spirit was shocked by any thing like rancour among men who believe a gospel of love, and worship a God of love, and yet can let loose the malignant and vindictive passions, in their religious disputes, against each other. In politics his ardent love of freedom, his hatred of oppression, and his invincible spirit, joined to the most disinterested and incorruptible integrity, and the most resolute independence, even in the days of poverty and privation, made him always a prominent and conspicuous character. Caution he despised, it was not a part of his noble and fearless nature. What he thought greatly, he uttered manfully; and such a mighty master of language when speaking or writing on civil and religious liberty, carried away his hearers with the same resistless torrent of eloquence by which himself was swept along.” Such is the testimony to Dr. Parr’s talents, by one “differing from him on many political points, and on some theological questions.” More to the same effect might be adduced on the same competent authority; but, if the preacher, like him of whom he discoursed, “loved his friend well, he loved truth better;” and hence Dr. Butler has honestly and faithfully sketched a few inconsiderable weaknesses, which, to a correct judgment, enlarge the nobility, and heighten the splendour of Dr. Parr’s heart and mind. Undeviating eulogy is praiseless praise.

[81] Stowe.

[82] Maitland.

[83] Stowe.

[84] Ned Ward in his Dancing School.

[85] Letters from a late eminent prelate.

[86] Salisbury Gazette, January 8, 1818.

~April 6.~

OLD LADY-DAY.

St. Sixtus I., Pope, 2d Cent. 120 Persian Martyrs, A. D. 345. St. Celestine, Pope, A. D. 432. St. William, Abbot of Eskille, A. D. 1203. St. Prudentius, Bp. A. D. 861. St. Celsus, in Irish Ceallach Abp. A. D. 1129.

CHRONOLOGY.

1348. Laura de Noves died. She was born in 1304, and is celebrated for having been beloved by Petrarch, and for having returned his passion by indifference. He fostered his love at Vaucluse, a romantic spot, wherein he had nothing to employ him but recollection of her charms, and imagination of her perfections. These he immortalized in sonnets while she lived; Petrarch survived her six and thirty years.

Francis I., who compared a court without ladies to a spring without flowers, caused Laura’s tomb to be opened, and threw verses upon her remains complimentary to her beauty, and the fame she derived from her lover’s praises.

1803. Colonel Montgomery and captain Macnamara quarrelled and fought a duel at Primrose-hill, because their dogs quarrelled and fought in Hyde-park. Captain Macnamara received colonel Montgomery’s ball in the hip, and colonel Montgomery received captain Macnamara’s ball in the heart. This exchange of shots being according to the laws of duelling and projectiles, Colonel Montgomery died on the spot. Captain Macnamara was tried at the Old Bailey, and, as a man of honour, was acquitted by a jury of men of honour. The laws of England and the laws of Christianity only bind honourable men; men of honour govern each other by the superior power of sword and pistol. The humble suicide is buried with ignominy in a cross road, and a finger-post marks his grave for public scorn; the proud and daring duellist reposes in a christian grave beneath marble, proud and daring as himself.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Starch Hyacinth. Hyacinthus racemosus. Dedicated to St. Sixtus I.

~April 7.~

St. Aphraates, 4th Cent. St. Hegesippus, A. D. 180. St. Aibert, A. D. 1140. B. Herman Joseph, A. D. 1226. St. Finan of Keann-Ethich.

CHRONOLOGY.

1520. Raphael d’Urbino died on the anniversary of his birth-day which was in 1483.

1807. Lalande, the astronomer, died at Paris, aged 70.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Wood Anemony. Anemone Nemorosa. Dedicated to St. Aphraates.

~April 8.~

St. Dionysius, Bp. of Corinth, 2d Cent. St. Ædesius, A. D. 306. St. Perpetuus, Bp. A. D. 491. St. Walter, Abbot, A. D. 1099. _B. Albert_, Patriarch of Jerusalem, A. D. 1214.

CHRONOLOGY.

1341. The expression of Petrarch’s passion for Laura, gained him such celebrity, that he had a crown of laurels placed upon his head, in the metropolis of the papacy, amidst cries from the Roman people, “Long live the poet!”

1364. John, king of France, who had been brought prisoner to England by Edward, the Black Prince, in his captivity, died at the Savoy-palace, in the Strand.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Ground Ivy. Glecoma hederacea. Dedicated to St. Dionysius.

~April 9.~

St. Mary of Egypt, A. D. 421. The Massylitan Martyrs in Africa. St. Eupsychius. The Roman Captives, Martyrs in Persia, year of Christ 362, of Sapor 53. St. Waltrude, or Vautrude, commonly called Vaudru, Widow, A. D. 686. St. Gaucher, or Gautier, Abbot, A. D. 1130. St. Dotto, Abbot.

CHRONOLOGY.

1483. The great lord Bacon died, aged 66. He fell from distinguished station to low estate, by having cultivated high wisdom at the expense of every day wisdom. “Lord Bacon,” says Rushworth, “was eminent over all the christian world for his many excellent writings. He was no admirer of money, yet he had the unhappiness to be defiled therewith. He treasured up nothing for himself, yet died in debt.” His connivance at the bribery of his servants made them his master and wrought his ruin. The gifts of suitors in the chancery rendered him suspected, but his decrees were so equitable that no one was ever reversed for its injustice.

Let him who lacking wisdom desires to know, and who willing to be taught will patiently learn, make himself master of “Bacon’s Essays.” It is a book more admired than read, and more read than understood, because of higher thought than most readers dare to compass. He who has achieved the “Essays” has a master-key to Bacon’s other works, and consequently every department of English literature.

1747. Lord Lovat was executed on Tower-hill, for high treason, at the age of 90. He was a depraved, bad man; and the coolness with which he wrought his profligate purposes, throughout an abandoned life, he carried to the scaffold.

1807. John Opie, the artist, died. He was born in Cornwall in 1761; self-taught in his youth he attained to high rank as an English historical painter, and at his death was professor of painting at the Royal Academy.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Red Polyanthus. Primula polyantha rubra. Dedicated to St. Mary.

~April 10.~

St. Bademus, Abbot, A. D. 376. B. Mechtildes, Virgin and Abbess, after 1300.

LOW SUNDAY.

The Sunday after Easter-day is called Low Sunday, because it is Easter-day repeated, with the church-service somewhat abridged or lowered in the ceremony from the pomp of the festival the Sunday before.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Pale Violet. Viola Tonbrigens. Dedicated to St. Mechtildes.

~April 11.~

St. Leo the Great, Pope, A. D. 461. St. Antipas. St. Guthlake, A. D. 714. St. Maccai, Abbot. St. Aid of Eacharaidh, Abbot.

CHRONOLOGY.

1713. The celebrated peace of Utrecht was concluded, and with it concluded the twelve years’ war for the succession to the throne of Spain.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Dandelion. Taraxacum Dens Leonis. Dedicated to St. Leo.

~April 12.~

St. Sabas, A. D. 372. St. Zeno, Bp. A. D. 380. St. Julius, Pope, A. D. 352. St. Victor, of Braga.

CHRONOLOGY.

65. Seneca, the philosopher, a native of Corduba in Spain, died at Rome, in the fifty-third year of his age. His moral writings have secured lasting celebrity to his name. He was preceptor to Nero, who, in the wantonness of power when emperor, sent an order to Seneca to destroy himself. The philosopher complied by opening his veins and taking poison. During these operations he conversed calmly with his friends, and his blood flowing languidly he caused himself to be placed in a hot bath, till Nero’s soldiers becoming clamorous for quicker extinction of his life, it was necessary to carry him into a stove and suffocated him by steam.[87] A distinguished French writer[88] quotes a passage from Seneca remarkable for its christian spirit; but this passage is cited at greater length by a living English author,[89] in order to show that Seneca was acquainted with christian principles, and in reality a christian.

We may almost be sure that it was impossible for Paul to have preached “in his own hired house,” at Rome, without Seneca having been attracted thither as an auditor, and entered into personal communication with the apostle. There exists a written correspondence said to have passed between Paul and Seneca, which, so far as regards Seneca’s epistles, many learned men have supposed genuine.

NERO.

While Nero followed Seneca’s advice, Rome enjoyed tranquillity. This emperor, who was tyrannical to a proverb, commenced his reign by acts of clemency, his sole object seemed to be the good of his people. When required to sign a list of malefactors, authorizing their execution, he exclaimed, “I wish to heaven I could not write.” He rejected flatterers; and when the senate commended the justice of his government, he desired them to keep their praises till he deserved them. Such conduct and sentiments were worthy the pupil of Seneca, and the Romans imagined their happiness secure. But Nero’s sensual and tyrannical disposition, which had been repressed only for a time, soon broke forth in acts of monstrous cruelty. He caused his mother Agrippa to be assassinated, and divorced his wife Octavia, whom he banished to Campania. The people, enraged at his injustice toward the empress, so openly expressed their indignation that he was compelled to recall her, and she returned to the capital amidst shouts of exultation.

The popular triumph was of short duration. Scarcely had Octavia resumed her rank, when Nero, under colour of a false and infamous charge, again banished her. Never exile filled the hearts of the beholders with more affecting compassion. The first day of Octavia’s nuptials was the commencement of her funeral. She was brought under a sad and dismal roof, from whence her father and brother had been carried off by poison. Though a wife, she was treated as a slave, and now she suffered the imputation of a crime more piercing than death itself. Add to this, she was a tender girl in the twentieth year of her age, surrounded by officers and soldiery devoted to her husband’s will, and whom she viewed as sad presages of his ferocious purposes. Almost bereft of life by her fears, and yet unwilling to surrender herself to the rest of the grave, she passed the interval of a few days in unspeakable terror. At length it was announced to her that she must die; but while she implored that at least her life might be spared, and conjured Nero to remember the relationship which before marriage they had borne to each other, by descent from a revered ancestor, she only exemplified the utter inefficacy of crouching to a truculent tyrant. Her appeals were answered by the seizure of her person, and the binding of her limbs; her veins were opened, but her blood, stagnant through fear, issued slowly, and she was stifled in the steam of a boiling bath. “For this execution the senate decreed gifts and oblations to the temples; a circumstance,” says Tacitus, “which I insert with design, that whoever shall, from me or any other writer, learn the events of those calamitous times, he may hold it for granted, that as often as sentences of murder and banishment were pronounced by the prince, so often were thanksgivings by the fathers paid to the deities.” Every decree of the senate was either a new flight of flattery, or the dregs of excessive tameness and servitude.

From this moment Nero butchered without distinction all he pleased, upon any idle pretence, and after an indiscriminate slaughter of men signal in name and quality, he became possessed with a passion to hew down virtue itself. His crimes would be incredible if they were not so enormous that it is scarcely possible imagination could invent atrocities of so foul a nature. He had attained to such indulgence in bloodshed, that the dagger itself was dedicated by him in the capitol, and inscribed to Jupiter Vindex, Jove the Avenger. Yet to this monster one of the consuls elect proposed that a temple should be raised at the charge of the state, and consecrated to the deified Nero as to one who soared above mortality, and was therefore entitled to celestial worship. This, though designed as a compliment to the tyrant, was construed into an omen of his fate, “since to princes,” says Tacitus, “divine honours are never paid till they have finally forsaken all commerce with men,” or, in other words, have ceased to be useful to them. Suetonius relates, that somebody in conversation saying, “When I am dead let fire devour the world”--“Nay,” rejoined Nero, “let it be whilst I am living;” and then he set Rome on fire, in so barefaced a manner, that many of the consular dignitaries detected the incendiaries with torches and tow in their own houses, and dared not touch them because they were officers of Nero’s bedchamber. The fire, during six days and seven nights, consumed a prodigious number of stately buildings, the public temples, and every thing of antiquity that was remarkable and worthy of preservation. The common people were driven by this conflagration to the tombs and monuments for shelter; and Nero himself beheld the flames from a tower on the top of Mæcenas’s house, and sung a ditty on the destruction of Troy, in the dress which he used to perform in on the public stage. This atrocious want of feeling occasioned the saying--“Nero fiddled while Rome was burning.” To divert the hideousness of this crime from himself, he transferred the guilt to the Christians. To their death and torture were added cruel derision and sport; “for,” says Tacitus, “either they were disguised in the skins of savage beasts, and exposed to expire by the teeth of devouring dogs; or they were hoisted up alive and nailed to crosses; or wrapt in combustible vestments, and set up as torches, that when the day set, they might be kindled to illuminate the night.” For this tragical spectacle Nero lent his own gardens, and exhibited at the same time the public diversions of the circus, sometimes driving a chariot in person, and at intervals standing as a spectator amongst the vulgar in the habit of a charioteer; and hence towards the miserable sufferers popular commiseration arose, as for people who were doomed to perish to gratify the bloody spirit of one man. At length, while plotting new and uncommon barbarities, an insurrection broke out amongst the troops, and the senate, who had truckled to his wishes, and made him a tyrant by submitting to be slaves, took heart and issued a decree against him. He committed suicide, under circumstances of such mental imbecility, that his death was as ludicrous as his life was horrible.

1765. Dr. Edward Young, author of the “Night Thoughts,” died.

1782. Admiral Rodney defeated the French fleet under count de Grasse, in the West Indies.

1814. A general illumination in London, on three successive nights, for the termination of the war with France.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Great Saxifrage. Saxifraga crassifolia. Dedicated to St. Zeno.

* * * * *

~An Epitaph.~

(Written on a chimney-board.)

Here lie entombed THE ASHES of a BRIGHT AND SHINING GENIUS, who in his youth it is confessed discovered some sparks of a light and volatile nature, but was in maturity of a steady and a grateful disposition and diffusive benevolence. Though naturally of a warm temper, and easily stirred up, yet was he a shining example of fervent and unreserved benignity. For though he might have been the most dangerous and dreadful of enemies, yet was he the best and warmest of friends. Nor did he ever look cool even on his worst foes, though his friends too often, and shamefully indeed, turned their backs upon him. Oh! undeserving and licentious times, when such illustrious examples are wantonly made light of! Such resplendent virtue basely blown upon! Though rather a promoter of a cheerful glass in others, and somewhat given to smoking, yet was he himself never seen in liquor, which was his utter abhorrence. Raking, which ruins most constitutions, was far from spoiling his, though it often threw him into inflammatory disorders. His days, which were short, were ended by a gentle decay, his strength wasted, and his substance spent. A temporal period was put to his finite existence, which was more immediately effected by his being seized with a severe cold, and no help administered, in some of the warm days of the fatal month of May. His loss and cheerful influence are often and feelingly regretted by his sincere admirers, who erected this monument in memory of his endearing virtue, till that grateful and appointed day, when the dormant powers of his more illustrious nature shall be again called forth: When, inflamed with ardour, and with resplendence crowned, he shall again rise with songs of joy and triumph o’er the grave.

[87] Lempriere.

[88] Bayle, Art. Pericles, note.

[89] Dr. John Jones, “On the Truth of the Christian Religion.”

~April 13.~

Oxford and Cambridge Terms begin.

St. Hermenegild, Martyr, A. D. 586. St. Guinoch, about 838. St. Caradoc, A. D. 1124.

CHRONOLOGY.

1517. Cairo taken by the sultan Selim, who thus became sole master of Egypt.

1748. The rev. Christopher Pitt, translator of Virgil, died at Blandford in Dorsetshire, where he was born in 1699.

1814. Charles Burney, Mus.D. F.R.S. &c. author of the “History of Music,” and other works, which stamp his literary ability, and his scientific character as a musician, died at Chelsea, aged 88.

CAMBRIDGE EXAMINATION.

A good-humoured jeu d’esprit, intended to produce nothing but corresponding good humour in the persons whose names are mentioned, appeared in The Times on the 25th of January, 1816. This being the first day of Cambridge Term, the “freshmen” who have seen recent imitations may be much amused by perusal of the original witticism.

Parody of a Cambridge Examination.

UTOPIA UNIVERSITY.

UNDECEMBER 9657.

1. Give a comparative sketch of the principal English theatres, with the dates of their erection, and the names of the most eminent candle-snuffers at each. What were the stage-boxes? What were the offices of prompter--ballet-master--and scene-shifter? In what part of the theatre was the one-shilling gallery? Distinguish accurately between operas and puppet-shows.

2. Where was Downing-street? Who was prime-minister when Cribb defeated Molineux--and where did the battle take place? Explain the terms milling--fibbing--cross buttock--neck and crop--bang up--and--prime.

3. Give the dates of all the parliaments from their first institution to the period of the hard frost on the Thames. In what month of what year was Mr. Abbot elected Speaker? Why was he called “the little man in the wig?” When the Speaker was out of the chair, where was the mace put?

4. Enumerate the principal houses of call in and about London, marking those of the Taylors, Bricklayers, and Shoemakers, and stating from what Brewery each house was supplied with Brown Stout. Who was the tutelary Saint of the Shoemakers? At what time was his feast celebrated? Who was Saint Swithin? Do you remember any remarkable English proverb respecting him?

5. Give a ground plan of Gilead-house. Mention the leading topics of the Guide to Health, with some account of the Anti-Impetigines--Daffy’s Elixir--Blaine’s Distemper Powders--Ching’s Worm Lozenges--and Hooper’s Female Pills.

6. Give characters of Wat Tyler, Jack Cade, and sir Francis Burdett. Did the latter return from the Tower by water or land? On what occasion did Mr. Lethbridge’s “hair stand on ind”? Correct the solecism, and give the reason of your alteration.

7. Enumerate the roads on which double toll was taken on the Sundays. Did this custom extend to Christmas-day and Good Friday? Who was toll-taker at Tyburn, when Mrs. Brownrigg was executed?

8. Distinguish accurately between Sculls and Oars--Boat, and Punt--Jack-ass, and Donkey--Gauger, Exciseman, and Supervisor--Pantaloons, Trowsers, Gaiters, and Over-alls.--At what place of education were any of these forbidden? Which? and Why?

9. Express the following words in the Lancashire, Derbyshire, London, and Exmoor dialects--Bacon--Poker--You--I--Doctor--and Turnpike-gate.

10. Mention the principal Coach Inns in London, with a correct list of the Coaches which set out from the Bolt-in-Tun. Where were the chief stands of Hackney Coaches?--and what was the No. of that in which the Princess Charlotte drove to Connaught-house? To what stand do you suppose this removed after it set her down?

11. Give a succinct account, with dates, of the following persons--Belcher--Mr. Waithman--Major Cartwright--Martin Van Butchell--and Edmund Henry Barker.

12. Draw a Map of the Thames with the surrounding country, marking particularly Wapping, Blackwall, Richmond, and the Isle of Dogs. Distinguish between Newcastle-on-Tyne, and Newcastle-under-Line--Gloucester and Double Gloucester--and the two Richmonds. What celebrated teacher flourished at one of them?--and who were his most eminent disciples?

13. What were the various sorts of paper in use amongst the English? To what purpose was whited-brown chiefly applied? What was size? Distinguish between this and college Sizings, and state the ordinary expense of papering a room.

14. “For every one knows little Matt’s an M.P.” Frag. Com. Inc. ap. Morn. Chron. vol. 59, p. 1624.

What reasons can you assign for the general knowledge of this fact? Detail at length, the ceremony of chairing a Member. What were the Hustings? Who paid for them? Explain the abbreviations--Matt. M.P.--Tom--Dick--F.R.S.--L.L.D.--and A.S.S.

15. What was the distinguishing title of the Mayors of London? Did any other city share the honour? Give a list of the Mayors of London from Sir Richard Whittington to Sir William Curtis, with an account of the Cat of the first, and the Weight of the last. What is meant by Lord Mayor’s day? Describe the Apothecaries’ Barge, and give some account of Marrow-bones and Cleavers.

16. When was Spyring and Marsden’s Lemon Acid invented? Distinguish between this and Essential Salt of Lemons. Enumerate the principal Patentees, especially those of Liquid Blacking.

17. Scan the following lines--

But for shaving and tooth-drawing, Bleeding, cabbaging and sawing, Dicky Gossip, Dicky Gossip is the man!

What is known of the character and history of Dicky Gossip?

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Green Narcisse. Narcissus Viridiflorus. Dedicated to St. Hermenigild.

~April 14.~

Sts. Tiburtius, Valerian, and Maximus, A. D. 229. Sts. Carpus, Bishop, Papylus, and Agathodorus, A. D. 251. Sts. Antony, John, and Eustachius, A. D. 1342. St. Benezet, or Little Bennet, A. D. 1184. B. Lidwina, or Lydwid, A. D. 1433.

CHRONOLOGY.

1471. The battle of Barnet was fought in the wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, and the earl of Warwick, called “the king-maker,” was slain on the field.

1685. Thomas Otway, the dramatic poet, died, at a public-house in the Minories, of want, by swallowing bread too eagerly which he had received in charity.

1759. George Frederick Handel, the illustrious musician, died. He was born at Halle, in Saxony, in 1684.

1793. Tobago, in the West Indies, taken by the English.

1809. Beilby Porteus, bishop of London, died at Fulham, aged 78.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Borage. Borago Officinalis. Dedicated to St. Lidwina.

THE SEASON.

The Floral appearances of the year are accurately described by Dr. Forster in his “Perennial Calendar.” He says, “In order to ascertain the varieties in the seasons, as indicated by the flowering of plants, we ought to become accurately acquainted with their natural periods, and the average time of flowering which belongs to each species. I have of late made an artificial division of the seasons of different plants into six distinct periods, to each of which respectively a certain number of species belong. Dividing then the reign of the goddess of blooms into six principal portions, we shall begin with the first in the order of phenomena. The Primaveral Flora may be said to commence with the first breaking of the frost before February; it comprehends the snowdrop, the crocus, the coltsfoot, all the tribe of daffodils, narcissi, jonquils, and hyacinths, the primrose, cyclamen, heartsease, violet, cowslip, crown imperial, and many others. The Equinox being also past, and the leaves beginning to bud forth amidst a display of blossoms on the trees, another period may be said to begin, and May ushers in the Vernal Flora, with tulips, peonies, ranunculi, monkey poppy, goatsbeards, and others: at this time, the fields are bespangled with the golden yellow of the crowfoot, or blue with the harebells. The whole bosom of earth seems spread with a beautiful carpet, to soften the path of Flora, at this delicious season. By and bye, towards the middle of June, the approach of the Solstice is marked by another set of flowers; and the scarlet lychnis, the various poppies, the lilies and roses, may be said to constitute the Solstitial Flora. As the year declines, the Aestival Flora, corresponding to the Vernal, paints the garish eyes of the dog-days with sunflowers, China asters, tropoeoli, African marigolds, and other plants which love heat. The Autumnal Flora, answering to the Primaveral, then introduces Michaelmas daisies, starworts, and other late blowing plants, with their companions, fungi and mushrooms, till at length bleak winter shows only a few hellebores, aconites, and mosses, belonging to the Hibernal Flora of this dreary season. Thus, in this our temperate climate, have we a round of botanical amusements all the year, and the botanist can never want for sources of recreation. How different must be the order of phenomena about the poles of the earth, where summer and winter are synonymous with day and night, of which Kirke White has given us a very fine description:--

On the North Pole.

Where the North Pole, in moody solitude, Spreads her huge tracts and frozen wastes around, There ice rock piled aloft, in order rude, Form a gigantic hall; where never sound Startled dull Silence’ ear, save when, profound The smoke frost muttered: there drear Cold for aye Thrones him,--and fixed on his primæval mound, Ruin, the giant, sits; while stern Dismay Stalks like some woe-struck man along the desert way.

In that drear spot, grim Desolation’s lair, No sweet remain of life encheers the sight; The dancing heart’s blood in an instant there Would freeze to marble, Mingling day and night, (Sweet interchange which makes our labours light,) Are there unknown; while in the summer skies, The sun rolls ceaseless round his heavenly height, Nor ever sets till from the scene he flies, And leaves the long bleak night of half the year to rise.”

~April 15.~

St. Peter Gonzales, or Telm, or Elm, A. D. 1246. Sts. Basilissa and Anastasia, 1st Cent. St. Paternus, Bishop, or Patier, Pair, or Foix, 6th Cent. St. Munde, Abbot, A. D. 962. St. Ruadhan, A. D. 584.

NATURAL HISTORY.

Average day of arrival of Spring Birds from a Twenty years’ Journal.

April 3. Smallest Willow Wren. Ficaria pinetorum arrives.

April 10. Common Willow Wren. Ficaria Salicum arrives.

April 14. Called First Cuckoo Day in Sussex. The Cuckoo, cuculus canorus, sometimes heard.

April 15. Called Swallow Day. The Chimney Swallow, Hirundo rustica, arrives.

April 19. The Sand Swallow. Hirundo riparia arrives.

April 20. The Martin. Hirundo terbica sometimes seen.

April 21. The Cuckoo, commonly heard.

April 30. The Martin, commonly seen.

The other vernal birds arrive between the 15th and 30th of the month.[90]

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Green Stitchwort. Stellaria holostea. Dedicated to St. Peter Gonzales.

AN APRIL DAY.

Original.

Dear Emma, on that infant brow, Say, why does disappointment low’r? Ah! what a silly girl art thou, To weep to see a summer show’r!

O, dry that unavailing tear, The promis’d visit you shall pay; The sky will soon again be clear, For ’tis, my love, an April day.

And see, the sun’s returning light Away the transient clouds hath driv’n, The rainbow’s arch with colours bright Spreads o’er the blue expanse of heav’n;

The storm is hush’d, the winds are still, A balmy fragrance fills the air; Nor sound is heard, save some clear rill Meandering thro’ the vallies fair.

Those vernal show’rs that from on high Descend, make earth more fresh and green; Those clouds that darken all the air Disperse, and leave it more serene

And those soft tears that for awhile Down sorrow’s faded cheek may roll, Shall sparkle thro’ a radiant smile, And speak the sunshine of the soul!

While yet thy mind is young and pure, This sacred truth, this precept learn-- That He who bids thee all endure, Bids sorrow fly, and hope return.

His chast’ning hand will never break The heart that trusts in Him alone; He never, never will forsake The meanest suppliant at his throne.

The world, that with unfeeling pride Sees vice to virtue oft preferr’d, From thee, alas! may turn aside-- O, shun the fawning, flatt’ring herd!

And while th’ Eternal gives thee health With joy thy daily course to run, Let wretches hoard their useless wealth, And Heav’n’s mysterious will be done.

With fair Religion, woo content, ’Twill bid tempestuous passions cease; And know, my child, the life that’s spent In pray’r and praise, must end in peace.

The dream of Life is quickly past, A little while we linger here; And tho’ the Morn be overcast, The Ev’ning may be bright and clear.

Islington.

D. G.

An Evening in Spring.

Now the noon, Wearied with sultry toil, declines and falls Into the mellow eve:--the west puts on Her gorgeous beauties--palaces and halls And towers, all carved of the unstable cloud Welcome the calmy waning monarch--he Sinks gently ’midst that glorious canopy Down on his couch of rest--even like a proud King of the earth--the ocean.

Bowring.

[90] Communicated by a scientific gentleman, whose daily observations and researches in Natural History, stamp value upon his contributions.

~April 16.~

Eighteen Martyrs of Saragossa, and St. Encratis, or Engratia, A. D. 304. St. Turibius, Bp. 420. St. Fructuosus, Abp. A. D. 665. St. Druon, or Drugo, A. D. 1186. St. Joachim of Sienna, A. D. 1305. St. Mans, or Magnus, A. D. 1104.

“The Venerable BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE, Who died in the odour of sanctity, On the 16th of April, 1783.”

If such a creature as the venerable B. J. Labre can be called a man, he was one of the silliest that ever lived to creep and whine, and one of the dirtiest that ever “died in the odour of sanctity;” and yet, for the edification of the English, his life is translated from the French “by the rev. M. James Barnard, ex-president of the English college at Lisbon and Vicar General of the London district.”

From this volume it appears that Labre was born at Boulogne, on the 26th of March, 1748. When a child he would not play as other children did, but made little oratories, and “chastised his body.” Having thus early put forth “buds of self-denial and self-contempt,” he was taught Latin, educated superior to his station, did penance, made his first general confession, and found his chief delight at the feet of altars. At sixteen years old, instead of eating his food he gave it away out of the window, read pious books as he walked, turned the house of his uncle, a priest, into “a kind of monastery,” observed religious poverty, monkish silence, and austere penance, and, by way of humility, performed abject offices for the people of the parish, fetched provender for their animals, took care of their cattle, and cleaned the stalls. The aversion which he entertained against the world, induced him to enter into a convent of Carthusians; there he discovered that he disliked profound retirement, and imagined he should not be able to save his soul unless he embraced an order more austere. Upon this he returned home, added extraordinary mortifications to his fasts and prayers, instead of sleeping on his bed lay on the floor, and told his mother he wished to go and live upon roots as the anchorets did. All this he might have done in the Carthusian convent, but his brain seems to have been a little cracked, for he resolved to go into another Carthusian convent, the prior of which would not admit him till he had studied ‘philosophy’ for a year, and learned the Gregorian chant. Church music was very agreeable to him--but it was not so with regard to logic; “notwithstanding all his efforts, he was never able to conquer his repugnance to this branch of study;” yet he somehow or other scrambled through an examination; got admitted into the convent; “thought its rules far too mild for such a sinner as he looked upon himself to be;” and after a six weeks’ trial, left it in search of admission into the order of La Trappe, as the most rigid of any that he knew. The Trappists would not have him; this refusal he looked upon as a heavenly favour, because the monastery of Sept-Fonts surpassed La Trappe in severe austerities and discipline, and there he became a “novice” till the life he fancied, did not agree with him. “Having a long time before quitted his father’s house he could not think of returning to it again;” and at two and twenty years of age he knew not what to do. His biographer says, that “little fit for the cloister, and still less fit for the world, he was destitute of the means of getting a livelihood; and being now persuaded of what were the designs of God concerning him, he resolved to follow the conduct, the light, and inspirations of the holy spirit, and to submit himself to all the sufferings and afflictions which might await him.” If in this condition some one had compelled him to eat a good dinner every day, made him go to bed at a proper hour and take proper rest, and then set him on horseback and trotted him through the fresh air and sun-shine every forenoon, he might have been restored; or if his parents, as in duty they ought, had bound him apprentice at a proper age to a good trade, he might have been an useful member of society. These thoughts, however, never appear to have entered Labre’s head, and in the dilemma represented “his love of humility, poverty, and a penitential life, presented to his zealous mind the practice of that kind of piety which he afterwards put in execution.” His first step to this was writing a farewell letter to his parents, on the 31st of August, 1770, “and from that time they never received any account of him till after his death.” His next steps were pilgrimages. First he went to Loretto “from tender devotion to the Blessed Virgin, whom he looked on as his mother;” next to Assissium the birthplace of St. Francis, where he, “according to custom, got a small blessed cord which he constantly wore;” then he went to Rome where he sojourned for eight or nine months and wept “in the presence of the tomb of the holy apostles;” afterwards “he visited the tomb of St. Romuald at Fabrieno, where the inhabitants immediately began to look upon him as a saint;” from thence he returned to Loretto; he then journeyed to Naples, and had the pleasure of seeing the blood of St. Januarius which would not liquify when the French entered Naples, till the French general threatened the priests who performed the miracle that the city would suffer, if the saint remained obstinate; “and in short,” says the rev. Vicar General of the London district, “there was hardly any famous place of devotion in Europe which was not visited by this servant of God;”--the Vicar General’s sentence had concluded better with the words “this slave of superstition.” To follow Labre’s other goings to and fro would be tedious, suffice it to say that at one of his Loretto trips some people offered him an abode, in order to save him the trouble of going every night to a barn at a great distance; but as they had prepared a room for him with a bed in it he thought this lodging was too sumptuous; and he therefore retired into a hole “cut out of the rock under the street.” Labre at last favoured the city of Rome by his fixed residence, and sanctified the amphitheatre of Flavian by making his home in a hole of the ancient ruins.

In this “hole of sufficient depth to hold and shelter him in a tolerable degree from the weather,” he deposited himself every night for several years. He employed the whole of every day, “sometimes in one church and sometimes in another, praying most commonly upon his knees, and at other times standing, and always keeping his body as still as if he were a statue.” Labre’s daily exercise in fasting and lifelessness reduced him to a helpless state, that a beggar had compassion on him, and gave him a recommendation to an hospital, where “by taking medicines proper for his disorder, and more substantial food, he soon grew well;” but relapsing into his “constant, uniform, and hidden life,” he became worse. This opportunity of exhibiting Labre’s virtues is not neglected by his biographer, who minutely informs us of several particulars. 1st. He was so careful to observe the law of silence, that in the course of a whole month, scarcely any one could hear him speak so much as a few words. 2dly. He lived in the midst of Rome, as if he had lived in the midst of a desert. 3dly. He led a life of the greatest self-denial, destitute of every thing, disengaged from every earthly affection, unnoticed by all mankind, desiring no other riches than poverty, no other pleasures than mortification, no other distinction than that of being the object of universal contempt. 4thly. He indulged in rigorous poverty, exposed to the vicissitudes and inclemencies of the weather, without shelter against the cold of winter or the heat of summer, wearing old clothes, or rather rags, eating very coarse food, and for three years living in the “hole in the wall.” 5thly. To his privations of all worldly goods, he joined an almost continual abstinence, frequent fasts, nightly vigils, lively and insupportable pains from particular mortifications, and two painful tumours which covered both his knees, from resting the whole weight of his body on them when he prayed. 6thly. “He looked upon himself as one of the greatest of sinners;” and this was the reason why “he chose to lead a life of reproach and contempt,” why he herded “among the multitude of poor beggars,” “why he chose to cover himself with rags and tatters instead of garments, why he chose to place a barrier of disgust between himself and mankind,” why “he abandoned himself to the bites of disagreeable insects,” and why he coveted to be covered with filthy blotches.

Labre’s biographer, who was also his confessor, says that his “appearance was disagreeable and forbidding; his legs were half naked, his clothes were tied round the waist with an old cord, his head was uncombed, he was badly clothed and wrapped up in an old and ragged coat, and in his outward appearance he seemed to be the most miserable beggar that I had ever seen.” His biographer further says, “I never heard his confession but in a confessional, on purpose that there might be some kind of separation between us.” The holy father’s lively reason for this precaution, any history of insects with the word “pediculus” will describe accurately.

Thus Labre lived and died; and here it might be supposed would end his memoirs. But, no. In whatever odour he lived, as he “died in the odour of sanctity,” an enthusiasm seized some persons to touch Labre dead, who, when living, was touchless. Labre being deceased, was competent to work miracles; accordingly he stretched out his left hand, and laid hold on the board of one of the benches. On Easter-day being a holiday, he worked more miracles, and wonders more wonderful than ever were wondered in our days, as may be seen at large, in the aforesaid volume, entitled--“The Life of the venerable Benedict Joseph Labre, who died at Rome, in the odour of sanctity.” The portrait, from which the engraving on this page is taken, was published immediately after his death by Mr. Coghlan, Catholic bookseller, Duke-street, Grosvenor-square, from a drawing in his possession.

Miracle at Somers Town.

The authenticity of the following extraordinary fact can be verified. Mr. H----, a middle-aged gentleman, long afflicted by various disorders, and especially by the gout, had so far recovered from a severe attack of the latter complaint, that he was enabled to stand, yet with so little advantage, that he could not walk more than fifty yards, and it took him nearly an hour to perform that distance. While thus enfeebled by suffering, and safely creeping in great difficulty, on a sunny day, along a level footpath by the side of a field near Somers Town, he was alarmed by loud cries, intermingled with the screams of many voices behind him. From his infirmity, he could only turn very slowly round, and then, to his astonishment, he saw, within a yard of his coat-tail, the horns of a mad bullock; when, to the equal astonishment of its pursuers, this unhappy gentleman instantly leaped the fence, and overcome by terror, continued to run with amazing celerity nearly the whole distance of the field, while the animal kept its own course along the road. The gentleman, who had thus miraculously recovered the use of his legs, retained his power of speed until he reached his own house, where he related the miraculous circumstance; nor did his quickly-restored faculty of walking abate, until it ceased with his life several years afterwards. This “miraculous cure” can be attested by his surviving relatives.

THE KALEIDOSCOPE.

In April, 1818, London was surprised by the sudden appearance of an optical instrument for creating and exhibiting beautiful forms, which derives its name from καλος beautiful, ειδος a form, and σκοπεω to see. The novelty was so enchanting, that opticians could not manufacture kaleidoscopes fast enough, to meet the universal desire for seeing the delightful and ever-varying combinations, presented by each turn of the magical cylinder.

The kaleidoscope was invented by Dr. Brewster, to whom, had its exclusive formation been ensured, it must have produced a handsome fortune in the course of a single year. Unhappily, that gentleman was deprived of his just reward by fraudful anticipation.[91] He says, “I thought it advisable to secure the exclusive property of it by a patent; but in consequence of one of the patent instruments having been exhibited to one of the London opticians, the remarkable properties of the kaleidoscope became known before any number of them could be prepared for sale. The sensation excited in London by this premature exhibition of its effects is incapable of description, and can be conceived only by those who witnessed it. It may be sufficient to remark, that, according to the computation of those who were best able to form an opinion on the subject, no fewer than two hundred thousand instruments have been sold in London and Paris during three months.”

The Kaleidoscope.

Mystic trifle, whose perfection Lies in multiplied reflection, Let us from thy sparkling store Draw a few reflections more: In thy magic circle rise All things men so dearly prize, Stars, and crowns, and glitt’ring things, Such as grace the courts of kings; Beauteous figures ever twining,-- Gems with brilliant lustre shining; Turn the tube;--how quick they pass-- Crowns and stars prove broken glass!

Trifle! let us from thy store Draw a few reflections more; Who could from thy outward case Half thy hidden beauties trace? Who from such exterior show Guess the gems within that glow? Emblem of the mind divine Cased within its mortal shrine!

Once again--the miser views Thy sparkling gems--thy golden hues-- And, ignorant of thy beauty’s cause, His own conclusions sordid draws; Imagines thee a casket fair Of gorgeous jewels rich and rare;-- Impatient his insatiate soul To be the owner of the whole, He breaks thee ope, and views within Some bits of glass--a tube of tin! Such are riches, valued true-- Such the illusions men pursue!

W. H. M.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Yellow Tulip. Tulipa Sylvestris. Dedicated to St. Joachim of Sienna.

[91] Brewster’s Hist. of the Kaleidoscope.

~April 17.~

St. Anicetus, Pope, 2d. Cent. St. Stephen, Abbot, A. D. 1134. St. Simeon, Bishop, and other Martyrs, A. D. 341.

Hock, OR HOKE DAY OR TIDE.

Antiquaries are exceedingly puzzled respecting the derivation of this annual festival, which commenced the fifteenth day after Easter, and was therefore a movable feast dependent upon Easter.[92] Though Matthew Paris, who is the oldest authority for the word Hoke-day, says it is “quindena paschæ,” yet Mr. Douce assigns convincing reasons for taking it as the second Tuesday after Easter. At Hock-tide, which seems to have included Monday and Tuesday, collections of Hock-money were made in various parishes by the churchwardens, until the Reformation.[93] Tuesday was the principal day. Hock Monday was for the men, and Hock Tuesday for the women. On both days the men and women alternately, with great merriment, intercepted the public roads with ropes, and pulled passengers to them, from whom they exacted money to be laid out for pious uses; Monday probably having been originally kept as only the vigil or introduction to the festival of Hock-day. Mr. Brand unaccountably, because inconsistently with his previous representations respecting the antiquity of the custom of heaving at Easter, derives that custom from the men and women Hocking each other, and collecting money at Hock-tide.

It is a tradition that this festival was instituted to commemorate the massacre of the Danes in England, under Etheldred, in the year 1002; a supposition however wholly unsupportable, because that event happened on the feast of St. Brice, in the month of November. Another and more reasonable opinion is, that the institution celebrated the final extinction of the Danish power by the death of Hardicanute, on the sixth day before the ides of June, 1042.[94] Yet, in relation to the former event, “certain good-hearted men of Coventry” petitioned, “that they might renew their old storial show” of the Hock-tide play before queen Elizabeth, when she was on a visit to the earl of Leicester, at his castle of Kenilworth, in July, 1575. According to “Laneham’s Letter,” this “storial show” set forth how the Danes were for quietness borne, and allowed to remain in peace withal, until on the said St. Brice’s night they were “all despatched and the realm rid;” and because the matter did show “in action and rhymes” how valiantly our English women, for love of their country, behaved, the “men of Coventry” thought it might move some mirth in her majesty. “The thing,” said they, “is grounded in story, and for pastime (was) wont to be played in our city yearly without ill example of manners, papistry, or any superstition:” and they knew no cause why it was then of late laid down, “unless it was by the zeal of certain of their preachers; men very commendable for their behaviour and learning, and sweet in their sermons, but somewhat too sour in preaching away their pastime.” By license, therefore, they got up their Hock-tide play at Kenilworth, wherein “capt. Cox,” a person here indescribable without hindrance to most readers, “came marching on valiantly before, clean trussed and garnished above the knee, all fresh in a velvet cap, flourishing with his ton-sword, and another fence-master with him, making room for the rest. Then proudly came the Danish knights on horseback, and then the English, each with their alder-pole martially in their hand.” The meeting at first waxing warm, then kindled with courage on both sides into a hot skirmish, and from that into a blazing battle with spear and shield; so that, by outrageous races and fierce encounters, horse and man sometimes tumbled to the dust. Then they fell to with sword and target, and did clang and bang, till, the fight so ceasing, afterwards followed the foot of both hosts, one after the other marching, wheeling, forming in squadrons, triangles, and circles, and so winding out again; and then got they so grisly together, that inflamed on each side, twice the Danes had the better, but at the last were quelled, and so being wholly vanquished, many were led captive in triumph by our English women. This matter of good pastime was wrought under the window of her highness, who beholding in the chamber delectable dancing, and therewith great thronging of the people, saw but little of the Coventry play; wherefore her majesty commanded it on the Tuesday following, to have it full out, and being then accordingly presented, her highness laughed right well. Then too, played the “good-hearted men of Coventry” the merrier, and so much the more, because her majesty had given them two bucks, and five marks in money; and they prayed for her highness long happily to reign, and oft to come thither, that oft they might see her; and rejoicing upon their ample reward, and triumphing upon their good acceptance, vaunted their play was never so dignified, nor ever any players before so beatified.[95]

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Fravi’s Cowl. Arum Arisarum. Dedicated to St. Stephen of Citeaux.

[92] Nares’s Glossary.

[93] See large extracts from their accounts, in Brand, &c.

[94] Allen’s Hist. of Lambeth.

[95] Concerning the Coventry Hock-tide play, it is reasonable to expect curious information from a forthcoming “Dissertation on the Pageants or Dramatic Mysteries, anciently performed at Coventry, chiefly with reference to the vehicle, characters, and dresses of the actors,” by Mr. Thomas Sharp, of Coventry, who, with access to the corporation manuscripts, and to other sources hitherto unexplored, and, above all, with the requisite knowledge and qualifications, will probably throw greater light on the obsolete drama, than has devolved upon it from the labours of any preceding antiquary.

~April 18.~

St. Apollonius, A. D. 186. St. Galdin, Abp. 1176. St. Laserian, or Molaisre, Bp. of Leighlin, A. D. 638.

CHRONOLOGY.

1689. The infamous judge Jefferies died in the Tower, whither he had been committed by the lords of the council, after he had been taken in the disguise of a common sailor for the purpose of leaving England. He was born at Acton, near Wrexham, in Denbighshire, and being raised to the bench, polluted its sanctity by perversions of the law. His habits and language were vulgar and disgusting. John Evelyn says, “I went this day to a wedding of one Mrs. Castle, to whom I had some obligation: and it was to her fifth husband, a lieutenant-colonel of the city. She was the daughter of one Bruton, a broom-man, by his wife, who sold kitchen-stuff in Kent-street, whom God so blessed, that the father became very rich, and was a very honest man; and this daughter was a jolly, friendly woman. There were at the wedding the lord mayor, the sheriff, several aldermen, and persons of quality; above all sir George Jefferies, newly made lord chief justice of England, who, with Mr. justice Withings, danced with the bride, and were exceeding merry! These great men spent the rest of the afternoon, till eleven at night, in drinking healths, taking tobacco, and talking much beneath the gravity of judges that had but a day or two before condemned Mr. Algernon Sidney, who was executed the 7th of Dec. 1683, on Tower-hill, on the single witness of that monster of a man, lord Howard of Escrick, and some sheets of paper taken in Mr. Sidney’s study, pretended to be written by him, but not fully proved.” James II. found Jefferies a fit instrument for his arbitrary purposes. After the defeat of the duke of Monmouth in the west, he employed the most sanguinary miscreants, and Jefferies among the rest, to wreak his vengeance on the deluded people. Bishop Burnet says, that Jefferies’s behaviour was brutally disgusting, beyond any thing that was ever heard of in a civilized nation; “he was perpetually either drunk or in a rage, liker a fury than the zeal of a judge.” He required the prisoners to plead guilty, on pretence of showing them favour; but he afterwards showed them no mercy, hanging many immediately. He hanged in several places about six hundred persons. The king had a daily account of Jefferies’ proceedings, which he took pleasure to relate in the drawing-room to foreign ministers, and at his table he called it Jefferies’s campaign. Upon Jefferies’ return, he created him a peer of England, by the title of earl of Flint. During these “bloody assizes,” the lady Lisle, a noble woman of exemplary character, whose husband had been murdered by the Stuart party, was tried for entertaining two gentlemen of the duke of Monmouth’s army; and though the jury twice brought her in not guilty, Jefferies sent them out again and again, until, upon his threatening to attaint them of treason, they pronounced her guilty. Jefferies, before he tried this lady, got the king to promise that he would not pardon her, and the only favour she obtained was the change of her sentence from burning to beheading. Mrs. Gaunt, a widow, near Wapping, who was a Baptist, and spent her time in acts of charity, was tried on a charge of having hid one Burton, who, hearing that the king had said that he would sooner pardon rebels than those who harboured them, accused his benefactress of having saved his life. She was burned at the stake. The excellent William Penn, the Quaker, saw her die, and related the manner of her death to Burnet. She laid the straw about her for her burning speedily, and behaved herself so heroically, that all melted into tears. Six men were hanged at Tyburn, on the like charge, without trial. At length, the bloody and barbarous executions were so numerous, that they spread horror throughout the nation. England was an acaldema: the country, for sixty miles together, from Bristol to Exeter, had a new and terrible sort of sign-posts or gibbets, bearing the heads and limbs of its butchered inhabitants. Every soul was sunk in anguish and terror, sighing by day and by night for deliverance, but shut out of all hope, till the arrival of the prince of Orange, on whom the two houses of parliament bestowed the crown. Jefferies had attained under James II. to the high office of lord chancellor.

1794. Died Charles Pratt, earl Camden, born in 1713. As chief justice of the common pleas, he was distinguished for having discharged the celebrated John Wilkes from the tower. By that decision, general warrants were pronounced illegal; and for so great a service to his country, lord Camden received the approbation of his fellow citizens; they conferred on him the freedom of their cities, and placed his picture in their corporation-halls. He was equally distinguished for opposing the opinion of prerogative lawyers in matters of libel. At his death he was lord president of the council. Firm of purpose, and mild in manners, he was a wise and amiable man. It is pleasantly related of him, that while chief justice, being upon a visit to lord Dacre, at Alveley, in Essex, he walked out with a gentleman, a very absent man, to a hill, at no great distance from the house, upon the top of which stood the stocks of the village. The chief justice sat down upon them; and after a while, having a mind to know what the punishment was, he asked his companion to open them and put him in. This being done, his friend took a book from his pocket, sauntered on, and so completely forgot the judge and his situation, that he returned to lord Dacre’s. In the mean time, the chief justice being tired of the stocks, tried in vain to release himself. Seeing a countryman pass by, he endeavoured to move him to let him out, but obtained nothing by his motion. “No, no, old gentleman,” said the countryman, “you was not set there for nothing;” and left him, until he was released by a servant of the house despatched in quest of him. Some time after he presided at a trial in which a charge was brought against a magistrate for false imprisonment, and for setting in the stocks. The counsel for the magistrate, in his reply, made light of the whole charge, and more especially setting in the stocks, which he said every body knew was no punishment at all. The chief justice rose, and leaning over the bench, said, in a half-whisper, “Brother, have you ever been in the stocks?” “Really, my lord, never.”--“Then I have,” said the judge, “and I assure you, brother, it is no such trifle as you represent.”

1802. Dr. Erasmus Darwin died. He was born at Newark in Nottinghamshire, in 1732, and attained to eminence as a physician and a botanist. His decease was sudden. Riding in his carriage, he found himself mortally seized, pulled the check-string, and desired his servant to help him to a cottage by the road-side. On entering, they found a woman within, whom the doctor addressed thus, “Did you ever see a man die?”--“No, sir.”--“Then now you may.” The terrified woman ran out at the door, and in a few minutes Darwin was no more. He strenuously opposed the use of ardent spirits, from conviction that they induced dreadful maladies, especially gout, dropsy, and insanity; hence his patients were never freed from his importunities, and the few who had courage to persevere benefited by his advice.

THE MAID SERVANT.

Holidays being looked forward to with unmixed delight by all whose opportunities of enjoying them are dependent upon others, a sketch of character at such a season may amuse those whose inclination is not sufficiently strong to study the original, and just enough to feel pleasure in looking at the picture. The outline and finishing of that which is here exhibited prove it the production of a master hand.

“The maid servant must be considered as young, or else she has married the butcher, the butler, or her cousin, or has otherwise settled into a character distinct from her original one, so as to become what is properly called the domestic. The maid servant, in her apparel, is either slovenly or fine by turns, and dirty always; or she is at all times snug and neat, and dressed according to her station. In the latter case, her ordinary dress is black stockings, a stuff gown, a cap, and neck-handkerchief pinned corner-wise behind. If you want a pin, she just feels about her, and has always one to give you. On Sundays and holidays, and perhaps of afternoons, she changes her black stockings for white, puts on a gown of a better texture and fine pattern, sets her cap and her curls jauntily, and lays aside the neck-handkerchief for a high body, which, by the way, is not half so pretty. There is something very warm and latent in the handkerchief,--something easy, vital, and genial. A woman in a high-bodied gown, made to fit her like a case, is by no means more modest, and is much less tempting. She looks like a figure at the head of a ship. We could almost see her chucked out of doors into a cart with as little remorse as a couple of sugar-loaves. The tucker is much better, as well as the handkerchief; and is to the other, what the young lady is to the servant. The one always reminds us of the Sparkler in the ‘Guardian;’ the other of Fanny in ‘Joseph Andrews.’ But to return:--The general furniture of her ordinary room, the kitchen, is not so much her own as her master’s and mistress’s, and need not be described; but in a drawer of the dresser of the table, in company with a duster and a pair of snuffers, may be found some of her property, such as a brass thimble, a pair of scissars, a thread-case, a piece of wax candle much wrinkled with the thread, an odd volume of ‘Pamela,’ and perhaps a sixpenny play, such as ‘George Barnwell,’ or Mrs. Behn’s ‘Oroonoko.’ There is a piece of looking-glass also in the window. The rest of her furniture is in the garret, where you may find a good looking-glass on the table; and in the window a Bible, a comb, and a piece of soap. Here stands also, under stout lock and key, the mighty mystery--the box,--containing among other things her clothes, two or three song-books, consisting of nineteen for the penny; sundry tragedies at a half-penny the sheet: the ‘Whole Nature of Dreams laid open,’ together with the ‘Fortune-teller,’ and the ‘Account of the Ghost of Mrs. Veal;’ ‘the story of the beautiful Zoa who was cast away on a desert island, showing how,’ &c.: some half-crowns in a purse, including pieces of country money, with the good countess of Coventry on one of them riding naked on the horse; a silver penny wrapped up in cotton by itself; a crooked sixpence, given her before she came to town, and the giver of which has either forgotten her or been forgotten by her, she is not sure which; two little enamel boxes, with looking-glass in the lids, one of them a fairing, the other ‘a trifle from Margate;’ and lastly, various letters, square and ragged, and directed in all sorts of spelling, chiefly with little letters for capitals. One of them, written by a girl who went to a day school with her, is directed ‘miss.’--In her manners, the maid servant sometimes imitates her young mistress; she puts her hair in papers, cultivates a shape, and occasionally contrives to be out of spirits. But her own character and condition overcome all sophistications of this sort; her shape, fortified by the mop and scrubbing-brush, will make its way; and exercise keeps her healthy and cheerful. From the same cause her temper is good; though she gets into little heats when a stranger is over saucy, or when she is told not to go so heavily down stairs, or when some unthinking person goes up her wet stairs with dirty shoes--or when she is called away often from dinner; neither does she much like to be seen scrubbing the street-door-steps of a morning; and sometimes she catches herself saying, ‘drat that butcher,’ but immediately adds, ‘God forgive me.’ The tradesmen indeed, with their compliments and arch looks, seldom give her cause to complain. The milkman bespeaks her good humour for the day with--‘Come, pretty maids.’ Then follow the butcher, the baker, the oilman, &c. all with their several smirks and little loiterings; and when she goes to the shops herself, it is for her the grocer pulls down his string from its roller with more than ordinary whirl, and tosses, as it were, his parcel into a tie,--for her, the cheesemonger weighs his butter with half a glance, cherishes it round about with his patties, and dabs the little piece on it to make up, with a graceful jerk. Thus pass the mornings between working, and singing, and giggling, and grumbling, and being flattered. If she takes any pleasure unconnected with her office before the afternoon, it is when she runs up the area-steps, or to the door to hear and purchase a new song, or to see a troop of soldiers go by; or when she happens to thrust her head out of a chamber window at the same time with a servant at the next house, when a dialogue infallibly ensues, stimulated by the imaginary obstacles between. If the maid-servant is wise, the best part of her work is done by dinner time; and nothing else is necessary to give perfect zest to the meal. She tells us what she thinks of it, when she calls it ‘a bit o’ dinner.’ There is the same sort of eloquence in her other phrase, ‘a cup o’ tea;’ but the old ones, and the washerwomen, beat her at that. After tea in great houses, she goes with the other servants to hot cockles, or What-are-my-thoughts like, and tells Mr. John to ‘have done then;’ or if there is a ball given that night, they throw open all the doors, and make use of the music up stairs to dance by. In smaller houses, she receives the visit of her aforesaid cousin; and sits down alone, or with a fellow maid servant, to work; talks of her young master, or mistress, Mr. Ivins (Evans): or else she calls to mind her own friends in the country, where she thinks the cows and ‘all that’ beautiful, now she is away. Meanwhile, if she is lazy, she snuffs the candle with her scissars; or if she has eaten more heartily than usual, she sighs double the usual number of times, and thinks that tender hearts were born to be unhappy. Such being the maid-servant’s life in doors, she scorns, when abroad, to be any thing but a creature of sheer enjoyment. The maid-servant, the sailor, and the school-boy, are the three beings that enjoy a holiday beyond all the rest of the world: and all for the same reason,--because their inexperience, peculiarity of life, and habit of being with persons or circumstances or thoughts above them, give them all, in their way, a cast of the romantic. The most active of money-getters is a vegetable compared with them. The maid-servant when she first goes to Vauxhall, thinks she is in heaven. A theatre is all pleasure to her, whatever is going forward, whether the play, or the music, or the waiting which makes others impatient, or the munching of apples and gingerbread nuts, which she and her party commence almost as soon as they have seated themselves. She prefers tragedy to comedy, because it is grander, and less like what she meets with in general; and because she thinks it more in earnest also, especially in the love scenes. Her favourite play is ‘Alexander the Great, or the Rival Queens,’ Another great delight is in going a shopping. She loves to look at the patterns in the window, and the fine things labelled with those corpulent numerals of ‘only 7s.’--‘only 6s. 6d.’ She has also, unless born and bred in London, been to see my lord mayor, the fine people coming out of court, and the ‘beasties’ in the tower; and at all events she has been to Astley’s and the Circus, from which she comes away equally smitten with the rider, and sore with laughing at the clown. But it is difficult to say what pleasure she enjoys most. One of the completest of all is the fair, where she walks through an endless round of noise, and toys, and gallant apprentices, and wonders. Here she is invited in by courteous, well dressed people as if she were the mistress. Here also is the conjuror’s booth, where the operator himself, a most stately and genteel person all in white, calls her ‘ma’am;’ and says to John by her side, in spite of his laced hat, ‘Be good enough, sir, to hand the card to the lady.’ Ah! may her cousin turn out as true as he says he is; or may she get home soon enough, and smiling enough, to be as happy again next time.”

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Musk Narcisse. Narcissus moschatus. Dedicated to St. Apollonius.

~April 19.~

St. Leo IX. Pope, A. D. 1054. St. Elphege, A. D. 1012. St. Ursmar, Bp. A. D. 713.

St. Elphege.

This saint’s name in the church of England calendar is Alphege. He was brought up at the monastery of Deerhurst, in Gloucestershire; afterwards he built himself a lonely cell in the abbey of Bath, where he became abbot, and corrected the “little junketings” and other irregularities of the monks. St. Dunstan being warned in a vision, drew him from thence, and gave him episcopal ordination. In 1006, he became bishop of Winchester, and was afterwards translated to the see of Canterbury. On the storming of that city by the Danes, he endeavoured to allay their fury, but they burnt his cathedral, decimated his monks, and carrying Alphege prisoner to Canterbury, there slew him on this day in 1012.[96]

It is storied, that when St. Alphege was imprisoned at Greenwich, the devil appeared to him in likeness of an angel, and tempted him to follow him into a dark valley, over which he wearily walked through hedges and ditches, till at last being in a most foul mire the devil vanished, and a real angel appeared and told St. Alphege to go back to prison and be a martyr, which he did. Then after his death, an old rotten stake was driven into his body, and those who drave it said, that if on the morrow the stake was green and bore leaves they would believe; whereupon the stake flourished and the drivers thereof repented as they said they would, and the body being buried at St. Paul’s church, in London, worked miracles.[97]

In commemoration of this saint was put up in Greenwich church the following inscription: “This church was erected and dedicated to the glory of God, and the memory of Saint Alphege, archbishop of Canterbury, here slain by the Danes.”

CHRONOLOGY.

1739. Died, Dr. Nicholas Saunderson, Lucasian professor of mathematics. He was born in 1659, at Thurlston, in Yorkshire, lost his sight from the small pox when twelve months old, and became so proficient in the science of certainties, that his eminence has rarely been equalled.

1775. The American war commenced at Lexington.

1791. Dr. Richard Price died. He was born in Glamorganshire in 1732. Revered for the purity of his private character, he is celebrated for his religious, moral, mathematical, and political works throughout Europe.

1824. Lord Byron died. A letter taken from a newspaper several years ago,[98] relative to the residence of this distinguished character in the island of Mitylene, seems to have escaped editorial inquiry, and is therefore subjoined. If authentic, it is, in some degree, an interesting memorial.

Mr. Editor,

In sailing through the Grecian Archipelago, on board one of his majesty’s vessels, in the year 1812, we put into the harbour of Mitylene, in the island of that name. The beauty of this place, and the certain supply of cattle and vegetables always to be had there, induce many British vessels to visit it, both men of war and merchantmen; and though it lies rather out of the track for ships bound to Smyrna, its bounties amply repay for the deviation of a voyage. We landed, as usual, at the bottom of the bay, and whilst the men were employed in watering, and the purser bargaining for cattle with the natives, the clergyman and myself took a ramble to a cave, called Homer’s School, and other places, where we had been before. On the brow of Mount Ida (a small monticole so named) we met with and engaged a young Greek as our guide, who told us he had come from Scio with an English lord, who left the island four days previous to our arrival, in his felucca. “He engaged me as a pilot,” said the Greek, “and would have taken me with him, but I did not choose to quit Mitylene, where I am likely to get married. He was an odd, but a very good man. The cottage over the hill, facing the river, belongs to him, and he has left an old man in charge of it; he gave Dominick, the wine trader, six hundred zechines for it, (about 250_l._ English currency,) and has resided there about fourteen months, though not constantly; for he sails in his felucca very often to the different islands.”

This account excited our curiosity very much, and we lost no time in hastening to the house where our countryman had resided. We were kindly received by an old man, who conducted us over the mansion. It consisted of four apartments on the ground floor: an entrance hall, a drawing-room, a sitting parlour, and a bed room, with a spacious closet annexed. They were all simply decorated: plain green-stained walls, marble tables on either side, a large myrtle in the centre, and a small fountain beneath, which could be made to play through the branches by moving a spring fixed in the side of a small bronze Venus in a leaning posture; a large couch or sopha completed the furniture. In the hall stood half a dozen English cane chairs, and an empty bookcase: there were no mirrors, nor a single painting. The bed-chamber had merely a large mattrass spread on the floor, with two stuffed cotton quilts and a pillow--the common bed throughout Greece. In the sitting room we observed a marble recess, formerly, the old man told us, filled with books and papers, which were then in a large seaman’s chest in the closet: it was open, but we did not think ourselves justified in examining the contents. On the tablet of the recess lay Voltaire’s, Shakspeare’s, Boileau’s, and Rousseau’s works, complete; Volney’s “Ruins of Empires;” Zimmerman, in the German language; Klopstock’s “Messiah;” Kotzebue’s novels; Schiller’s play of the “Robbers;” Milton’s “Paradise Lost,” an Italian edition, printed at Parma in 1810; several small pamphlets from the Greek press at Constantinople, much torn. Most of these books were filled with marginal notes, written with a pencil, in Italian and Latin. The “Messiah” was literally scribbled all over, and marked with slips of paper, on which also were remarks.

The old man said, “the lord had been reading these books the evening before he sailed, and forgot to place them with the others; but,” said he, “there they must lie until his return; for he is so particular, that were I to move one thing without orders, he would frown upon me for a week together: he is otherwise very good. I once did him a service, and I have the produce of this farm for the trouble of taking care of it, except twenty zechines, which I pay to an aged Armenian, who resides in a small cottage in the wood, and whom the lord brought here from Adrianople; I don’t know for what reason.”

The appearance of the house externally was pleasing. The portico in front was fifty paces long and fourteen broad, and the fluted marble pillars with black plinths and fret-work cornices, (as it is now customary in Grecian architecture,) were considerably higher than the roof. The roof, surrounded by a light stone balustrade, was covered by a fine Turkey carpet, beneath an awning of strong coarse linen. Most of the house-tops are thus furnished, as upon them the Greeks pass their evenings in smoking, drinking light wines, such as “lachryma Christi,” eating fruit, and enjoying the evening breeze.

On the left hand, as we entered the house, a small streamlet glided away; grapes, oranges, and limes were clustering together on its borders, and under the shade of two large myrtle bushes, a marble seat, with an ornamental wooden back, was placed, on which, we were told, the lord passed many of his evenings and nights, till twelve o’clock, reading, writing, and talking to himself. “I suppose,” said the old man, “praying; for he was very devout, and always attended our church twice a week, besides Sundays.”

The view from this seat was what may be termed “a bird’s eye view.” A line of rich vineyards led the eye to Mount Calcla, covered with olive and myrtle-trees in bloom, and on the summit of which an ancient Greek temple appeared in majestic decay. A small stream issuing from the ruins, descended in broken cascades, until it was lost in the woods near the mountain’s base. The sea, smooth as glass, and an horizon unshaded by a single cloud, terminates the view in front; and a little on the left, through a vista of lofty chesnut and palm-trees, several small islands were distinctly observed, studding the light blue wave with spots of emerald green. I seldom enjoyed a view more than I did this; but our inquiries were fruitless as to the name of the person who had resided in this romantic solitude; none knew his name but Dominick, his banker, who had gone to Candia. “The Armenian,” said our conductor, “could tell, but I am sure he will not.”--“And cannot you tell, old friend?” said I.--“If I can,” said he, “I dare not.” We had not time to visit the Armenian, but on our return to the town we learnt several particulars of the isolated lord. He had portioned eight young girls when he was last upon the island, and even danced with them at the nuptial feast. He gave a cow to one man, horses to others, and cotton and silk to the girls who live by weaving these articles. He also bought a new boat for a fisherman who had lost his own in a gale, and he often gave Greek Testaments to the poor children. In short, he appeared to us, from all we collected, to have been a very eccentric and benevolent character. One circumstance we learnt which our old friend at the cottage thought proper not to disclose. He had a most beautiful daughter, with whom the lord was often seen walking on the sea-shore, and he had bought her a pianoforte, and taught her himself the use of it.

Such was the information with which we departed from the peaceful isle of Mitylene; our imaginations all on the rack, guessing who this rambler in Greece could be. He had money, it was evident: he had philanthropy of disposition, and all those eccentricities which mark peculiar genius. Arrived at Palermo, all our doubts were dispelled. Falling in with Mr. Foster, the architect, a pupil of Wyatt’s, who had been travelling in Egypt and Greece, “The individual,” said he, “about whom you are so anxious, is lord Byron; I met him in my travels on the island of Tenedos, and I also visited him at Mitylene.”--We had never then heard of his lordship’s fame, as we had been some years from home; but “Childe Harold” being put into our hands, we recognised the recluse of Calcla in every page. Deeply did we regret not having been more curious in our researches at the cottage, but we consoled ourselves with the idea of returning to Mitylene on some future day; but to me that day will never return.

* * * * JOHN MITFORD.

* * * * *

The names of Byron and Moore are associated for their attainments; they were kindred in their friendship. The last lines, written by lord Byron, on his native soil, were addressed to Mr. Moore:

My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But ere I go, TOM MOORE, Here’s a double health to thee.

Here’s a sigh for those I love, And a smile for those I hate, And, whatever sky’s above, Here’s a heart for any fate.

Though the ocean roars around me, It still shall bear me on; Though a desert should surround me It hath springs that may be won.

Were it the last drop in the well, As I gasped on the brink, Ere my fainting spirits fell, ’Tis to thee that I would drink.

In that water, as this wine, The libation I would pour Should be--Peace to thee and thine, And a health to thee, TOM MOORE.

Forbearing to estimate him whom the low and the lofty alike assume to measure, a passage from his own pen may fitly conclude this notice:--

Beautiful! How beautiful is all this visible world! How glorious in its action and itself; But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mix’d essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will Till our mortality predominates, And men are--what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other.

Byron.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Ursine Garlick. Allium Ursinum. Dedicated to St. Leo IX., Pope.

[96] Butler.

[97] Golden Legend.

[98] Observer, Nov. 15, 1818.

~April 20.~

St. Agnes, of Monte Pulciano, A. D. 1317. St. Serf, or Servanus, Bp. 5th Cent. St. James of Sclavonia, or Illyricum, A. D. 1485.

Easter Term, 1825, begins.

On this day the sun enters Taurus ♉ or the bull, at 9 h. 50 m. A. M., at which period black cattle produce their offspring, and hence probably the sign is represented by the male animal. The Greeks affirmed it to be the bull into which Jupiter metamorphosed himself, when he visited Europa, but this sign was figured and worshipped throughout the East as the god Apis, or a symbol of the sun, before the Greek zodiac existed.

SEASONABLE DESIRES.

With the incoming of spring there is an outgoing from town, or a wish to do so. We all love what nature proffers to our enjoyment. Now--the humble tenant of the lofty attic in the metropolis, cultivates a few flowers in garden pots, within the ridge of the parapet that bounds the eye from all things but sky and clouds; and when he can, walks with his wife in search of fields where grass grows and cattle feed. Now--the better conditioned take a trip a few miles beyond the suburbs, and all manifest hopes or wishes for prolonged enjoyment of the country in the approaching summer. Now--ready furnished cottages and lodgings, which have been “to let” throughout the winter in the villages near the metropolis, find admirers, and some of them find occupiers. Now--the good wife reminds her good man--“My dear it’s very hard, after so many years not to be able to afford a little comfort at last--we can’t, you know, live in this way for ever. What a charming day this is. Let us see and get a little place just a little way from town against the fine weather comes; the walk there and back will do you good; it will do us all good; and the expense won’t be miss’d in the long run.” Now the thoughtful and thrifty, and the unthoughtful and the unthrifty, of certain and uncertain income, begin to plan or scheme where to go “after parliament’s up,” or in what neighbourhood, or on what site, to hire or build a house suitable to their real or imaginary wants. Now, in other words, “all the world” in London is thinking how or where “to go out of town by and bye.”

I who a country life admire, And ne’er of rural prospects tire, Salute my friend who loves the town, And hates to see a country clown. Tho’ we almost congenial be, In this howe’er we disagree; You’re fond of bustle, din, and smoke, And things that always me provoke, Whilst I clear rivulets extol, That o’er their pebbly channels roll, Rude mossy rocks that nodding stand; Rich corn that’s waving o’er the land, Thick shady groves where zephyrs play And cool the sultry heat of day; I’m fond of every rustic sport, And hate--detest a venal court. Whene’er I quit the noisy town, And to my rural spot get down, I find myself quite at my ease, And can do whatsoe’er I please; Sometimes I study, sometimes ride, Or stroll along the river’s side, Or saunter through some fertile mead, Where lowing herds in plenty feed; Or rest upon a bank of flowers, And pass, ’midst innocence, my hours.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Spring Snowflake. Leucojum vernum. Dedicated to St. Agnes of Monte Pulciano.

~April 21.~

St. Anselm. St. Anastasius, the Sinaite, A. D. 678. _St. Anastasius_ I., Patriarch, A. D. 598. St. Anastasius, the younger, A. D. 610. St. Beuno, or Beunor, Abbot of Clynnog, A. D. 616. _St. Eingan_, or Eneon, A. D. 590. St. Malrubius, A. D. 721.

St. Anselm.

Was born at Aoust in Piedmont, and was made archbishop of Canterbury, by William Rufus, in 1093. Butler gives a circumstantial account of his life and writings, from whence it appears that Anselm was a learned and skilful theologian, and conducted his affairs with great circumspection and obedience to the papal see under William I. and II., and Henry I.; and that he died on the 21st of April, 1109, aged seventy-six: he says, “We have authentic accounts of many admirable miracles wrought by this saint.”

CHRONOLOGY.

753. B. C. Romulus commenced the foundations of Rome; on this day his brother Remus was slain by Romulus or his workmen, for having ridiculed the slenderness of the walls. Thus raised in blood they became the sanctuary of refugees and criminals, and to increase the population neighbouring females were forcibly dragged within its boundaries.

323. B. C. Alexander the Great, son of Philip of Macedon died. When a boy he tamed Bucephalus, a horse which none of the courtiers could manage, and Philip wept that the kingdom of Macedonia would be too small for such a son. He was under Aristotle for five years; after the assassination of his father, he slew his murderers, succeeded him in the sovereignty, conquered Thrace and Illyricum, destroyed Thebes, became chief commander of all the forces of Greece, conquered Darius and all Minor Asia, subdued Egypt, Media, Syria, and Persia, visited the temple of Jupiter Ammon, bribed the priests to salute him as the son of that god, exacted divine honours from his army, spread his conquests over India, invaded Scythia, visited the Indian ocean, and laden with the spoils of India, returned to Babylon, where he died of drunkenness, in the thirty-second year of his age. After his death, all his family and infant children were put to death, his generals quarrelled for the empire, and bloody wars distributed the prize in shares to the sanguinary winners.

1142. Peter Abelard, a learned doctor of the church died, aged sixty-three. He was the celebrated lover of the no less celebrated Heloise, the niece of a canon, who placed her under Abelard to be taught philosophy, of whom she learned the art of love; and preferring an infamous reputation to the bonds of wedlock, caused her tutor’s ruin.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Cyprus Narcisse. Narcissus Orientalis albus. Dedicated to St. Anselm.

~April 22.~

Sts. Sotor and Caius, Popes, 2d Cent. St Caius, Pope, A. D. 296. Sts. Azades, Tharba, &c., Martyrs in Persia, A. D. 341. _Sts. Epipodius_ and Alexander, 2d Cent. St. Theodorus, of Siceon, Bishop, A. D. 613. St. Opportuna, Abbess, A. D. 770. St. Leonides, A. D. 202. St. Rufus, or Rufin, of Glendaloch.

ROOKS.--An Anecdote.

Amongst the deliramenta of the learned, which have amused mankind, the following instance merits a conspicuous rank. Some years ago, there were several large elm trees in the college garden, behind the ecclesiastical court, Doctors Commons, in which a number of rooks had taken up their abode, forming in appearance a sort of convocation of aërial ecclesiastics. A young gentleman, who lodged in an attic, and was their close neighbour, frequently entertained himself with thinning this covey of black game, by means of a cross-bow. On the opposite side lived a curious old civilian, who, observing from his study, that the rooks often dropt senseless from their perch, or as it may be said, without using a figure, hopp’d the twig, making no sign, nor any sign being made to his vision to account for the phenomenon, set his wits to work to consider the cause. It was probably during a profitless time of peace, and the doctor having plenty of leisure, weighed the matter over and over, till he was at length fully satisfied that he had made a great ornithological discovery, that its promulgation would give wings to his Fame, and that he was fated by means of these rooks to say,

“Volito vivus per ora virum.”

His goose-quill and foolscap were quickly in requisition, and he actually wrote a treatise, stating circumstantially what he himself had seen, and in conclusion, giving it as the settled conviction of his mind, that rooks were subject to the falling sickness![99]

SPARROWS.

Country churchwardens and overseers are encouraged by farmers to offer rewards for the destruction of these merry twitterers, under the notion that they are fell destroyers of their grain. Mr. Bewick has taken some interest in their behalf, by stating a plain fact. He says:

“Most of the smaller birds are supported, especially when young, by a provision of caterpillars, small worms and insects; on these they feed, and thus they contribute to preserve the vegetable world from destruction. This is contrary to the commonly received opinion, that birds, particularly SPARROWS, do much mischief in destroying the labours of the gardener and husbandman. It has been observed, ‘that a SINGLE PAIR OF SPARROWS, during the time they are feeding their young, will destroy about FOUR THOUSAND CATERPILLARS WEEKLY!’ They likewise feed their young with butterflies and other winged insects, each of which, if not destroyed in this manner, would be productive of several hundreds of caterpillars. Let us not condemn a whole species of animals, because, in some instances, we have found them troublesome or inconvenient. Of this we are sufficiently sensible; but the uses to which they are subservient, in the grand economical distribution of nature, we cannot so easily ascertain. We have already observed that, in the destruction of caterpillars, sparrows are eminently serviceable to vegetation, and in this respect alone, there is reason to suppose, sufficiently re-pay the destruction they make in the produce of the garden or the field. The great table of nature is spread alike to all, and is amply stored with every thing necessary for the support of the various families of the earth: it is owing to the superior intelligence and industry of man, that he is enabled to appropriate so large a portion of the best gifts of providence for his own subsistence and comfort; let him not then think it waste, that, in some instances, creatures inferior to him in rank are permitted to partake with him, nor let him grudge them their scanty pittance; but, considering them only as the tasters of his full meal, let him endeavour to imitate their cheerfulness, and lift up his heart in grateful effusions to HIM, ‘who filleth all things with plenteousness.’”

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Wood Crowfoot. Rununculus Auricomus. Dedicated to St. Rufus.

[99] Morn. Chron., Sept. 3, 1818.

~April 23.~

St. George. St. Adalbert, Bp. A. D. 997. St. Gerard, Bp. A. D. 994. St. Ibar, or Ivor, Bp. in Ireland, about 500.

ST. GEORGE the Martyr,

Patron of England.

Who was St. George? Butler says that the Greeks long distinguished him by the title of “The Great Martyr;” that, among other churches, five or six were formerly dedicated to him at Constantinople; that he “seems” to have been the founder of the church of St. George over “his tomb” in Palestine; that one of his churches in Constantinople gave to the Hellespont the name of “the Arm of St. George;” that he is honoured as principal patron of saints by several eastern nations, particularly “the Georgians;” that the Byzantine historians relate battles gained, and miracles won, by his intercession; that he was celebrated in France in the sixth century; that his office is found in the sacramentary of the (credulous) pope Gregory the Great; that certain of his (presumed) relics were placed in a church at Paris, on its consecration to St. Vincent; that “he is said to have been a great soldier;” that he was chosen by our ancestors the tutelar saint of England, under the first Norman kings; that the council at Oxford in 1222, commanded his feast to be kept a holiday of the lesser rank; that under his name and ensign our Edward III. instituted the most noble order of knighthood in Europe; that this institution was fifty years before that of St. Michael by Louis XI. of France, eighty years before the order of the Golden Fleece by Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy, one hundred and ninety years before that of St. Andrew by James I. of Scotland, and one hundred and forty years before the order of St. George by the emperor Frederick IV.; and that “the extraordinary devotion of all Christendom to this saint is an authentic proof how glorious his triumph and name have always been in the church.” Still who was St. George?

It is related of St. George,[100] that he arrived at a city of Lybia called Sylene. Near this city was a stagnant lake or pond like a sea, wherein dwelt a dragon, who was so fierce and venomous, that he terrified and poisoned the whole country. The people therefore assembled to slay him; but when they saw him, his appearance was so horrible, that they fled. Then the dragon pursued them even to the city itself, and the inhabitants were nearly destroyed by his very breath, and suffered so much, that they were obliged to give him two sheep every day to keep him from doing them harm. At length the number of sheep became so small, that they could only give him one sheep every day, and they were obliged to give him a man instead of the other: at last, because all the men might not be eaten up, a law was made that they should draw lots to give him the youth and infants of all ranks, and so the dragon was fed with young gentlefolks and poor people’s children, till the lot fell upon the king’s daughter. Then the king was very sorry, and begged the people to take his gold and silver instead of his daughter, which the people would not accept, because it was according to his own law; and the king wept very much, and begged of the people to give the princess eight days before she should be given to the dragon to be devoured, and the people consented. And when the eight days were gone, the king caused his daughter to be richly dressed as if she were going to her bridal, and having kissed her, he gave her his blessing, and the people led her to where the dragon was. St. George had just come; when he saw the princess, and demanding why she was there, she answered, “Go your way, fair young man, that you perish not also.” Then again St. George demanded the reason of her being there, and why she wept, and endeavoured to comfort her; and when she saw he would not be satisfied, she told him. Upon this St. George promised to deliver her; but she could not believe he had power to do her so great a service, and therefore again begged him to go away. And while they were talking the dragon appeared, and began to run towards them; but St. George being on horseback, drew his sword and signed himself with the cross, and rode violently, and smiting the dragon with his spear, wounded him so sorely that he threw him down. Then St. George called to the princess, to bind her girdle about the dragon’s neck, and not to be afraid; and when she had done so, “the dragon folowed as it had been a meke beest and debonayre;” and she led him into the city, which when the people saw, they fled for fear to the mountains and vallies, till, being encouraged by St. George, they returned, and he promised to slay the dragon if they would believe and be baptized. Then the king was baptized, with upwards of 15,000 men, besides women and children, and St. George slew the dragon, and cut off his head; and the people took four carts and drew the body with oxen out of the city; and the king built a church, and dedicated it to our Lady and St. George--“This blyssyd & holy martyr saynt George, is patron of this realme of englond, & the crye of men of warre. In the worshyp of whom is founded the noble ordre of the gartre, & also a noble college in the castel of wyndsore by kynges of englonde, in whiche college is the hert of saint George, which Sygysmond the emperour of almayne[101] brought, & gave it for a grete & precyous relyke to kynge Henry the fyfth; & also the sayd Sygismond was a broder of the said garter, & also there is a pece of his heed.”

Butler informs us, that St. George, was born in Cappadocia; that he went with his mother into Palestine, of which country she was a native, where she had a considerable estate, “which fell to her son George,” who was a soldier, and became “a tribune or colonel in the army,” wherein he was further promoted by the emperor Dioclesian, to whom he resigned his commissions and posts when that emperor waged war against the christian religion, and who threw him into prison for remonstrating against bloody edicts, and caused him to be beheaded. This is all that Butler relates of him, and this on the authority of what he calls “the account given to us by Metaphrastes.” According also to Butler, St. George became the patron of the military because he had been military himself, and his apparition encouraged “the christian army in the holy war before the battle of Antioch,” which proved fortunate under Godfrey of Bouillon; and also because his apparition inspirited Richard I. in his expedition against the Saracens. “St. George,” says Butler, “is usually painted on horseback, and tilting at a dragon under his feet; but this is no more than an emblematical figure, purporting that, by his faith and christian fortitude, he conquered the devil, called the dragon in the Apocalypse.” This is very easily said, but not so easily proved, nor has Butler in any way attempted to prove it. To this assertion may be opposed the fact, that St. Michael is also represented killing a dragon; and the present writer presumes to think, that unless there be any valid objection to mounting an angel on horseback, the well-known legend of this archangel supplies the clue to the pictorial representation of St. George; or, in plain words, that St. George and the dragon are neither more nor less than St. Michael contending with the devil. Concerning this device, however, more cannot be observed without excluding curious particulars.

There are many old ballads in honour of the patron saint of England and his feat. The ballad of “St. George and the Dragon,” which is not the oldest, begins with the first and ends with the last of the following verses, and places him above sir Bevis of Hampton, and other heroes of mighty doings in our old romances.

Why should we boast of Arthur and his Knights, Knowing how many Men have performed Fights? Or why should we speak of Sir Lancelot de Lake, Of Sir Tristram du Leon, that fought for Ladies Sake? Read in old stories, and there you shall see, How St. George, St. George, he made the Dragon flee.

St. George he was for England, St. Dennis was for France; Sing Honi soit qui mal y pense.

* * * * *

Mark Anthony, I’ll warrant ye, play’d Feats with Ægypt’s Queen; Sir Eglemore, that valiant Knight, the like was never seen; Grim Gorgon’s Might was known in Fight; old Bevis most Men frighted; The Mirmidons and Prester Johns; why were not these Men knighted? Brave Spinola took in Breda, Nassau did it recover; But St. George, St. George, turn’d the Dragon over and over.

St. George he was for England, St. Dennis was for France; Sing, Honi soit qui mal y pense.[102]

This latter verse is a modern interpolation. Percy gives a purer version of the old ballad.[103]

In the romance of the “Seven Champions of Christendom,” St. George’s performances exceed that of the other champions; the ballad, bearing the same title, distinguishes him in like manner, and it is there sung, that in his fight with the dragon,

When many hardy Strokes he’d dealt, And could not pierce his Hide, He run his Sword up to the Hilt, In at the Dragon’s Side; By which he did his Life destroy, Which cheer’d the drooping King; This caus’d an universal Joy, Sweet Peals of Bells did ring.[104]

Saint George was the ancient English war-cry.[105] Shakspeare so uses it in his “Richard III.;” he makes Richmond conclude his address to his soldiery, with

Sound, drums and trumpets, bold and cheerfully, God and Saint George, Richmond and victory.

So also Richard, after he receives the news of Stanley’s defection, exclaims,

Advance our standards, set upon our foes! Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons! Upon them!

In the 10th year of king Henry VII. the Irish were prohibited from using their favourite battle-cry of Aboo, or Aber. Every native of that country was enjoined against using that word, or “other words like or otherwise contrary to the king’s laws, his crown and dignity and peace, but to call on St. George, or the name of his Sovereign Lord, the King of England, for the time being,” &c.[106] There is also this injunction to the English in an old art of war: “Item that all souldiers entering into battaile, assault, skirmish, or other faction of armes, shall have for their common cry and word, St. George forward, or, Upon them St. George, whereby the soldier is much comforted, and the enemie dismaied by calling to minde the ancient valour of England, which with that name has so often been victorious.”[107] So much for the present concerning St. George.

His majesty, king George IV., who was born on the 12th of August, changed the annual celebration of his birth-day, to St. George’s-day.

The mail-coaches, according to annual custom on the king’s birth-day, go in procession from Millbank to Lombard-street. At about twelve o’clock, the horses belonging to the different mails, with new harness, and the postmen and postboys on horseback, arrayed in their new scarlet coats and jackets, proceed from Lombard-street to Millbank, and there dine. At this place the coaches are fresh painted; from thence the procession being arranged begins to move about five o’clock in the afternoon, headed by the general postmen on horseback. The mails follow them, filled with the wives and children, friends and relations, of the coachmen and guards; while the postboys sounding their bugles and cracking their whips, bring up the rear. From the commencement of the procession, the bells of the different churches ring out merrily, and continue their rejoicing peals till it arrives at the General Post-office in Lombard-street, from whence they sparkle abroad to all parts of the kingdom. Great crowds assemble to witness the cavalcade as it passes through the principal streets of the metropolis, viz. Parliament-street, the Strand, Fleet-street, Ludgate-hill, St. Paul’s church-yard, and Cheapside. The clean and cheerful appearance of the coachmen and guards, each with a large bouquet of flowers in his bright scarlet coat, the beauty of the cattle, and the general excellence of the equipment, present a most agreeable spectacle to every eye and mind, that can be gratified by seeing and reflecting on the advantages derived to trade and social intercourse by this magnificent establishment.

On the same day the Society of Antiquaries, by their charter of incorporation, meet at their apartments in Somerset-place, to elect a president, council, and other officers for the year ensuing, and dine together, according to annual custom.

CHRONOLOGY.

1616. Miguel Cervantes de Saavedra, the celebrated Spanish author, died. Cervantes was born in 1549; he is best known in England by his “Don Quixote,” which has rendered him popular throughout Europe.

1616. On the same day with Cervantes in Spain, Shakspeare died in England. It was the anniversary of his birth-day, whereon he had completed the fifty-second year of his age. Who is qualified to praise him, whose supereminent genius all men acknowledge and reverence? To his greatness he added a quality it is seldom allied with. “No man had ever fewer enemies alive or dead; and this is the more remarkable as he was himself prone to parody, and must therefore have mortified many of his contemporaries.”[108]

Goodness and he fill up one monument.

Shakspeare’s Jest Book.

Under this title a book was reprinted in 1815, from one lately discovered bearing the title of

¶ A. C. Mery Talys.

Referring to the preface of the reprint for its value in support of the opinion corroborated by other reprints, that Shakspeare was destitute of the learning attributed to him by some writers, an extract (with the spelling modernized) is taken from it as a specimen of the wit, and morals which amused our ancestors.

Of the woman that followed her fourth husband’s bier and wept.

A woman there was which had four husbands. It fortuned also that her fourth husband died and was brought to church upon the bier, whom this woman followed, and made great moan, and waxed very sorry, insomuch that her neighbours thought she would swoon and die for sorrow; wherefore one of her gossips came to her and spake to her in her ear, and bade her for God’s sake comfort herself and refrain that lamentation, or else it would hurt her, and peradventure put her in jeopardy of her life. To whom this woman answered and said “I wys good gossip I have great cause to mourn if ye knew all, for I have buried three husbands beside this man, but I was never in the case that I am now, for there was not one of them but when that I followed the corse to church, yet I was sure of another husband, before the corse came out of my house; and now I am sure of no other husband, and therefore ye may be sure I have great cause to be sad and heavy.”

By this tale ye may see, that the old proverb is true, that it is as great a pity to see a woman weep, as a goose to go barefoot.

If the moral deduced by the story-teller from the tale just related is satirical on the sex, it should be remembered, that he wrote at a period when jokes were homely, and less felt than in our refined times. To talk now of “no joke like a true joke” is scarcely passable, unless the application be in itself true, and then it is no longer a joke.

WIND.

A resident on the banks of the Thames at Kingston observes, that when the swan flies any distance against the wind, however serene and fine the weather may appear, a wind, amounting almost to a hurricane, is always certain to ensue within twenty-four hours afterwards, and generally within twelve. If they fly with the wind, which rarely occurs, it seems to be merely for their amusement, or for reaching some certain spot in a quicker way than floating down the tide, and in this case no change takes place. The gale is usually unaccompanied by wet, though sometimes a heavy shower will be brought up with it.[109]

RAIN.

According to our old works on husbandry, we have many prognostics of rain from the motions of animals. One of them observes thus: “In a herd of cows, as they are on their march towards their pastures in a morning, if the bull lead the van, and keep back his company that they go not before him, it is a prognostic of rainy or tempestuous weather; but if he be careless and let them go at random, the contrary. Or if they eat more than ordinary, or lick their hoofs all about, rain follows forthwith. If they run to and fro, flinging and kicking, and extending their tails, tempests usually follow.”[110]

The same writer says that, “If the swallow fly low, and near the waters, it presageth rain: the coming of the swallow is a true presage of the spring.” It has been already remarked, that the 15th of April, from the usual appearance of this remarkable bird about that time, is called “swallow-day.”

The preceding engraving is copied from one which illustrates a scientific and agreeable investigation concerning the harbinger of spring, by Dr. Forster; from which dissertation the following interesting particulars are also derived.[111]

The swallow makes its first appearance in Great Britain, early in spring; remains with us during summer, and disappears in autumn. The four species which inhabit this island, are also found during summer, in almost every other region in Europe and Asia, where their manners and habits are nearly the same as in this country. In the more southern parts of the Continent, they appear somewhat earlier than in England. The distinguishing marks of the swallow tribe are--a small bill; a wide mouth; a head rather large in proportion to the bulk of the body, and somewhat flattish; a neck scarcely visible; a short, broad, and cloven tongue; a tail mostly forked; short legs; very long wings; a rapid and continued flight.

The house or Chimney Swallow, hirundo rustica, (figured above) is the most common, as well as the best known. Its length is about six inches, its breadth from tip to tip of the wings, when extended, about twelve inches; the upper parts of its body and wings are black; the under parts whitish ash-colour; the head black; the forehead and chin marked with a red spot; the tail very much forked. It generally arrives earlier than the rest of its genus, and mostly before the middle of April. It builds its nest in chimnies, at the distance of about a foot from the top, or under the roofs of barns and outhouses, has commonly two broods in the year, and usually disappears in the latter end of September, or beginning of October. Like all birds of the swallow tribe, it is perpetually on the wing, and lives upon insects, which it catches flying. It has been calculated from the velocity of this bird on the wing, and its flight in the air for fourteen or fifteen hours together, in search of food, that it flies from two to three hundred miles in that time. As previously observed by an early writer, before rain it may often be seen skimming round the edge of a lake or river, and not unfrequently dipping the tips of its wings, or under part of its body into the water, as it passes over its surface. Dr. Forster cites Aratus and Virgil in corroboration, that ancient authors had observed the same fact. He describes the Martin, or Martlett, hirundo urbica, as being rather less than the swallow, and as easily distinguishable from it, by the bright white colour of all the under parts of the body. This species usually makes its first appearance early in May, though sometimes sooner, and leaves us towards the latter end of October. It builds under the eaves of houses, in crags of rocks and precipices near the sea, has oftentimes three broods in the year, and constructs its curious nest like that of the swallow, with mud and straw, lined with feathers on the inside. He says that the Swift, hirundo apus, is the largest of the genus, being seven inches in length, and nearly eighteen in breadth, when its wings are extended, and that it is of a sooty black colour, with a whitish spot on its breast. It arrives towards the middle of May, and departs about the middle of August. It builds in holes of rocks, in ruined towers, and under the tiling of houses; and has only one brood in the year. He observes of the Bank or Sand Martin, hirundo riparia, that it is the smallest of the genus, is of a dusky brown colour above, and whitish beneath; and that it builds its nest in holes, which it bores in banks of sand, and is said to have only one brood in the year.

No subject has more engaged the attention of naturalists, in all ages, than the brumal retreat of the swallow; neither is there any subject on which more various and contrary opinions have been entertained. Some have supposed that they retire at the approach of winter to the inmost recesses of rocks and mountains, and that they there remain in a torpid state until spring. Others have conjectured that these birds immerse themselves in the water at the approach of winter, and that they remain at the bottom in a state of torpidity, until they are again called forth by the influence of the vernal sun. Dr. Forster admits that there are several instances on record of their having been found in such situations, clustered together in great numbers, and that, on being brought before the fire, they have revived and flown away. But he thinks that few of the accounts were well authenticated; and that the celebrated John Hunter and Mr. Pearson clearly prove, from various experiments, that these birds cannot continue long under water without being drowned. The doctor does not deny that swallows have occasionally been found under water; but he attributes their having been found in such situations to mere accident. As it is well known that, towards the latter end of autumn, swallows frequently roost by the sides of lakes and rivers; he therefore supposes that a number of these birds had retired to roost on the banks of some shallow and muddy river at low tide; that they had been induced by the cold to creep among the reeds or rushes which might grow in the shallow parts of the river, and that while in that situation, driven into a state of torpidity by the cold, they had been overwhelmed, and perhaps washed into the current, by the coming in of the tide. He alludes to occasional instances of other birds besides swallows having been found in a state of torpor during winter, and imagines that fishermen had availed themselves of the coming in of the tide to catch fish, and that the swallows, before supposed to have been carried into the current, coming in contact with their nets, were consequently drawn out by them, and, not having been long under water, were not completely drowned. There are several circumstances which seem to favour the opinion, that these birds remain concealed during winter in this country. Among others, the most striking is, that swallows, hirundines rusticae, as well as martins, hirundines urbicae, have sometimes appeared very late in autumn, a considerable time after they were all supposed to have taken their departure; and that they have likewise been found concealed in the crevices of rocks, in holes of old decayed trees, in old ruined towers, and under the thatch of houses. Dr. Forster further presumes, that those birds, which have been found in a state of torpidity, had, owing to some accident, been hatched later in the year than ordinary, and consequently had not acquired sufficient strength to undergo the fatigue of a long journey upon the wing, at the time when the migration of the rest of their species took place; and that to shelter themselves from the inclemency of the weather, they had sought retreats wherein, from cold and hunger, they had sunk into a state of torpidity. “For several years past,” says Dr. Forster, “I have observed that chimney swallows have appeared first in cold weather. I have sometimes seen them as early as April the 2d, when the mercury in the thermometer has been below the freezing point. On the other hand, I have often taken notice, that during a continuance of mild weather for the space of a fortnight, in the month of April, not so much as one swallow has appeared.” He remarks, that towards the latter end of September, swallows, as well as martins, congregate in great numbers, and are frequently seen sitting on the tops of houses, and on rocks near the sea. These meetings usually continue for several days, after which they suddenly disappear. They seldom perch on trees, except in autumn, shortly previous to their disappearance, and they then choose dead trees in preference. They sometimes sit on trees earlier in summer, when the weather has been very cold.

Swifts begin to assemble in large bodies previous to their departure, early in July: their numbers daily increase, and they soar higher in the air, with shriller cries, and fly differently from their usual mode. Such meetings continue till towards the middle of August, after which they are seldom seen. Sand martins likewise flock together in autumn. Some years ago they appeared in great numbers in London and its neighbourhood. Dr. Forster clearly shows that swallows are birds of passage, and produces the accounts of mariners, who had seen these birds many hundred miles out at sea, and on whose ships they had alighted to rest, almost exhausted with fatigue and hunger. By this means we may be enabled, in some measure, to determine to what quarter of the globe they retire, when they leave Europe in autumn. Adanson, in his “Voyage to Senegal,” relates, that on the 6th of October, being about fifty leagues from the coast, between the island of Goree and Senegal, four swallows alighted on the shrouds of his ship, which he easily caught, and knew to be European swallows. He adds, that they never appear at Senegal, until the winter season, and that they do not build nests as in Europe, but roost every night on the sand by the sea shore. Sir Charles Wager, first lord of the admiralty, relates, that in one of his voyages home, as he came into soundings of our channel, a great flock of swallows settled on his rigging: every rope was covered with them: they hung on one another like a swarm of bees: the decks and carvings were filled with them: they seemed spent and famished, and, to use his own expression, were only feathers and bones; but, recruited with a night’s rest, they resumed their flight in the morning. A similar circumstance happened to captain Wright, in a voyage from Philadelphia to London.

There are many anecdotes of sagacity in these birds. For several years some swallows had built their mud habitations in the window frames of a house at Beaumaris, in Anglesea. These dry, comfortable, and protected abodes, were envied by the less favoured sparrows of the same place, who embraced the opportunity (while the unsuspected swallows were skimming o’er the wide bosom of the main) and confidently took possession, thinking also to establish an undoubted settlement by depositing their eggs; the swallows finding their rightful mansions engrossed by other tenants, seemed reconciled to the ejectment; but to the astonishment of the lady residing in the house, no sooner had the sparrows hatched their young, than the swallows gathered all their forces and plastered up the entrance of the nest containing the old sparrow and her brood, where they perished.

In most parts of the country, martins and swallows are considered sacred birds, and to kill one is deemed a greater sin than the killing of other equally harmless birds. Children of all ages in the counties of Berks, Buckingham, and Oxford, repeat the following couplet, which if not taught, is always sanctioned by their parents:

The Martin and the Swallow, Are God Almighty’s birds to hollow.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Harebell. Hyacinthus non scriptus. Dedicated to St. George.

[100] In the Golden Legend.

[101] Germany.

[102] Collection of Old Ballads, 3 vols.

[103] In his Reliques.

[104] Coll. Old ballads.

[105] Fosbroke’s Dict. Antiq., Crabbe’s Techn. Dict.

[106] Brady’s Clavis Coll.

[107] Nare’s Glossary, from Warton, &c. which Glossary also see further concerning St. George.

[108] Mr. Gifford, Life of Ben Jonson.

[109] Athenæum.

[110] Worlidge’s Mystery of Husbandry.

[111] Observations on the Brumal Retreat of the Swallow, by Thos. Forster, F. L. S. &c. fifth edit. 1817 8vo.

~April 24.~

St. Fidelis. St. Mellitus, Abp. of Canterbury, A. D. 624. _Sts. Bona_, or Beuve, A. D. 673, and Doda, Abbesses. B. Robert, Abbot, A. D. 1067.

St. Fidelis.

According to Butler this saint was a missionary among the Calvinists in Switzerland, was killed by their soldiers in 1622, he and his relics worked three hundred and five miracles, and he was canonized in 1729 by pope Benedict XIII.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Blackthorn. Prunus Spinosa. Dedicated to St. Fidelis.

~April 25.~

St. Mark, Evangelist. St. Macull, or Macallius, or Maughold, 5th Cent. St. Anianus. St. Phœbadius, or Fiari, Bp. A. D. 392. St. Ivia, or Ivo, Bp. 7th Cent. St. Kebius, Bp. 4th Cent.

St. Mark.

Mr. Audley says, “It is generally allowed, that Mark, mentioned i Pet. v. 13. is the Evangelist, but it has been doubted whether he be the same as John Mark, mentioned in the Acts, and in some of Paul’s epistles. Dr. Lardner thinks there is but one Mark in the New Testament, John Mark, the evangelist, and fellow-labourer of Paul, Barnabas and Peter. He was the son of Mary, a pious woman of Jerusalem, at whose house the disciples used to meet. It is not known at what period Mark became a follower of Christ. His gospel was probably written about the year 63 or 64, and it has been said, that Mark going into Egypt first preached the gospel which he had written, and planted there many churches. He does appear to have been a martyr; but died in the eighth year of Nero, and was buried at Alexandria.” Butler says, “It is certain that he was appointed by St. Peter, bishop of Alexandria,” that he was martyred in the year 68, and that when he was discovered by his persecutors, he was “offering to God the prayer of oblation or the mass.” So that we are to believe from Butler, that there was the “mass” in Mark’s time!

St. Anianus, A. D. 86.

Alban Butler gravely quotes the “Acts of St. Mark” to acquaint us that St. Anianus, whom he calls the second bishop of Alexandria, “was a shoemaker of that city, whose hand being wounded with an awl, St. Mark healed when he first entered the city: such was his fervour and progress in virtue and learning, that St. Mark constituted him bishop of Alexandria during his absence; and Anianus governed that great church four years with him, and eighteen years and seven months after his death.” Robinson lowers the inflation of Butler’s language by stating that Mark, as he was walking in Alexandria, “burst the stitching of his shoe, so that he could not proceed till it was repaired; the nearest cobler was the man; he mended the shoe or sandal, or whatever it was; the man was taught the gospel by Mark; he taught others; and this was the first pontiff of Alexandria, that is, the first regular teacher of a few poor people at Alexandria, who peradventure had no other cathedral than a garret: a teacher of primitive christianity is not to be confounded with a patriarch of Alexandria.”[112] This is a very different picture from that of the “great church” represented by Butler. In truth, the early christian pastors were poor and lowly men, and hence the ideas we affix to the denominations which they and their flocks receive from catholic writers should be derived from plain common-sense views of their real situations, so far as they can be ascertained.

SHOES AND SANDALS.

Shoes or slippers were worn in the East, but sandals, which leave the toes bare, very seldom. The Egyptians made their shoes of papyrus or palm leaves. The Greeks and Romans of both sexes wore rich sandals of gold, silk, or other precious stuffs; the soles were of cork, which for that reason was called sandal wood, and they were, in general, at least one finger thick; sometimes they sewed five soles one over another. They were covered within and without with leather broader than the cork. Sandals were among the early, but not the later, Anglo-Saxons.[113]

The preceding cut is of a “very curious sandal,” in three different views, from one made of leather, partly gilt, and variously coloured. It was formerly in the possession of Mr. Bailey, leather-stainer, Little Wild-street, Drury-lane, and afterwards in that of Mr. Samuel Ireland, of Norfolk-street, by whose permission, an engraving on copper was made by Mr. J. T. Smith, of the British Museum, and from this the present representation is given. The age of the sandal is not by the writer determinable, but as a remarkable relic of antiquity, its form and make deserve preservation. It will be observed, that it belonged to the left foot of the wearer; so that if other evidence could not be adduced, this is proof that “rights and lefts” are only “an old, old, very old” fashion revived.

The shoes of Bernard, king of Italy, found in his tomb, were “right and left:” the soles were of wood, the upper part red leather, laced with thongs, and they fitted so closely, that the order of the toes, terminating in a point at the great toe, might easily be discovered.[114] Stubbs, the satirist in Shakspeare’s time, describes cork shoes or pantofles, (slippers) as bearing up their wearers two inches or more from the ground; as of various colours, and raised, carved, cut, or stitched; as frequently made of velvet, embroidered with the precious metals; and when fastened with strings, covered with enormous and valuable roses of ribband curiously ornamented. “It is remarkable that, as in the present age, both shoes and slippers were worn shaped after the right and left foot. Shakespeare describes his smith as

‘Standing on slippers, which his nimble haste Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet:--’

and Scott, in his ‘Discoverie of Witchcraft,’ observes, that he who receiveth a mischance ‘will consider, whether he put not on his shirt wrong side outwards, or his left shoe on his right foot.’”[115]

Some light may be thrown on the engraving by an extract from an heraldic writer: “He beareth or, two sandals sable, buckles or tyes argent. This was the ancient way of securing the feet of travellers from the hardness of the country passage; and consisted of nothing else but a sole, (either of leather or wood) to which was made fast 2 or 3 tyes or latches which was buckled on the top of the foot; the better sort adorned these latches with imbrauthered (embroidered) work, and set them with stones.” Whence it appears that the engraving represents such a sandal “of the better sort.” The same author mentions three sandals sable, buckled and adorned or, on a field azure “borne by Palmer.”[116] Ladies may be amused by looking at the form, as placed before his readers, of a shoe which the author just cited says was “of the gentest (genteelest) fashion” of his time.

This was the fashion that beautified the feet of the fair in the reign of king William and queen Mary. The old “Deputy for the kings of arms” is minutely diffuse on the “gentle craft:” he engraves the form of “a pair of wedges,” which he says “is to raise up a shooe in the instep when it is too straight for the top of the foot;” and thus compassionates ladies’ sufferings.--“Shoomakers love to put ladies in their stocks; but these wedges, like merciful justices upon complaint, soon do ease and deliver them.” If the eye turns to the cut--to the cut of the sole, with the “line of beauty” adapted by the cunning workman’s skill to stilt the female foot--if the reader behold that association, let wonder cease, that a venerable master in coat-armour should bend his quarterings to the quartering of a lady’s shoe, and forgetful of heraldic forms, condescend from his “high estate” to the use of similitudes.

EASTER.

The difference of opinion respecting the true time of Easter, in the year 1825, and the explanation at p. 416 of the error at p. 190, as to the rule for finding this feast have occasioned various letters to the editor, from which he selects three, in order to further elucidate and close the subject. The first is a lively introduction.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

In your fourteenth number, you accuse the almanac-makers of having thought good to fix Easter-day on the 3rd of April instead of the 10th, on which day, you say, according to the act of parliament and the rubric of the church, Easter-day ought to be celebrated. This statement is calculated to “unsettle the faith of thousands in their almanac-maker;” for, sure enough, the almanac-maker appears to have made Easter-day fall on the day of the full moon, instead of the week after; I therefore fully acquit you of all intention to mislead your readers, and slander the almanac-maker; and yet you most certainly have done both from not sufficiently taking into your consideration the omnipotence of parliament, especially in astronomical matters. You may possibly recollect, that, even a few years back, parliament, for the purpose I think of protecting game from poachers, declared that night should commence, during the summer month, before the sun thought proper to set. Now, in defiance of those matter-of-fact gentlemen, the almanac-makers, the act of parliament for the uniformity of worship, has this year appointed the paschal full moon for the 2d of April instead of the 3rd, and thereby converted the 3rd into Easter Sunday. The statute of 14 Car. II. says nothing about Easter Sunday, but it orders the Book of Common Prayer to be joined and annexed to the act, so that the rubric has the force and omnipotence of an act of parliament to alter the course of the moon, and to regulate its wane and increase.

The rubric exercises this power, by compelling you to look out for the full moon in certain tables of its own concocting, and does not allow you to consult the almanac. The paschal full moon must be ascertained by discovering the golden number of the year, (for which a rule is given,) and the day set next that Golden Number (in the table before-mentioned,) is, by the omnipotence of parliament, declared to be the full moon day. The Golden Number for the present year is according to the rule 2, and the day fixed against that number is April 2d, and is therefore the paschal full moon in spite of the almanac-makers. The full moon being fixed thus by government, Easter-day is ascertained by finding the Sunday letter by another rule, according to which B is the Sunday letter for the present year, and the day of the month affixed to the first B, after the act of parliament full moon, is Easter Sunday; unluckily this letter B has chanced to fall upon the almanac-maker’s full moon, viz. the 3rd of April, but surely you are too reasonable a man to blame them for that: remember, however loyal they may be, they cannot compel the sun to set at eight o’clock on the longest day, nor persuade the moon to attain her full a moment before it pleases her variable ladyship.

I am, sir,

Your much amused, and constant reader,

CAUSIDICUS.

* * * * *

The next communication is in further support of the almanac-maker’s Easter.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

It appears the author of the article “Easter,” in the Every-Day Book, p. 416, thinks the almanac-makers wrong in fixing Easter Sunday, for 1825, on the 3rd of April, when the full moon took place at 6 h. 23 m. in the morning of that very day. He probably was not aware, that the astronomical day commences at 12 at noon, and ends the next noon. The 2d of April (as an astronomical day,) commenced on the Saturday, and ended on the Sunday at noon. The festivals being regulated according to this astronomical division of time, it follows that the almanac-makers were correct in considering the full moon to take place on Saturday, the 2d of April, and in fixing Easter Sunday for the 3rd of April. I trust you will find it worth while to insert this correction of your statement, from

A CONSTANT READER.

* * * * *

To the latter correspondent’s observations, this answer has been received from the gentleman to whom it became the editor’s duty to transmit it for consideration.

For the Every-Day Book.

The object of those who fixed the day for the celebration of Easter, was to prevent the full moon being on the Sunday on which the offices for the Resurrection were to be performed, and the custom of astronomers has nothing to do with the question. The full moon according to them might be on the twenty-third hour of the Saturday, but this would be eleven o’clock of Saturday, at which time the Romish and English churches would be performing the offices of the Resurrection; this was the point to be avoided, and this is done by the ecclesiastical canon and the act of parliament.

THE AUTHOR OF THE ARTICLE ON EASTER.

In this correspondence Easter is disposed of. The rubric clearly states the rule for finding the festival, and the last letter represents the ground whereon it was deemed expedient that the church should celebrate it according to that rule.

CHRONOLOGY.

1595. Torquatus Tasso, the poet, died at Rome. He was born, in 1544, at Sorrento in Naples, wrote verses at nine years of age, became a student at law, and composed the “Rinaldo” at seventeen. Although his celebrated epic “Jerusalem Delivered” is that whereon his poetical fame is chiefly grounded, yet his “Aminta,” and other pieces are rich in fancy and beautiful in style; he was also excellent in prose. The most remarkable feature in his character was a hopeless passion for the princess Eleanora, sister of the duke of Ferrara, that he conceived early in life, and nourished till his death.

1800. William Cowper, the poet, died at Dereham, in Norfolk; he was born November, 26, 1731, at Berkhamstead, in Hertfordshire. When a child he was shy and diffident. “His own forcible expression,” says Hayley, “represented him at Westminster-school as not daring to raise his eye above the shoe-buckle of the elder boys, who were too apt to tyrannize over his gentle spirit.” Fear of personal publicity increased with his years. At thirty-one it was necessary that he should appear at the bar of the House of Lords, to entitle himself to the appointment of clerk of the journals which had been obtained for him, he was incapable of the effort, his terror overwhelmed his reason, and he was subjected to confinement till his faculties recovered. Morbid glooms and horrors of the imagination clouded his mind throughout life, and he more than once attempted self-destruction. When not subjected to these dreadful affections he was cheerful and amiable. Innocence of heart and extreme modesty were the most remarkable features in his character. His poetry is in the hands of every body; its popularity is the best praise of its high merits. He was enabled by his fortune to indulge his love of retirement, surrounded by a few friends whom he ardently loved. He speaks of himself, in a letter to Mr. Park, so as to exemplify his usual habits--“From the age of twenty to thirty-three I was occupied, or ought to have been, in the study of the law; from thirty-three to sixty I have spent my time in the country, where my reading has been only an apology for idleness, and where, when I had not either a magazine or a review, I was sometimes a carpenter, at others a birdcage maker, or a gardener, or a drawer of landscapes. At fifty years of age I commenced an author:--it is a whim that has served me longest and best, and will probably be my last.” A little volume entitled the “Rural Walks of Cowper,” illustrates his attachment to the country, by a series of fifteen views from drawings made and engraved by Mr. James Storer; they exemplify scenery in Cowper’s poems, with descriptive sketches; it is an agreeable assistant to every one who desires to know something of the places wherein the poet delighted to ramble or meditate. There is a natural desire to become acquainted with the countenance of a man whose writings we love or admire, and the spots that were associated with his feelings and genius. Who can read Cowper’s letter to his friend Hill, descriptive of his summer-house, without wishing to walk into it? “I write in a nook that I call my boudoir; it is a summer-house not bigger than a sedan chair; the door of it opens into the garden that is now crowded with pinks, roses, and honeysuckles, and the window into my neighbour’s orchard. It formerly served an apothecary as a smoking-room; at present, however, it is dedicated to sublimer uses; here I write all that I write in summer time, whether to my friends or to the public. It is secure from all noise, and a refuge from all intrusion.” The present engraving of it is taken by Mr. Storer’s permission from his design made on the spot.

It was here, perhaps, that Cowper wrote his poem on a nightingale, that sung with a thorn in her breast, an affecting allusion to the state of his own feelings. There is another of his productions on the same “sweet bird,” whom all poets wait on, which is subjoined by way of conclusion to this brief notice of a bard honoured for his talents, and revered for his love of virtue.

TO THE NIGHTINGALE

Which the author heard sing on New Year’s Day, 1792.

Whence is it, that amaz’d I hear From yonder wither’d spray, This foremost morn of all the year, The melody of May.

And why, since thousands would be proud Of such a favour shown, Am I selected from the crowd, To witness it alone!

Sing’st thou, sweet Philomel, to me, For that I also long Have practised in the groves like thee, Though not like thee in song?

Or sing’st thou rather under force Of some divine command, Commission’d to presage a course Of happier days at hand?

Thrice welcome then! for many a long And joyless year have I, As thou to-day, put forth thy song Beneath a wintry sky.

But thee no wintry skies can harm, Who only need’st to sing, To make ev’n January charm, And ev’ry season Spring.

~St. Mark’s Day, or Eve.~

This was a great fast-day in England during the rule of the Romish church. An old writer says, that in 1589, “I being as then but a boy, do remember that an ale wife, making no exception of dayes, would needs brue upon Saint Marke’s days; but loe, the marvailous worke of God? whiles she was thus laboring, the top of the chimney tooke fire; and, before it could bee quenched, her house was quite burnt. Surely,” says this observer of sainted seasons, “a gentle warning to them that violate and profane forbidden daies.”[117] Another writer observes, that although there was not anciently any fast-day between Easter and Whitsunday, yet, besides many days in the Rogation week, the popes had devised “a monstrous fast on Saint Marke’s day.” He says, “all other fastinge daies are on the holy day Even, only Saint Marke must have his day fasted.” He asks why and by what decree of the church, or by what general council the fast was ordained? He inquires why one side of the street in Cheapside being in the diocese of London fasts on that day, and why the other side being in the diocese of Canterbury fasts not?[118]

On St. Mark’s day blessings on the corn were implored. According to a manuscript of Mr. Pennant’s, no farmer in North Wales dare hold his team on this day, because they there believe one man’s team that worked upon it was marked with the loss of an ox. A Yorkshire clergyman informed Mr. Brand, that it was customary in that county for the common people to sit and watch in the church porch on St. Mark’s Eve, from eleven o’clock at night till one in the morning. The third year (for this must be done thrice,) they are supposed to see the ghosts of all those who are to die the next year, pass by into the church. When any one sickens that is thought to have been seen in this manner, it is presently whispered about that he will not recover, for that such, or such an one, who has watched St. Mark’s Eve, says so. This superstition is in such force, that, if the patients themselves hear of it, they almost despair of recovery. Many are said to have actually died by their imaginary fears on the occasion. The terrors of the ignorant are high in proportion to the darkness wherein they grovel.

A correspondent near Peterborough, who has obliged the editor by transmitting what he denominates some “miscellaneous superstitions and shadows of customs whose origins are worn out,” includes among them the following interesting communication respecting St. Mark’s day usages in Northamptonshire.

For the Every-Day Book.

On St. Mark’s Eve, it is still a custom about us for young maidens to make the dumb cake, a mystical ceremony which has lost its origin, and in some counties may have ceased altogether. The number of the party never exceeds three; they meet in silence to make the cake, and as soon as the clock strikes twelve, they each break a portion off to eat, and when done, they walk up to bed backwards without speaking a word, for if one speaks the spell is broken. Those that are to be married see the likeness of their sweethearts hurrying after them, as if wishing to catch them before they get into bed, but the maids being apprized of this before hand, (by the cautions of old women who have tried it,) take care to unpin their clothes before they start, and are ready to slip into bed before they are caught by the pursuing shadow; if nothing is seen, the desired token may be a knocking at the doors, or a rustling in the house, as soon as they have retired. To be convinced that it comes from nothing else but the desired cause, they are always particular in turning out the cats and dogs before the ceremony begins. Those that are to die unmarried neither see nor hear any thing; but they have terrible dreams, which are sure to be of new-made graves, winding-sheets, and church-yards, and of rings that will fit no finger, or which, if they do, crumble into dust as soon as put on. There is another dumb ceremony, of eating the yolk of an egg in silence, and then filling the shell with salt, when the sweetheart is sure to make his visit in some way or other before morning. On this same night too, the more stout-hearted watch the church-porch; they go in the evening and lay in the church-porch a branch of a tree, or a flower, large enough to be readily found in the dark, and then return home to wait the approach of midnight. They are to proceed to the porch again before the clock strikes twelve, and to remain in it till it has struck; as many as choose accompany the maid, who took the flower or branch and is to fetch it again, as far as the church-gate, and there wait till their adventuring companion returns, who, if she is to be married within the year, is to see a marriage procession pass by her, with a bride in her own likeness hanging on the arm of her future husband; as many bridesmen and maidens as appear to follow them, so many months is the maid to wait before her marriage. If she is to die unmarried, then the expected procession is to be a funeral, consisting of a coffin covered with a white sheet, borne on the shoulders of shadows that seem without heads. This custom, with all its contingent “hopes and fears,” is still practised, though with what success, I am not able to determine. The imagination may be wrought to any height in such matters, and doubtless some persuade themselves that they see what the story describes. An odd character at Helpstone, whose name is Ben Barr, and whom the villagers call and believe as “the prophet,” watches the church-porch every year, and pretends to know the fate of every one in the villages round, and who shall be married or die in the year; but as a few pence, generally purchase a good omen, he seldom prophesies the deaths of his believers.

¶. ¶.

* * * * *

This “Ben Barr,” of Helpstone, must be an useful fellow to timid believers in such affairs. He seems to have created for himself a place of trust and profit; if he is only a wag he may enjoy his emoluments with his humour, and do no harm; but should he assume to foretell mischief to his believers, he is, legally speaking, a “sturdy rogue.” The seeing of supernatural sights by a paid proxy is a novelty in the annals of superstition. But if Ben Barr is the first, so he is the last of such seers. He will have no successor in office, there will be little demand for such a functionary, the income will fall off, and no one will undertake to see “Satan’s invisible world,” and warn unbelievers in ghosts, for nothing.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Clarimond Tulip. Tulipa præcox. Dedicated to St. Mark.

[112] Robinson’s Eccles. Researches, 42.

[113] Fosbroke’s Dict. Antiq.

[114] Ibid.

[115] Dr. Drake’s Shakspeare and his Times.

[116] Holme’s Acad. of Armorie.

[117] Vaughan’s Golden Grove.

[118] The burnynge of Paules Church in 1561. See Brand.

~April 26.~

St. Cletus, Pope and Martyr, A. D. 89. St. Marcellinus, Pope and Martyr, A. D. 304. St. Richarius, or Riquier, Abbot, about 645. St. Paschasius Radbert, Abbot, about 865.

CHRONOLOGY.

1716. The great lord Somers died. He was lord chancellor, and at different periods held other offices of high trust, which he ennobled by acts of distinguished virtue and patriotism: he vindicated public liberty with courage, and maintained it with success to the end of his life.

The Country.

A town life is coveted by the artificial, and praised to ecstacy by mindless minds. They who can only derive entertainment from

Shows and sights, and hateful forms,

and they who are without intellectual resources, throw themselves into the floods of the “mighty heart,” in search of refreshing pleasures. Not so he, who has tasted the “knowledge of good and evil,” and from depth of reflection welled up wisdom: he loves only what is good, and attaches himself only to what is great in his species; this is from sympathy, not contact. Silence and time are not of man’s make, and hence the wise court solitude from the wrongs and follies of surrounding beings, and enjoy a portion of their existence in contemplating the pure forms of nature. The perverted genius which preferred

“The sweet shady side Of a grove in Pall-Mall”

to rural scenery, by a little further perversion, would have preferred the groves of Moloch to the plains of Mamre.

If one would live by nature’s laws, Regardless of the world’s applause; And be desirous of a spot Whereon to build a humble cot, What situation can compare With that where purest country air Dispels the vapours and the spleen, And makes one wear a healthful mien?

Than in the country tell me where Men freer are from pining care? Where can they sounder sleep enjoy, Or time more harmlessly employ? Do marble pavements more delight, Than the green turf that cheers the sight? Or does the water of the town, From the New-river head brought down Taste sweeter than the crystal rills, That trickle down the verdant hills?

So much are rustic scenes admir’d, And rural prospects now desir’d, That in the town one often sees The houses shaded by tall trees, Which give them quite a country look, And fill with envy my lord-duke. And if a mansion can command A distant prospect o’er the land Of Hampstead, or the Surrey hills, Its site with admiration fills. Each connoisseur, with wond’ring eyes, Beholds it, and enraptur’d cries, “What charming prospect! air how free “The rus in urbe here we see.” For nature still will have her way, Let men do whatsoe’er they may. And still that pure and genuine taste, In every mind by Heav’n plac’d, Will show itself some how in part, Howe’er corrupted by vile art. Who know not silver from vile dross, Will not sustain a heavier loss Than they who truth and falsehood join, And know not where to strike the line. Whoe’er with success is elated, Will be more wretched when ill-fated; And things which mortals value most Cause greatest pain when they are lost. Let not ambition then destroy Your happiness and heart-felt joy; Contentment more true pleasure brings Than all the wealth and pomp of kings.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Yellow Erysemum. Erysemum Barbarea. Dedicated to St. Richarius.

~April 27.~

St. Anthimus, Bp. and many other Martyrs at Nicomedia, A. D. 303. St. Anastasius, Pope, A. D. 401. St. Zita, A. D. 1272.

CHRONOLOGY.

1742. Nicholas Amhurst, an English political, poetical, and miscellaneous writer, died in poverty and of a broken heart at Twickenham, at the age of thirty-six. He was author of “Terræ Filius,” a severe satire on the university of Oxford, from whence he had been expelled, and he edited the once celebrated “Craftsman,” one of the most popular journals ever printed, and the most effective of all the publications against the Walpole administration. Bolingbroke and Pulteney with whom he had been associated in the conduct of this paper, and whose interests he had promoted by his wit, learning, and knowledge, deserted him when they had attained their purposes by Walpole’s downfall. Mr. A. Chalmers concludes a memoir of him by an observation that ought to be rivetted on the mind of every man who thinks himself a public character. “The ingratitude of statesmen to the persons whom they make use of as the instruments of their ambition, should furnish an instruction to men of abilities in future times; and engage them to build their happiness on the foundation of their own personal integrity, discretion, and virtue.” Ralph the historian, in one of his pamphlets, says “Poor Amhurst, after having been the drudge of his party for the best part of twenty years together, was as much forgotten in the famous compromise of 1742, as if he had never been born! and when he died of what is called a broken heart, which happened a few months afterwards, became indebted to the charity of (Richard Francklin) a bookseller for a grave; not to be traced now, because then no otherwise to be distinguished, than by the freshness of the turf, borrowed from the next common to cover it.”

There is an order Of mortals on the earth, who do become Old in their youth, and die ere middle age, Without the violence of warlike death; Some perishing of pleasure--some of study-- Some worn with toil--some of mere weariness-- Some of disease--and some insanity-- And some of withered, or of broken hearts; For this last is a malady which slays More than are numbered in the lists of Fate, Taking all shapes, and bearing many names.

Byron

1785. Prince Leopold of Brunswick, was drowned by the waters of Frankfort upon the Oder, in endeavouring to succour the inhabitants of a village which was overflowed.

1794. Sir William Jones died, aged forty-eight.

1794. James Bruce, the traveller into Abyssinia, died by falling down the stairs of his own house. He was born at Kinnaird, in Stirlingshire, North Britain, 1730. His veracity, defamed in his lifetime, has been supported by every subsequent information concerning the regions he visited.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Great Daffodil. Narcissus major. Dedicated to St. Anastasius.

~April 28.~

St. Vitalis, Martyr, about 62. Sts. Didymus and Theodora, A. D. 304. St. Patricius, Bp. of Prussia, in Bithynia, Martyr.

CHRONOLOGY.

1535. Albert Pio, prince of Carpi, was buried with extraordinary pomp in the church of the Cordeliers at Paris. He had been deprived of his principality by the duke of Ferrara, became an author, and finally a fanatic. Entering one day into one of the churches at Madrid, he presented holy water to a lady who had a very thin hand ornamented by a most beautiful and valuable ring. He exclaimed in a loud voice as she reached the water, “Madam, I admire the ring more than the hand.” The lady instantly exclaimed with reference to the cordon with which he was decorated, “And for my part, I admire the halter more than I do the ass.” He was buried in the habit of a Cordelier, and Erasmus made a satire upon the circumstance, entitled the “Seraphic Interment.”

1772. The counts Struensee, the Danish prime minister, and Brandt, the favourite of the king of Denmark, were executed opposite the eastern gate of Copenhagen. Their alleged crime was an intrigue with the queen of Denmark, the princess Carolina Matilda of England, sister to king George III., on whose entreaty she was removed from confinement in the castle of Cronenburg to Zell in the electorate of Hanover, where she died about three years afterwards.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Cuckoo Pink. Arum Maculatum. Dedicated to Sts. Didymus and Theodora.

~April 29.~

St. Peter, Martyr, A. D. 1252. St. Robert, Abbot of Molesme, A. D. 1110. St. Hugh, Abbot of Cluni, A. D. 1109. St. Fiachna, A. D. 630.

CHRONOLOGY.

1779. Died at Pershore in Worcestershire, the Rev. John Ash, L.L. D. He was an eminent minister among the dissenters, but is better known for his grammar and other works in philology. His “Complete English Dictionary,” until the appearance of Mr. Todd’s octavo edition of Johnson’s, was the best compendium of words that could be referred to, and may still be consulted with advantage by the student.

1822. Sir Isaac Heard, garter principal king at arms, died aged ninety-one. He was a good herald and an amiable man.

A Morning in Spring.

The dawn now breaks, the dews arise, And zephyrs fan the waving hill; The low’ring clouds begin to rise, And chilly vapours blot the skies O’er neighb’ring woods the golden ray Emits the blush of op’ning day: The flocks, that leave the verdant brake, The dew-drops from their fleeces shake: The lawns, with gems besprinkled shine; The spider weaves his silky line; The cowslip, mark’d with spots of gold And daisies, all their hues unfold; The violets, more modest, shade Their odours in the silent glade; The early lark now wings her flight, And gaily soars beyond the sight; The tender linnet, and the thrush, Resound from ev’ry dripping bush, And finches, perch’d on many a spray, With dulcet sounds proclaim the day; The housewife now prepares to bake The kneaded bread, or homely cake; Or sets the milk, or tends the race That haunts her yard, or kitchen grace. When nature clothes the various scene With tufts of flow’rs, and robes of green; When limpid streams their lustres give, And health, and glad contentment live With lovely nymphs and happy swains, In humble cots, or tranquil plains, I bless her bounties, and I raise My artless theme to sounds of praise. While others seek for wealth and pow’r, Let me enjoy the sober hour Which converse, or which books bestow, To soothe the heart, and blunt its woe!

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Herb Robert. Geranium Robertianum. Dedicated to St. Robert.

~April 30.~

St. Catharine of Sienna, A. D. 1380. St. Maximus, A. D. 250. Sts. James, Marian, &c. Martyrs in Numidia, A. D. 259. St. Erkonwald, B. of London, 7th Cent. St. Ajutre or Adjutor, A. D. 1131.

St. Catharine of Sienna.

St. Catharine often saw the devil. According to Ribadeneira, at six years old she knew the lives of the holy fathers and hermits by revelation, practised abstinence, and shut herself up with other children in a room, where they whipped themselves. At seven she offered herself to the Virgin as a spouse for her son. When marriageable, she refused the importunity of her parents to wed, and having cut off her hair to keep her vow, they made her a kitchen-maid; but her father, one day as he was praying in a corner, seeing the Holy Ghost sitting upon her head in the shape of a dove, she was released from drudgery, and was favoured with a revelation from St. Dominick. She eat no meat, drank only water, and at last left off bread, sustaining herself by herbs alone, and her grace before meals was, “Let us go take the punishment due to this miserable sinner.” She so mastered sleep, that she scarcely took any rest, and her bed was only boards. She wore around her body next to the skin a chain of iron, which sunk into her flesh. Three times a day, and for an hour and a half each time, she flogged herself with another iron chain, till great streams of blood ran down; and when she took the black and white habit of the order of St. Dominick she increased her mortification. For three years she never spoke, except at confession; never stirred out of her cell but to go to the church; and sat up all night watching--taking rest in the quire at matins only, and then lying upon the floor with a piece of wood under her head for a bolster. She was tempted by devils in a strange manner described by Ribadeneira: but to drive them away, she disciplined her body with the iron chain so much the more. When the fiend perceived he could make no impression on her virginal heart, he changed his battery. She had undertaken to cure an old woman who had a cancer in her breast so loathsome, that no one would go near her, but by the devil’s instigation, the old woman gave out that Catharine was not as good as she should be, and stuck to her point. Catharine, knowing the devil’s tricks, would not desist; and, to do her honour, Christ appeared, and offered to her the choice of two crowns--one of pure gold, the other of thorns; she took the crown of thorns, pressed it so close upon her head, that it gave her great pain; and Christ commanded her to continue her attendance upon the woman, who, in consequence of a vision, confessed her calumny, to the great confusion of the devil. Ribadeneira says that after this, Christ appeared to her, “opened to her the wound in his side, and made her drink till she was so ravished, that her soul was deprived of its functions.” Her love and affection to Christ were so intense, that she was almost always languishing and sick; at last it took away her life, and she was dead for four hours, in which time she saw strange things concerning heaven, hell, and purgatory. On a certain day he appeared to her, with his mother and other saints, and espoused her in a marvellous and singular manner; visited her almost continually with the greatest familiarity and affection, sometimes in their company, though ordinarily he came alone, and entertained her by reciting and singing psalms with her. Once as she was coming home from church, he appeared to her in the disguise of a pilgrim, and begged a coat of her; she returned to the church, and secretly taking off her petticoat, brought it to him, not knowing who he was. He asked her for a shirt; she bade him follow her home, and she gave him her shift. Not content with this, he requested more clothes of her, as well for himself as a companion; but as she had nothing else left, and was much afflicted, in the night, he appeared to her as the pilgrim, and showing her what she had bestowed upon him in the garb he had assumed, promised to give her an invisible garment, which should keep her from all cold both of body and soul. One time she prayed to him to take from her her heart of flesh, and it seemed to her that he came, and opening her side, took out her heart, and carried it away with him. It appeared almost incredible to her confessor when she told him she had no heart; “Yet,” says Ribadeneira, “that which happened afterwards was a certain argument of the truth; for, in a few days, Christ appeared to her in great brightness, holding in his hand a ruddy heart, most beautiful to behold, and coming to her, put it into her left side, and said, ‘My daughter Catharine, now thou hast my heart instead of thy own;’ and having said this, he closed up her side again, in proof whereof a scar remained in her side, which she often showed.” By her influence with heaven, she obtained forgiveness for numbers that were ready to fall into hell. Two hardened and impenitent thieves, being led to execution, and tied and tortured on a cart, were attended by a multitude of devils. Catharine begged the favour of going with them in the cart to the city gates, and there by her prayers and intercession, Christ showed himself to the thieves, all bloody and full of wounds, invited them to penance, and promised them pardon if they would repent, which they accordingly did. Through her intercession, her mother, who died without confession, was raised to life again, and lived till she was fourscore and nine years old. She had the gift of prophecy, healed the sick at the last gasp, cast out devils, and worked miracles. Once making bread of tainted flour, the “queen of angels” came to help her to knead it, and it proved to be most excellent bread, white and savoury. She drew also very good wine out of an empty hogshead. Her numerous victories over the devil enraged him so much, that he tormented her till she was nothing but skin and bones. Sometimes he amused himself with throwing her into the fire, and the marks and prints of the wounds he gave her, appeared all over her body. “At length,” says Ribadeneira, “when she was three and thirty years old, she entered into an agony, fought the devil valiantly, and triumphed over him at her death, which happened at Rome on the 29th of April, 1380, her ghost appearing to Father Raymundus, her confessor, at Genoa, on the same day, and her body working so many miracles, that for the multitude of people resorting thither, it could not be buried for three days.” All this may be seen in Ribadeneira’s “Lives of the Saints,” with more, which, from regard to the reader’s feelings, is not even adverted to. It should be added, that the present particulars are from the “Miraculous Host,” a pamphlet published in 1821, in illustration of a story, said to have been used in converting two ladies belonging to the family of Mr. Loveday of Hammersmith.

THE SEASON.

With the spring comes the lark, and now she carols her rich melody from the earliest beam to the meridian of solar glory. There is no enjoyment more delicious to the ear of nature, than her aërial song in this delightful season:--

THE SKY-LARK.

O, earliest singer! O, care-charming bird, Married to Morning by a sweeter hymn Than priest e’er chaunted from his cloister dim At midnight,--or veiled virgin’s holier word At sunrise or the paler evening heard,-- To which of all Heaven’s young and lovely Hours, Who wreathe soft light in hyacinthine bowers, Beautiful Spirit, is thy suit preferred? --Unlike the creatures of this low dull earth, Still dost thou woo, although thy suit be won; And thus thy mistress bright is pleased ever. Oh! lose not thou this mark of finer birth-- So may’st thou yet live on, from sun to sun, Thy joy uncheck’d, thy sweet song silent never.

Barry Cornwall.

THE WEATHER.

To the indications respecting rain by the flight of the swallow, mentioned under April 23, should be added, that when the swallow is observed to fly high, the weather will probably be fair. There are also some other indications in a set of old rules which may be consulted; viz.

Prognostics of the Weather.

To be able to ascertain the future changes of the weather, is of infinite use to the farmer and gardener.

Animals are evidently sooner sensible of the ensuing change of the atmosphere than we are, and from their divers appearance, and apparent sensations, we may in many instances determine what changes are likely to take place.

The following maybe set down as general rules, and upon minute observation we shall find them correct.

When the raven is observed early in the morning at a great height in the air, soaring round and round, and uttering a hoarse croaking sound, we may be sure the day will be fine, and may conclude the weather is about to clear and become fair.

The loud and clamorous quackling of ducks, geese, and other water-fowl, is a sign of rain.

Before rain swine appear very uneasy, and rub in the dust, as do cocks and hens.

Before storms kine and also sheep assemble at one corner of the field, and are observed to turn all their heads toward the quarter from whence the wind doth not blow.

The appearance of sea gulls, petrels, or other sea fowl in the inlands, indicates stormy weather.

In fine weather the bat is observed to continue flying about very late of an evening.

In autumn before rain some flies bite, and others become very troublesome, and gnats are more apt to sting.

When flocks of wild geese are observed flying in a westward or southern direction in autumn, it indicates a hard winter.

The floating of gossamer, and its alighting on the rigging of ships, foretels fine weather.

The clamorous croaking of frogs indicates rainy weather.

The appearance of beetles flying about of an evening in summer, indicates that the next day will be fair.

Before rain dogs are apt to grow very sleepy and dull, and to lay all day before the fire.

Before rain moles throw up the earth more than usual.

The appearance of rare foreign birds in this country, such as rollers, hoopoos, &c. indicates hard weather.

When spiders are seen crawling on the walls more than usual, rain will probably ensue.

The much barking of dogs in the night frequently indicates a change in the weather.

When the trees and hedges are very full of berries, it indicates a hard winter.

The abundance of woodseare and honeydew on herbs indicates fair weather, as does floating gossamer.

It is said in Wiltshire, that the dunpickles or moor buzzards alight in great numbers on the downs before rain.

Before storms the missel thrush is observed to sing particularly loud, and to continue so till the commencement of the rain; from which circumstance it is in some places called the storm cock.

It is a sign of rain when pigeons return slowly to the dovehouses.

When bees do not go out as usual, but keep in or about their hives, rain may be expected.

Before wind, swine run squeaking about as though they were mad; which has given rise to the notion that pigs can see the wind.

Before rain the pintados called comebacks squall more than usual; as do peacocks.

The early appearance of woodcocks, snipes, swinepipes, fieldfares, &c. are prognostications of severe winters.

When the dew lies plenteously upon the grass in the evening, the next day will probably be fine; when there is little or no dew, probably wet.

Dr. Forster observes, on the authority of Virgil, “that the blowing about of feathers, or any light substances on the water, is also a sign of rain.”

SPRING.

In the “Indicator” Mr. Leigh Hunt discourses of this beautiful season with his usual grace. He says--

“The spring is now complete. The winds have done their work. The shaken air, well tempered and equalized, has subsided; the genial rains, however thickly they may come, do not saturate the ground, beyond the power of the sun to dry it up again. There are clear crystal mornings; noons of blue sky and white cloud; nights, in which the growing moon seems to lie looking at the stars, like a young shepherdess at her flock.

“Then the young green. This is the most apt and perfect mark of the season,--the true issuing forth of the spring. The trees and bushes are putting forth their crisp fans; the lilac is loaded with bud; the meadows are thick with the bright young grass, running into sweeps of white and gold with the daisies and buttercups. The orchards announce their riches, in a shower of silver blossoms. The earth in fertile woods is spread with yellow and blue carpets of primroses, violets, and hyacinths, over which the birch-trees, like stooping nymphs, hang with their thickening hair. Lilies of the valley, stocks, columbines, lady-smocks, and the intensely red piony which seems to anticipate the full glow of summertime, all come out to wait upon the season, like fairies from their subterraneous palaces.”

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Cowslip. Primula Veris. Dedicated to St. Catharine of Sienna.

Then came faire MAY, the fayrest mayd on ground, Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde, And throwing flow’res out of her lap around: Upon two brethren’s shoulders she did ride, The twinnes of Leda; which on either side Supported her, like to their soveraine Queene. Lord! how all creatures laught, when her they spide, And leapt and daunc’t as they had ravisht beene! And Cupid selfe about her fluttred all in greene.

Spenser.

So hath “divinest Spenser” represented the fifth month of the year, in the grand pageant which, to all who have seen it, is still present; for neither the laureate’s office nor the poet’s art hath devised a spectacle more gorgeous. Castor and Pollux, “the twinnes of Leda,” who appeared to sailors in storms with lambent fires on their heads, mythologists have constellated in the firmament, and made still propitious to the mariner. Maia, the brightest of the Pleiades, from whom some say this month derived its name, is fabled to have been the daughter of Atlas, the supporter of the world, and Pleione, a sea-nymph. Others ascribe its name to its having been dedicated by Romulus to the Majores, or Roman senators.

Verstegan affirms of the Anglo-Saxons, that “the pleasant moneth of May they termed by the name of Trimilki, because in that moneth they began to milke their kine three times in the day.”

Scarcely a poet but praises, or describes, or alludes to the beauties of this month. Darwin sings it as the offspring of the solar beams, and invites it to approach and receive the greetings of the elemental beings:--

Born in yon blaze of orient sky, Sweet May! thy radiant form unfold; Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye, And wave thy shadowy locks of gold.

For thee the fragrant zephyrs blow, For thee descends the sunny shower; The rills in softer murmurs flow, And brighter blossoms gem the bower.

Light Graces dress’d in flowery wreaths, And tiptoe Joys their hands combine; And Love his sweet contagion breathes, And laughing dances round thy shrine.

Warm with new life, the glittering throng On quivering fin and rustling wing Delighted join their votive songs, And hail thee, goddess of the spring.

One of Milton’s richest fancies is of this month; he says, that Adam, discoursing with Eve--

Smil’d with superior love; as Jupiter On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds That shed May-flowers.

Throughout the wide range of poetic excellence, there is no piece of higher loveliness than his often quoted, yet never tiring

Song on May Morning.

Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May! that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale both boast thy blessing! Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

With exquisite feeling and exuberant grace he derives Mirth from--

The frolic wind that breathes the spring Zephyr, with Aurora playing As he met her once a Maying;

and, with beautiful propriety, as regards the season, he makes the scenery

-----beds of violets blue, And fresh blown roses wash’d in dew.

The first of his “sonnets” is to the nightingale warbling on a “bloomy spray” at eve, while, as he figures,

“The jolly hours lead on propitious May.”

In “a Conversational Poem written in April,” by Mr. Coleridge, there is a description of the nightingale’s song, so splendid that it may take the place of extracts from other poets who have celebrated the charms of the coming month, wherein this bird’s high melody prevails with increasing power:--

All is still, A balmy night! and tho’ the stars be dim, Yet let us think upon the vernal showers That gladden the green earth, and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars. And hark? the nightingale begins its song. He crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful, that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music! -------I know a grove Of large extent, hard by a castle huge Which the great lord inhabits not: and so This grove is wild with tangling underwood, And the trim walks are broken up, and grass Thin grass and king-cups grow within the paths. But never elsewhere in one place I knew So many nightingales: and far and near In wood and thicket over the wide grove They answer and provoke each other’s songs-- With skirmish and capricious passagings, And murmurs musical and swift jug jug, And one low piping sound more sweet than all-- Stirring the air with such a harmony, That should you close your eyes, you might almost Forget it was not day! On moonlight bushes, Whose dewy leafits are but half disclos’d, You may perchance behold them on the twigs, Their bright, bright eyes, their eyes both bright and full Glist’ning, while many a glow-worm in the shade Lights up her love-torch.-------- ---------Oft, a moment’s space, What time the moon was lost behind a cloud, Hath heard a pause of silence: till the moon Emerging, hath awaken’d earth and sky With one sensation, and those wakeful birds Have all burst forth in choral minstrelsy, As if one quick and sudden gale had swept An hundred airy harps! And I have watch’d Many a nightingale perch’d giddily On blos’my twig, still swinging from the breeze, And to that motion tune his wanton song, Like tipsy Joy that reels with tossing head.

~May 1.~

St. Philip, and St. James the less. St. Asaph, Bp. of Llan-Elway, A. D. 590. St. Marcon, or Marculfus, A. D. 558. St. Sigismund, king of Burgundy, 6th Cent.

St. Philip and St. James.

Philip is supposed to have been the first of Christ’s apostles, and to have died at Hierapolis, in Phrygia. James, also surnamed the Just, whose name is borne by the epistle in the New Testament, and who was in great repute among the Jews, was martyred in a tumult in the temple, about the year 62.[119] St. Philip and St. James are in the church of England Calendar.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Tulip. Tulipa Gesneri. Dedicated to St. Philip. Red Campion. Lychnis dioica rubra. Red Bachelor’s Buttons. Lychnis dioica plena. Dedicated to St. James.

~May-Day.~

Hail! sacred thou to sacred joy, To mirth and wine, sweet first of May! To sports, which no grave cares alloy, The sprightly dance, the festive play!

Hail! thou, of ever-circling time That gracest still the ceaseless flow! Bright blossom of the season’s prime, Aye, hastening on to winter’s snow!

When first young Spring his angel face On earth unveiled, and years of gold, Gilt with pure ray man’s guileless race, By law’s stern terrors uncontrolled.

Such was the soft and genial breeze Mild Zephyr breathed on all around, With grateful glee, to airs like these Yielded its wealth th’ unlaboured ground.

So fresh, so fragrant is the gale, Which o’er the islands of the blest Sweeps; where nor aches the limbs assail, Nor age’s peevish pains infest.

Where thy hushed groves, Elysium, sleep, Such winds with whispered murmurs blow So, where dull Lethe’s waters creep, They heave, scarce heave the cypress-bough.

And such, when heaven with penal flame Shall purge the globe, that golden day Restoring, o’er man’s brightened frame Haply such gale again shall play.

Hail! thou, the fleet year’s pride and prime! Hail! day, which fame shall bid to bloom! Hail! image of primeval time! Hail! sample of a world to come!--

Buchanan, by Langhorne.

In behalf of this ancient festival, a noble authoress contributes a little “forget me not:”--

The First of May

Colin met Sylvia on the green, Once on the charming first of May, And shepherds ne’er tell false I ween, Yet ’twas by chance the shepherds say

Colin he bow’d and blush’d, then said, Will you, sweet maid, this first of May Begin the dance by Colin led, To make this quite his holiday?

Sylvia replied, I ne’er from home Yet ventur’d, till this first of May; It is not fit for maids to roam, And make a shepherd’s holiday.

It is most fit, replied the youth, That Sylvia should this first of May By me be taught that love and truth Can make of life a holiday.

Lady Craven.

“We call,” says Mr. Leigh Hunt--“we call upon the admirers of the good and beautiful to help us in ‘rescuing nature from obloquy.’ All you that are lovers of nature in books,--lovers of music, painting, and poetry,--lovers of sweet sounds, and odours, and colours, and all the eloquent and happy face of the rural world with its eyes of sunshine,--you, that are lovers of your species, of youth, and health, and old age,--of manly strength in the manly, of nymph-like graces in the female,--of air, of exercise, of happy currents in your veins,--of the light in great Nature’s picture,--of all the gentle spiriting, the loveliness, the luxury, that now stands under the smile of heaven, silent and solitary as your fellow-creatures have left it,--go forth on May-day, or on the earliest fine May morning, if that be not fine, and pluck your flowers and your green boughs to adorn your rooms with, and to show that you do not live in vain. These April rains (for May has not yet come, according to the old style, which is the proper one of our climate), these April rains are fetching forth the full luxury of the trees and hedges;--by the next sunshine, all ‘the green weather,’ as a little gladsome child called it, will have come again; the hedges will be so many thick verdant walls, the fields mossy carpets, the trees clothed to their finger-tips with foliage, the birds saturating the woods with song. Come forth, come forth.”[120]

* * * * *

This was the great rural festival of our forefathers. Their hearts responded merrily to the cheerfulness of the season. At the dawn of May morning the lads and lasses left their towns and villages, and repairing to the woodlands by sound of music, they gathered the May, or blossomed branches of the trees, and bound them with wreaths of flowers; then returning to their homes by sunrise, they decorated the lattices and doors with the sweet-smelling spoil of their joyous journey, and spent the remaining hours in sports and pastimes. Spenser’s “Shepherd’s Calendar” poetically records these customs in a beautiful eclogue:--

Youths folke now flocken in every where To gather May-buskets, and smelling breere; And home they hasten, the postes to dight, And all the kirke pillers, ere daylight, With hawthorne buds, and sweet eglantine, And girlonds of roses, and soppes in wine.

* * * * *

Siker this morrow, no longer ago, I saw a shole of shepheards outgo With singing and showting, and jolly cheere; Before them yode a lustie tabrere, That to the meynie a hornepipe plaid, Whereto they dauncen eche one with his maide. To see these folkes make such jovisaunce, Made my hart after the pipe to daunce. Tho’ to the greene-wood they speeden them all, To fetchen home May with their musicall: And home they bringen, in a royall throne, Crowned as king; and his queen attone Was Ladie Flora, on whom did attend A faire flock of faeries, and a fresh bend Of lovely nymphs. O, that I were there To helpen the ladies their May-bush beare.

Forbear censure, gentle readers and kind hearers, for quotations from poets, they have made the day especially their own; they are its annalists. A poet’s invitation to his mistress to enjoy the festivity, is historical; if he says to her, “together let us range,” he tells her for what; and becomes a grave authority to the grave antiquary. The sweetest of all British bards that sing of our customs, beautifully illustrates the May-day of England:--

Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morne Upon her wings presents the God unshorne. See how Aurora throwes her faire Fresh-quilted colours through the aire; Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herbe and tree. Each flower has wept, and bow’d toward the east, Above an houre since, yet you not drest, Nay! not so much as out of bed; When all the birds have matteyns seyd, And sung their thankfull hymnes; ’tis sin, Nay, profanation to keep in, When as a thousand virgins on this day, Spring sooner then the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise, and put on your foliage, and be seene To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and greene, And sweet as Flora. Take no care For jewels for your gowne or haire; Feare not, the leaves will strew Gemms in abundance upon you; Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, Against you come, some orient pearls unwept. Come, and receive them while the light Hangs on the dew-locks of the night; And Titan on the eastern hill Retires himselfe, or else stands still Till you come forth. Wash, dresse, be brief in praying; Few beads are best, when once we goe a Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come; and, comming, marke How each field turns a street, each street a parke Made green, and trimm’d with trees; see how Devotion gives each house a bough, Or branch; each porch, each doore, ere this, An arke, a tabernacle is, Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; As if here were those cooler shades of love Can such delights be in the street, And open fields, and we not see’t? Come, we’ll abroad, and let’s obay The proclamation made for May: And sin no more, as we have done, by staying But, my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.

There’s not a budding boy or girle, this day, But is got up, and gone to bring in May. A deale of youth, ere this, is come Back, and with white-thorn laden home. Some have dispatcht their cakes and creame Before that we have left to dreame; And some have wept, and woo’d, and plighted troth, And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth: Many a green gown has been given; Many a kisse, both odde and even; Many a glance, too, has been sent From out the eye, love’s firmament; Many a jest told of the keye’s betraying This night, and locks pickt; yet w’are not a Maying.

Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime And take the harmlesse follie of the time. We shall grow old apace and die Before we know our liberty. Our life is short, and our dayes run As fast away as do’s the sunne; And as a vapour, or a drop of raine Once lost, can ne’r be found againe; So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade; All love, all liking, all delight Lies drown’d with us in endless night. Then, while time serves, and we are but decaying, Come, my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.

Herrick.

A gatherer of notices respecting our pastimes says, “The after-part of May-day is chiefly spent in dancing round a tall Poll, which is called a May Poll; which being placed in a convenient part of the village, stands there, as it were consecrated to the Goddess of Flowers, without the least violation offer’d to it, in the whole circle of the year.”[121] One who was an implacable enemy to popular sports relates the fetching in of “the May” from the woods. “But,” says he, “their cheefest jewell they bring from thence is their Maie poole, whiche they. bring home with greate veneration, as thus. They have twentie or fourtie yoke of oxen, every oxe havyng a sweete nosegaie of flowers tyed on the tippe of his hornes, and these oxen drawe home this Maie poole, which is covered all over with flowers and hearbes, bounde rounde aboute with stringes, from the top to the bottome, and sometyme painted with variable colours, with twoo or three hundred men, women, and children followyng it, with greate devotion. And thus beyng reared up, with handkerchiefes and flagges streamyng on the toppe, they strawe the grounde aboute, binde greene boughes about it, sett up Sommer haules, Bowers, and Arbours hard by it. And then fall they to banquet and feast, to leape and daunce aboute it, as the Heathen people did at the dedication of their Idolles, whereof this is a perfect patterne, or rather the thyng itself.”[122]

The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup; I’ll drink to the garlands around it; But first unto those Whose hands did compose The glory of flowers that crown’d it.

Herrick.

Another poet, and therefore no opponent to homely mirth on this festal day, so describes part of its merriment as to make a beautiful picture:--

I have seen the Lady of the May Set in an arbour (on a holy-day) Built by the May-pole, where the jocund swaines Dance with the maidens to the bag-pipe’s straines, When envious night commands them to be gone, Call for the merry youngsters one by one, And, for their well performance, soon disposes, To this a garland interwove with roses, To that a carved hooke, or well-wrought scrip; Gracing another with her cherry lip; To one her garter; to another, then, A handkerchiefe, cast o’er and o’er again; And none returneth emptie that hath spent His paines to fill their rural merriment.

Browne’s Pastorals.

A poet, who has not versified, (Mr. Washington Irving,) says, “I shall never forget the delight I felt on first seeing a May-pole. It was on the banks of the Dee, close by the picturesque old bridge that stretches across the river from the quaint little city of Chester. I had already been carried back into former days by the antiquities of that venerable place; the examination of which is equal to turning over the pages of a black-letter volume, or gazing on the pictures in Froissart. The May-pole on the margin of that poetic stream completed the illusion. My fancy adorned it with wreaths of flowers, and peopled the green bank with all the dancing revelry of May-day. The mere sight of this May-pole gave a glow to my feelings, and spread a charm over the country for the rest of the day; and as I traversed a part of the fair plains of Cheshire, and the beautiful borders of Wales, and looked from among swelling hills down a long green valley, through which ‘the Deva wound its wizard stream,’ my imagination turned all into a perfect Arcadia.--One can readily imagine what a gay scene it must have been in jolly old London, when the doors were decorated with flowering branches, when every hat was decked with hawthorn; and Robin Hood, friar Tuck, Maid Marian, the morris-dancers, and all the other fantastic masks and revellers were performing their antics about the May-pole in every part of the city. On this occasion we are told Robin Hood presided as Lord of the May:--

“With coat of Lincoln green, and mantle too, And horn of ivory mouth, and buckle bright, And arrows winged with peacock-feathers light, And trusty bow well gathered of the yew;

“whilst near him, crowned as Lady of the May, maid Marian,

“With eyes of blue, Shining through dusk hair, like the stars of night, And habited in pretty forest plight-- His green-wood beauty sits, young as the dew:

“and there, too, in a subsequent stage of the pageant, were

“The archer-men in green, with belt and bow, Feasting on pheasant, river-fowl, and swan, With Robin at their head, and Marian.

“I value every custom that tends to infuse poetical feeling into the common people, and to sweeten and soften the rudeness of rustic manners, without destroying their simplicity. Indeed it is to the decline of this happy simplicity that the decline of this custom may be traced; and the rural dance on the green, and the homely May-day pageant, have gradually disappeared, in proportion as the peasantry have become expensive and artificial in their pleasures, and too knowing for simple enjoyment. Some attempts, indeed, have been made of late years, by men of both taste and learning, to rally back the popular feeling to these standards of primitive simplicity; but the time has gone by, the feeling has become chilled by habits of gain and traffic; the country apes the manners and amusements of the town, and little is heard of May-day at present, except from the lamentations of authors, who sigh after it from among the brick walls of the city.”

* * * * *

There will be opportunity in the course of this work to dilate somewhat concerning the May-pole and the characters in the May-games, and therefore little will be adduced at present as to the origin of pastimes, which royalty itself delighted in, and corporations patronized. For example of these honours to the festal day, an honest gatherer of older chronicles shall relate in his own words, so much as he acquaints us with:--

“In the moneth of May, namely on May day in the morning, every man, except impediment, would walke into the sweet meddowes and green woods, there to rejoyce their spirits with the beauty and savour of sweet flowers, and with the harmonie of birds, praising God in their kinde. And for example hereof, Edward Hall hath noted, that king Henry the eighth, as in the third of his reigne, and divers other yeeres, so namely in the seventh of his reigne, on May day in the morning, with queene Katharine his wife, accompanied with many lords and ladies, rode a Maying from Greenwich to the high ground of Shooters-hill: where as they passed by the way, they espyed a company of tall yeomen, clothed all in greene, with greene hoods, and with bowes and arrowes, to the number of 200. One, being their chieftaine, was called Robin Hood, who required the king and all his company to stay and see his men shoot: whereunto the king granting, Robin Hood whistled, and all the 200 archers shot off, loosing all at once; and when he whistled againe, they likewise shot againe: their arrows whistled by craft of the head, so that the noise was strange and loud, which greatly delighted the king, queene, and their company.

“Moreover, this Robin Hood desired the king and queene, with their retinue, to enter the greene wood, where, in arbours made of boughes, and deckt with flowers, they were set and served plentifully with venison and wine, by Robin Hood and his meyny, to their great contentment, and had other pageants and pastimes; as yee may read in my said author.

“I find also, that in the month of May, the citizens of London (of all estates) lightly in every parish, or sometimes two or three parishes joyning together, had their severall Mayings, and did fetch in May-poles, with divers warlike shewes, with good archers, morice-dancers, and other devises for pastime all the day long; and towards the evening, they had stage-plaies, and bonefires in the streets.

“Of these Mayings, we read in the reign of Henry the sixth, that the aldermen and sheriffes of London, being on May day at the bishop of Londons wood in the parish of Stebunheath, and having there a worshipfull dinner for themselves and other commers, Lydgate the poet, that was a monk of Bury, sent to them by a pursivant a joyfull commendation of that season, containing sixteene staves in meeter royall, beginning thus:--

“Mighty Flora, goddesse of fresh flowers, which clothed hath the soyle in lusty green, Made buds to spring, with her sweet showers, by influence of the sunne shine, To doe pleasance of intent full cleane, unto the states which now sit here, Hath Ver downe seat her own daughter deare,

“Making the vertue, that dured in the root, Called the vertue, the vertue vegetable, for to transcend, most wholesome and most soote, Into the top, this season so agreeable: the bawmy liquor is so commendable, That it rejoyceth with his fresh moisture, man, beast, and fowle, and every creature,” &c.

Thus far hath our London historian conceived it good for his fellow citizens to know.

* * * * *

Of the manner wherein a May game was anciently set forth, he who above all writers contemporary with him could best devise it has “drawn out the platform,” and exhibited the pageant, as performed by the household servants and dependants of a baronial mansion in the fifteenth century. This is the scene:--“In the front of the pavilion, a large square was staked out, and fenced with ropes, to prevent the crowd from pressing upon the performers, and interrupting the diversion; there were also two bars at the bottom of the inclosure, through which the actors might pass and repass, as occasion required.--Six young men first entered the square, clothed in jerkins of leather, with axes upon their shoulders like woodmen, and their heads bound with large garlands of ivy-leaves, intertwined with sprigs of hawthorn. Then followed six young maidens of the village, dressed in blue kirtles, with garlands of primroses on their heads, leading a fine sleek cow decorated with ribbons of various colours, interspersed with flowers; and the horns of the animal were tipped with gold. These were succeeded by six foresters, equipped in green tunics, with hoods and hosen of the same colour; each of them carried a bugle-horn attached to a baldrick of silk, which he sounded as he passed the barrier. After them came Peter Lanaret, the baron’s chief falconer, who personified Robin Hood, he was attired in a bright grass-green tunic, fringed with gold; his hood and his hosen were parti-coloured, blue and white; he had a large garland of rosebuds on his head, a bow bent in his hand, a sheaf of arrows at his girdle, and a bugle-horn depending from a baldrick of light blue tarantine, embroidered with silver; he had also a sword and a dagger, the hilts of both being richly embossed with gold.--Fabian, a page, as Little John, walked at his right hand; and Cecil Cellerman the butler, as Will Stukely, at his left. These, with ten others of the jolly outlaw’s attendants who followed, were habited in green garments, bearing their bows bent in their hands, and their arrows in their girdles. Then came two maidens, in orange-coloured kirtles with white courtpies, strewing flowers, followed immediately by the Maid Marian, elegantly habited in a watchet-coloured tunic reaching to the ground; over which she wore a white linen rochet with loose sleeves, fringed with silver, and very neatly plaited; her girdle was of silver baudekin, fastened with a double bow on the left side; her long flaxen hair was divided into many ringlets, and flowed upon her shoulders; the top part of her head was covered with a net-work cawl of gold, upon which was placed a garland of silver, ornamented with blue violets. She was supported by two bride-maidens, in sky-coloured rochets girt with crimson girdles, wearing garlands upon their heads of blue and white violets. After them came four other females in green courtpies, and garlands of violets and cowslips. Then Sampson the smith, as Friar Tuck, carrying a huge quarter-staff on his shoulder; and Morris the mole-taker, who represented Much the miller’s son, having a long pole with an inflated bladder attached to one end. And after them the May-pole, drawn by eight fine oxen, decorated with scarfs, ribbons, and flowers of divers colours; and the tips of their horns were embellished with gold. The rear was closed by the hobby-horse and the dragon.--When the May-pole was drawn into the square, the foresters sounded their horns, and the populace expressed their pleasure by shouting incessantly until it reached the place assigned for its elevation:--and during the time the ground was preparing for its reception, the barriers of the bottom of the inclosure were opened for the villagers to approach, and adorn it with ribbons, garlands, and flowers, as their inclination prompted them.--The pole being sufficiently onerated with finery, the square was cleared from such as had no part to perform in the pageant; and then it was elevated amidst the reiterated acclamations of the spectators. The woodmen and the milk-maidens danced around it according to the rustic fashion; the measure was played by Peretto Cheveritte, the baron’s chief minstrel, on the bagpipes, accompanied with the pipe and tabour, performed by one of his associates. When the dance was finished, Gregory the jester, who undertook to play the hobby-horse, came forward with his appropriate equipment, and, frisking up and down the square without restriction, imitated the galloping, curvetting, ambling, trotting, and other paces of a horse, to the infinite satisfaction of the lower classes of the spectators. He was followed by Peter Parker, the baron’s ranger, who personated a dragon, hissing, yelling, and shaking his wings with wonderful ingenuity; and to complete the mirth, Morris, in the character of Much, having small bells attached to his knees and elbows, capered here and there between the two monsters in the form of a dance; and as often as he came near to the sides of the inclosure, he cast slily a handful of meal into the faces of the gaping rustics, or rapped them about their heads with the bladder tied at the end of his pole. In the mean time, Sampson, representing Friar Tuck, walked with much gravity around the square, and occasionally let fall his heavy staff upon the toes of such of the crowd as he thought were approaching more forward than they ought to do; and if the sufferers cried out from the sense of pain, he addressed them in a solemn tone of voice, advising them to count their beads, say a paternoster or two, and to beware of purgatory. These vagaries were highly palatable to the populace, who announced their delight by repeated plaudits and loud bursts of laughter; for this reason they were continued for a considerable length of time: but Gregory, beginning at last to faulter in his paces, ordered the dragon to fall back: the well-nurtured beast, being out of breath, readily obeyed, and their two companions followed their example; which concluded this part of the pastime.--Then the archers set up a target at the lower part of the green, and made trial of their skill in a regular succession. Robin Hood and Will Stukely excelled their comrades; and both of them lodged an arrow in the centre circle of gold, so near to each other that the difference could not readily be decided, which occasioned them to shoot again; when Robin struck the gold a second time, and Stukely’s arrow was affixed upon the edge of it. Robin was therefore adjudged the conqueror; and the prize of honour, a garland of laurel embellished with variegated ribbons, was put upon his head; and to Stukely was given a garland of ivy, because he was the second best performer in that contest.--The pageant was finished with the archery; and the procession began to move away to make room for the villagers, who afterwards assembled in the square, and amused themselves by dancing round the May-pole in promiscuous companies, according to the antient custom.”[123] It is scarcely possible to give a better general idea of the regular May-game, than as it has been here represented.

* * * * *

Of the English May-pole this may be observed. An author before cited says, that “at the north-west corner of Aldgate ward in Leadenhall-street, standeth the fair and beautiful parish church of St. Andrew the apostle, with an addition, to be known from other churches of that name, of the knape, or undershaft, and so called St. Andrew Undershaft, because that of old time, every year (on May-day in the morning,) it was used, that a high or long shaft, or May-pole, was set up there, in the midst of the street, before the south door of the said church, which shaft or pole, when it was set on end, and fixed in the ground, was higher than the church steeple. Jeffrey Chaucer, writing of a vain boaster, hath these words, meaning of the said shaft:--

“Right well aloft, and high ye bear your head,

* * * * *

As ye would bear the great shaft of Corn-hill.

“This shaft was not raised any time since evil May-day, (so called of an insurrection being made by prentices, and other young persons against aliens, in the year 1517,) but the said shaft was laid along over the doors, and under the pentices of one rowe of houses, and Alley-gate, called of the shaft, Shaft-alley, (being of the possessions of Rochester-bridge,) in the ward of Lime-street.--It was there, I say, hanged on iron hooks many years, till the third of king Edward the sixth, (1552), that one sir Stephen, curate of St. Katherine Christ’s church, preaching at Paul’s Cross, said there, that this shaft was made an idoll, by naming the church of St. Andrew with the addition of Undershaft; he perswaded, therefore, that the names of churches might be altered.--This sermon at Paul’s Cross took such effect, that in the afternoon of that present Sunday, the neighbors and tenants to the said bridge, over whose doors the said shaft had lain, after they had dined (to make themselves strong,) gathered more help, and, with great labor, raising the shaft from the hooks, (whereon it had rested two-and-thirty years,) they sawed it in pieces, every man taking for his share so much as had lain over his door and stall, the length of his house; and they of the alley, divided amongst them, so much as had lain over their alley-gate. Thus was his idoll (as he termed it,) mangled, and after burned.”[124]

It was a great object with some of the more rigid among our early reformers, to suppress amusements, especially May-poles; and these “idols” of the people were got down as zeal grew fierce, and got up as it grew cool, till, after various ups and downs, the favourites of the populace were, by the parliament, on the 6th of April, 1644, thus provided against: “The lords and commons do further order and ordain, that all and singular May-poles, that are or shall be erected, shall be taken down, and removed by the constables, bossholders, tithing-men, petty constables, and churchwardens of the parishes, where the same be, and that no May-pole be hereafter set up, erected, or suffered to be set up within this kingdom of England, or dominion of Wales; the said officers to be fined five shillings weekly till the said May-pole be taken down.”

Accordingly down went all the May-poles that were left. A famous one in the Strand, which had ten years before been sung in lofty metre, appears to have previously fallen. The poet says,--

Fairly we marched on, till our approach Within the spacious passage of the Strand, Objected to our sight a summer broach, Ycleap’d a May Pole, which in all our land, No city, towne, nor streete, can parralell, Nor can the lofty spire of Clarken-well, Although we have the advantage of a rocke, Pearch up more high his turning weather-cock.

Stay, quoth my Muse, and here behold a signe Of harmelesse mirth and honest neighbourhood, Where all the parish did in one combine To mount the rod of peace, and none withstood: When no capritious constables disturb them, Nor justice of the peace did seek to curb them, Nor peevish puritan, in rayling sort, Nor over-wise church-warden, spoyl’d the sport.

Happy the age, and harmlesse were the dayes, (For then true love and amity was found,) When every village did a May Pole raise, And Whitson-ales and MAY-GAMES did abound: And all the lusty yonkers, in a rout, With merry lasses daunc’d the rod about, Then Friendship to their banquets bid the guests, And poore men far’d the better for their feasts.

The lords of castles, mannors, townes, and towers, Rejoic’d when they beheld the farmer’s flourish, And would come downe unto the summer-bowers To see the country gallants dance the Morrice.

* * * * *

But since the SUMMER POLES were overthrown, And all good sports and merriments decay’d, How times and men are chang’d, so well is knowne, It were but labour lost if more were said.

* * * * *

But I doe hope once more the day will come, That you shall mount and pearch your cocks as high As ere you did, and that the pipe and drum Shall bid defiance to your enemy; And that all fidlers, which in corners lurke, And have been almost starv’d for want of worke, Shall draw their crowds, and, at your exaltation, Play many a fit of merry recreation.[125]

The restoration of Charles II. was the signal for the restoration of May-poles. On the very first May-day afterwards, in 1661, the May-pole in the Strand was reared with great ceremony and rejoicing, a curious account of which, from a rare tract, is at the reader’s service. “Let me declare to you,” says the triumphant narrator, “the manner in general of that stately cedar erected in the strand 134 foot high, commonly called the May-Pole, upon the cost of the parishioners there adjacent, and the gracious consent of his sacred Majesty with the illustrious Prince The Duke of York. This Tree was a most choice and remarkable piece; ’twas made below Bridge, and brought in two parts up to Scotland Yard near the King’s Palace, and from thence it was conveyed April 14th to the Strand to be erected. It was brought with a streamer flourishing before it, Drums beating all the way and other sorts of musick; it was supposed to be so long, that Landsmen (as Carpenters) could not possibly raise it; (Prince James the Duke of York, Lord High Admiral of England, commanded twelve seamen off a boord to come and officiate the business, whereupon they came and brought their cables, Pullies, and other tacklins, with six great anchors) after this was brought three Crowns, bore by three men bare-headed and a streamer displaying all the way before them, Drums beating and other musick playing; numerous multitudes of people thronging the streets, with great shouts and acclamations all day long. The May pole then being joyned together, and hoopt about with bands of iron, the crown and cane with the Kings Arms richly gilded, was placed on the head of it, a large top like a Balcony was about the middle of it. This being done, the trumpets did sound, and in four hours space it was advanced upright, after which being established fast in the ground six drums did beat, and the trumpets did sound; again great shouts and acclamations the people give, that it did ring throughout all the strand. After that came a Morice Dance finely deckt, with purple scarfs, in their half-shirts, with a Tabor and Pipe, the ancient Musick, and danced round about the Maypole, and after that danced the rounds of their liberty. Upon the top of this famous standard is likewise set up a royal purple streamer, about the middle of it is placed four Crowns more, with the King’s Arms likewise, there is also a garland set upon it of various colours of delicate rich favours, under which is to be placed three great Lanthorns, to remain for three honours; that is, one for Prince James Duke of York, Ld High Admiral of England; the other for the Vice Admiral; and the third for the rear Admiral; these are to give light in dark nights and to continue so as long as the Pole stands which will be a perpetual honour for seamen. It is placed as near hand as they could guess, in the very same pit where the former stood, but far more glorious, bigger and higher, than ever any one that stood before it; and the seamen themselves do confess that it could not be built higher nor is there not such a one in Europe beside, which highly doth please his Majesty, and the illustrious Prince Duke of York; little children did much rejoice, and antient people did clap their hands, saying, golden days began to appear. I question not but ’twill ring like melodious musick throughout every county in Englend, when they read this story being exactly pen’d; let this satisfie for the glories of London that other loyal subjects may read what we here do see.”[126]

A processional engraving, by Vertue, among the prints of the Antiquarian Society, represents this May-pole, as a door or two westward beyond

“Where Catharine-street descends into the Strand;”

and as far as recollection of the print serves, it was erected opposite to the site of sir Walter Stirling and Co’s. present banking-house. In a compilation respecting “London and Middlesex,” it is stated that this May-pole having decayed, was obtained of the parish by sir Isaac Newton, in 1717, and carried through the city to Wanstead, in Essex; and by license of sir Richard Child, lord Castlemain, reared in the park by the rev. Mr. Pound, rector of that parish, for the purpose of supporting the largest telescope at that period in the world, given by Mons. Hugon, a French member of the Royal Society, as a present; the telescope was one hundred and twenty-five feet long. This May-pole on public occasions was adorned with streamers, flags, garlands of flowers and other ornaments.

It was near the May-pole in the Strand that, in 1677, Mr. Robert Perceval was found dead with a deep wound under his left breast, and his sword drawn and bloody, lying by him. He was nineteen years of age, had fought as many duels as he had lived years, and with uncommon talents was an excessive libertine. He was second son to the right hon. sir Robert Perceval, bart. Some singular particulars are related of him in the “History of the House of Yvery.” A stranger’s hat with a bunch of ribbons in it was lying near his body when it was discovered, and there exists no doubt of his having been killed by some person who, notwithstanding royal proclamations and great inquiries, was never discovered. The once celebrated Beau Fielding was suspected of the crime. He was buried under the chapel of Lincoln’s-inn. His elder brother, sir Philip Perceval, intent on discovering the murderers, violently attacked a gentleman in Dublin, whom he declared he had never seen before; he could only account for his rage by saying he was possessed with a belief that he was one of those who had killed his brother; they were soon parted, and the gentleman was seen no more.

The last poet who seems to have mentioned it was Pope; he says of an assemblage of persons that,--

Amidst the area wide they took their stand, Where the tall May-pole once o’er-look’d the Strand.

A native of Penzance, in Cornwall, relates to the editor of the Every-Day Book, that it is an annual custom there, on May-eve, for a number of young men and women to assemble at a public-house, and sit up till the clock strikes twelve, when they go round the town with violins, drums, and other instruments, and by sound of music call upon others who had previously settled to join them. As soon as the party is formed, they proceed to different farmhouses, within four or five miles of the neighbourhood, where they are expected as regularly as May morning comes; and they there partake of a beverage called junket, made of raw milk and rennet, or running, as it is there called, sweetened with sugar, and a little cream added. After this, they take tea, and “heavy country cake,” composed of flour, cream, sugar, and currants; next, rum and milk, and then a dance. After thus regaling, they gather the May. While some are breaking down the boughs, others sit and make the “May music.” This is done by cutting a circle through the bark at a certain distance from the bottom of the May branches; then, by gently and regularly tapping the bark all round, from the cut circle to the end, the bark becomes loosened, and slips away whole from the wood; and a hole being cut in the pipe, it is easily formed to emit a sound when blown through, and becomes a whistle. The gathering and the “May music” being finished, they then “bring home the May,” by five or six o’clock in the morning, with the band playing, and their whistles blowing. After dancing throughout the town, they go to their respective employments. Although May-day should fall on a Sunday, they observe the same practice in all respects, with the omission of dancing in the town.

On the first Sunday after May-day, it is a custom with families at Penzance to visit Rose-hill, Poltier, and other adjacent villages, by way of recreation. These pleasure-parties usually consist of two or three families together. They carry flour and other materials with them to make the “heavy cake,” just described, at the pleasant farm-dairies, which are always open for their reception. Nor do they forget to take tea, sugar, rum, and other comfortable things for their refreshment, which, by paying a trifle for baking, and for the niceties awaiting their consumption, contents the farmers for the house-room and pleasure they afford their welcome visitants. Here the young ones find delicious “junkets,” with “sour milk,” or curd cut in diamonds, which is eaten with sugar and cream. New made cake, refreshing tea, and exhilarating punch, satisfy the stomach, cheer the spirits, and assist the walk home in the evening. These pleasure-takings are never made before May-day; but the first Sunday that succeeds it, and the leisure of every other afternoon, is open to the frugal enjoyment; and among neighbourly families and kind friends, the enjoyment is frequent.

* * * * *

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

There still exists among the labouring classes in Wales the custom of May-dancing, wherein they exhibit their persons to the best advantage, and distinguish their agility before the fair maidens of their own rank.

About a fortnight previous to the day, the interesting question among the lads and lasses is, “Who will turn out to dance in the summer this year?” From that time the names of the gay performers are buzzed in the village, and rumour “with her hundred tongues” proclaims them throughout the surrounding neighbourhood. Nor is it asked with less interest, “Who will carry the garland?” and “Who will be the Cadi?” Of the peculiar offices of these two distinguished personages you shall hear presently.

About nine days or a week previous to the festival, a collection is made of the gayest ribbons that can be procured. Each lad resorts to his favoured lass, who gives him the best she possesses, and uses her utmost interest with her friends or her mistress to obtain a loan of whatever may be requisite to supply the deficiency. Her next care is to decorate a new white shirt of fine linen. This is a principal part of her lover’s dress. The bows and puffs of ribbon are disposed according to the peculiar taste of each fair girl who is rendered happy by the pleasing task; and thus the shirts of the dancers, from the various fancies of the adorners, form a diversified and lively appearance.

During this time the chosen garland-bearer is also busily employed. Accompanied by one from among the intended dancers, who is best known among the farmers for decency of conduct, and consequent responsibility, they go from house to house, throughout their parish, begging the loan of watches, silver spoons, or whatever other utensils of this metal are likely to make a brilliant display; and those who are satisfied with the parties, and have a regard for the celebration of this ancient day, comply with their solicitation.

When May-day morn arrives, the group of dancers assemble at their rendezvous--the village tavern. From thence (when permission can be obtained from the clergyman of the parish,) the rustic procession sets forth, accompanied by the ringing of bells.

The arrangement and march are settled by the Cadi, who is always the most active person in the company; and is, by virtue of his important office, the chief marshal, orator, buffoon, and money collector. He is always arrayed in comic attire, generally in a partial dress of both sexes: a coat and waistcoat being used for the upper part of the body, and for the lower petticoats, somewhat resembling Moll Flagon, in the “Lord of the Manor.” His countenance is also particularly distinguished by a hideous mask, or is blackened entirely over; and then the lips, cheeks, and orbits of the eyes are sometimes painted red. The number of the rest of the party, including the garland-bearer, is generally thirteen, and with the exception of the varied taste in the decoration of their shirts with ribbons, their costume is similar. It consists of clothing entirely new from the hat to the shoes, which are made neat, and of a light texture, for dancing. The white decorated shirts, plaited in the neatest manner, are worn over the rest of their clothing; the remainder of the dress is black velveteen breeches, with knee-ties depending halfway down to the ancles, in contrast with yarn hose of a light grey. The ornaments of the hats are large rosettes of varied colours, with streamers depending from them; wreaths of ribbon encircle the crown, and each of the dancers carries in his right hand a white pocket handkerchief.

The garland consists of a long staff or pole, to which is affixed a triangular or square frame, covered with strong white linen, on which the silver ornaments are firmly fixed, and displayed with the most studious taste. Silver spoons and smaller forms are placed in the shape of stars, squares, and circles. Between these are rows of watches; and at the top of the frame, opposite the pole in its centre, their whole collection is crowned with the largest and most costly of the ornaments: generally a large silver cup or tankard. This garland, when completed, on the eve of May-day, is left for the night at that farmhouse from whence the dancers have received the most liberal loan of silver and plate for its decoration, or with that farmer who is distinguished in his neighbourhood as a good master, and liberal to the poor. Its deposit is a token of respect, and it is called for early on the following morning.

The whole party being assembled, they march in single file, but more generally in pairs, headed by the Cadi. After him follows the garland-bearer, and then the fiddler, while the bells of the village merrily ring the signal of their departure. As the procession moves slowly along, the Cadi varies his station, hovers about his party, brandishes a ladle, and assails every passenger with comic eloquence and ludicrous persecution, for a customary and expected donation.

When they arrive at a farmhouse, they take up their ground on the best station for dancing. The garland-bearer takes his stand; the violin strikes up an old national tune uniformly used on that occasion, and the dancers move forward in a regular quick-step to the tune, in the order of procession; and at each turn of the tune throw up their white handkerchiefs with a shout, and the whole facing quickly about, retrace their steps, repeating the same manœuvre until the tune is once played. The music and dancing then vary into a reel, which is succeeded by another dance, to the old tune of “Cheshire Round.”

During the whole of this time, the buffoonery of the Cadi is exhibited without intermission. He assails the inmates of the house for money, and when this is obtained he bows or curtsies his thanks, and the procession moves off to the next farmhouse. They do not confine the ramble of the day to their own parish, but go from one to another, and to any country town in the vicinity.

When they return to their resident village in the evening, the bells ringing merrily announce their arrival. The money collected during the day’s excursion is appropriated to defray whatever expenses may have been incurred in the necessary preparations, and the remainder is spent in jovial festivity.

This ancient custom, like many others among the ancient Britons, is annually growing into disuse. The decline of sports and pastimes is in every age a subject of regret. For in a civil point of view, they denote the general prosperity, natural energy, and happiness of the people, consistent with morality,--and combined with that spirit of true religion, which unlike the howling of the dismal hyæna or ravening wolf, is as a lamb sportive and innocent, and as a lion magnanimous and bold!

I am, Sir,

Yours sincerely,

H. T. B.

April 14, 1825.

* * * * *

MAY-DAY AT HITCHIN, IN HERTFORDSHIRE.

For the Every-Day Book.

EXTRACT from a letter dated Hitchin, May 1st, 1823.

On this day a curious custom is observed here, of which I will give you a brief account.

Soon after three o’clock in the morning a large party of the town-people, and neighbouring labourers, parade the town, singing the “Mayer’s Song.” They carry in their hands large branches of May, and they affix a branch either upon, or at the side of, the doors of nearly every respectable house in the town; where there are knockers, they place these branches within the handles; that which was put into our knocker was so large that the servant could not open the door till the gardener came and took it out. The larger the branch is, that is placed at the door, the more honourable to the house, or rather to the servants of the house. If, in the course of the year, a servant has given offence to any of the Mayers, then, instead of a branch of May, a branch of elder, with a bunch of nettles, is affixed to her door: this is considered a great disgrace, and the unfortunate subject of it is exposed to the jeers of her rivals. On May morning, therefore, the girls look with some anxiety for their May-branch, and rise very early to ascertain their good or ill fortune. The houses are all thus decorated by four o’clock in the morning. Throughout the day parties of these Mayers are seen dancing and frolicking in various parts of the town. The group that I saw to-day, which remained in Bancroft for more than an hour, was composed as follows. First came two men with their faces blacked, one of them with a birch broom in his hand, and a large artificial hump on his back; the other dressed as a woman, all in rags and tatters, with a large straw bonnet on, and carrying a ladle: these are called “mad Moll and her husband:” next came two men, one most fantastically dressed with ribbons, and a great variety of gaudy coloured silk handkerchiefs tied round his arms from the shoulders to the wrists, and down his thighs and legs to the ancles; he carried a drawn sword in his hand; leaning upon his arm was a youth dressed as a fine lady, in white muslin, and profusely bedecked from top to toe with gay ribbons: these, I understood, were called the “Lord and Lady” of the company; after these followed six or seven couples more, attired much in the same style as the lord and lady, only the men were without swords. When this group received a satisfactory contribution at any house, the music struck up from a violin, clarionet, and fife, accompanied by the long drum, and they began the merry dance, and very well they danced, I assure you; the men-women looked and footed it so much like real women, that I stood in great doubt as to which sex they belonged to, till Mrs. J.---- assured me that women were not permitted to mingle in these sports. While the dancers were merrily footing it, the principal amusement to the populace was caused by the grimaces and clownish tricks of mad Moll and her husband. When the circle of spectators became so contracted as to interrupt the dancers, then mad Moll’s husband went to work with his broom, and swept the road-dust, all round the circle, into the faces of the crowd, and when any pretended affronts were offered (and many were offered) to his wife, he pursued the offenders, broom in hand; if he could not overtake them, whether they were males or females, he flung his broom at them. These flights and pursuits caused an abundance of merriment.

I saw another company of Mayers in Sun-street, and, as far as I could judge from where I stood, it appeared to be of exactly the same description as that above-mentioned, but I did not venture very near them, for I perceived mad Moll’s husband exercising his broom so briskly upon the flying crowd, that I kept at a respectful distance.

The “Mayer’s Song” is a composition, or rather a medley, of great antiquity, and I was therefore very desirous to procure a copy of it; in accomplishing this, however, I experienced more difficulty than I had anticipated; but at length succeeded in obtaining it from one of the Mayers. The following is a literal transcript of it:

The Mayer’s Song.

Remember us poor Mayers all, And thus do we begin To lead our lives in righteousness, Or else we die in sin.

We have been rambling all this night, And almost all this day, And now returned back again We have brought you a branch of May.

A branch of May we have brought you, And at your door it stands, It is but a sprout, But it’s well budded out By the work of our Lord’s hands.

The hedges and trees they are so green As green as any leek, Our heavenly Father He watered them With his heavenly dew so sweet.

The heavenly gates are open wide, Our paths are beaten plain, And if a man be not too far gone, He may return again.

The life of man is but a span, It flourishes like a flower, We are here to-day, and gone to-morrow, And we are dead in an hour.

The moon shines bright, and the stars give a light, A little before it is day, So God bless you all, both great and small, And send you a joyful May.

In London, thirty years ago, When pretty milkmaids went about, It was a goodly sight to see Their May-day Pageant all drawn out:--

Themselves in comely colours drest, Their shining garland in the middle, A pipe and tabor on before, Or else the foot-inspiring fiddle.

They stopt at houses, where it was Their custom to cry “milk below!” And, while the music play’d, with smiles Join’d hands, and pointed toe to toe.

Thus they tripp’d on, till--from the door The hop’d-for annual present sent-- A signal came, to curtsy low, And at that door cease merriment.

Such scenes, and sounds, once blest my eyes, And charm’d my ears--but all have vanish’d! On May-day, now, no garlands go, For milk-maids, and their dance, are banish’d.

My recollections of these sights “Annihilate both time and space;” I’m boy enough to wish them back, And think their absence--out of place.

May 4, 1825.

From the preceding lines somewhat may be learned of a lately disused custom in London. The milkmaids’ garland was a pyramidical frame, covered with damask, glittering on each side with polished silver plate, and adorned with knots of gay-coloured ribbons, and posies of fresh flowers, surmounted by a silver urn, or tankard. The garland being placed on a wooden horse, was carried by two men, as represented in the engraving, sometimes preceded by a pipe and tabor, but more frequently by a fiddle; the gayest milkmaids followed the music, others followed the garland, and they stopped at their customers’ doors, and danced. The plate, in some of these garlands, was very costly. It was usually borrowed of the pawnbrokers, for the occasion, upon security. One person in that trade was particularly resorted to for this accommodation. He furnished out the entire garland, and let it at so much per hour, under bond from responsible housekeepers for its safe return. In this way one set of milkmaids would hire the garland from ten o’clock till one, and another set would have the garland from one o’clock till six; and so on, during the first three days of May.

It was customary with milk-people of less profitable walks to make a display of another kind, less gaudy in appearance, but better bespeaking their occupation, and more appropriate to the festival. This was an exhibition of themselves, in their best apparel, and of the useful animal which produced the fluid they retailed. One of these is thus described to the editor of the Every-Day Book, by an intelligent eye-witness, and admirer of the pleasant sight. A beautiful country girl “drest all in her best,” and more gaily attired than on any other day, with floral ornaments in her neat little hat, and on her bosom, led her cow, by a rope depending from its horns, garlanded with flowers and knots of ribbons; the horns, neck, and head of the cow were decorated in like manner: a fine net, like those upon ladies’ palfreys, tastefully stuck with flowers, covered Bess’s back, and even her tail was ornamented, with products of the spring, and silken knots. The proprietress of the cow, a neat, brisk, little, matronly body, followed on one side, in holiday-array, with a sprig in her country bonnet, a blooming posy in her handkerchief, and ribbons on her stomacher. This scene was in Westminster, near the old abbey. Ah! those were the days.

The milkmaids’ earlier plate-garland was a pyramid of piled utensils, carried on a stout damsel’s head, under which she danced to the violin.

MAY-FAIR.

The great May-fair was formerly held near Piccadilly. An antiquary, (shudder not, good reader, at the chilling name--he was a kind soul,) Mr. Carter, describes this place in an interesting communication, dated the 6th of March, 1816, to his valued friend, the venerable “Sylvanus Urban.” “Fifty years have passed away since this place of amusement was at its height of attraction: the spot where the fair was held still retains the name of May-fair, and exists in much the same state as at the above period: for instance, Shepherd’s market, and houses surrounding it on the north and east sides, with White Horse-street, Shepherd’s-court, Sun-court, Market-court. Westwards an open space extending to Tyburn (now Park) lane, since built upon, in Chapel-street, Shepherd’s-street, Market-street, Hertford-street, &c. Southwards, the noted Ducking-pond, house, and gardens, since built upon, in a large Riding-school, Carrington-street, (the noted Kitty Fisher lived in this street,) &c. The market-house consisted of two stories; first story, a long and cross aisle, for butcher’s shops, externally, other shops connected with culinary purposes; second story, used as a theatre at fair-time, for dramatic performances. My recollection serves to raise before me the representation of the ‘Revenge,’ in which the only object left on remembrance is the ‘black man,’ Zanga. Below, the butchers gave place to toy-men and gingerbread-bakers. At present, the upper story is unfloored, the lower ditto nearly deserted by the butchers, and their shops occupied by needy peddling dealers in small wares; in truth, a most deplorable contrast to what once was such a point of allurement. In the areas encompassing the market-building were booths for jugglers, prize-fighters, both at cudgels and back-sword, boxing-matches, and wild beasts. The sports not under cover were mountebanks, fire-eaters, ass-racing, sausage-tables, dice-tables, up-and-downs, merry-go-rounds, bull-baiting, grinning for a hat, running for a shift, hasty-pudding eaters, eel-divers, and an infinite variety of other similar pastimes. Among the extraordinary and wonderful delights of the happy spot, take the following items, which still hold a place within my mind, though I cannot affirm they all occurred at one precise season. The account may be relied on, as I was born, and passed my youthful days in the vicinity, in Piccadilly, (Carter’s Statuary,) two doors from the south end of White Horse-street, since rebuilt (occupied at present by lady Pulteney).--Before a large commodious house, with a good disposure of walks, arbours, and alcoves, was an area, with an extensive bason of water, otherwise ‘Ducking-pond,’ for the recreation of lovers of that polite and humane sport. Persons who came with their dogs paid a trifling fee for admission, and were considered the chief patrons and supporters of the pond; others, who visited the place as mere spectators, paid a double fee. A duck was put into the pond by the master of the hunt; the several dogs were then let loose, to seize the bird. For a long time they made the attempt in vain; for, when they came near the devoted victim, she dived under water, and eluded their remorseless fangs. Herein consisted the extreme felicity of the interesting scene. At length, some dog more expert than the rest, caught the feathered prize, and bore it away, amidst the loudest acclamations, to its most fortunate and envied master. This diversion was held in such high repute about the reign of Charles II., that he, and many of his prime nobility, did not disdain to be present, and partake, with their dogs, of the elegant entertainment. In Mrs. Behn’s play of ‘Sir Patient Fancy,’ (written at the above period,) a sir Credulous Easy talks about a cobbler, his dog-tutor, and his expectation of soon becoming ‘the duke of Ducking-pond.’--A ‘Mountebanks’ Stage’ was erected opposite the Three Jolly Butchers’ public-house, (on the east side of the market area, now the King’s Arms.) Here Woodward, the inimitable comedian and harlequin, made his first appearance as merry-andrew; from these humble boards he soon after found his way to Covent-garden theatre.--Then there was ‘Beheading of Puppets.’ In a coal-shed attached to a grocer’s shop, (then Mr. Frith’s, now Mr. Frampton’s,) one of these mock executions was exposed to the attending crowd. A shutter was fixed horizontally; on the edge of which, after many previous ceremonies, a puppet laid its head, and another puppet then instantly chopped it off with an axe. In a circular staircase-window, at the north end of Sun-court, a similar performance took place by another set of puppets. The condemned puppet bowed its head to the cill which, as above, was soon decapitated. In these representations, the late punishment of the Scotch chieftain (lord Lovat) was alluded to, in order to gratify the feelings of southern loyalty, at the expense of that farther north.--In a fore one-pair room, on the west side of Sun-court, a Frenchman submitted to the curious the astonishing strength of the ‘Strong Woman,’ his wife. A blacksmith’s anvil being procured from White Horse-street, with three of the men, they brought it up, and placed it on the floor. The woman was short, but most beautifully and delicately formed, and of a most lovely countenance. She first let down her hair, (a light auburn,) of a length descending to her knees, which she twisted round the projecting part of the anvil, and then, with seeming ease, lifted the ponderous weight some inches from the floor. After this, a bed was laid in the middle of the room; when, reclining on her back, and uncovering her bosom, the husband ordered the smiths to place thereon the anvil, and forge upon it a horse-shoe! This they obeyed; by taking from the fire a red-hot piece of iron, and with their forging hammers completing the shoe, with the same might and indifference as when in the shop at their constant labour. The prostrate fair one appeared to endure this with the utmost composure, talking and singing during the whole process; then, with an effort which to the by-standers seemed like some supernatural trial, cast the anvil from off her body, jumping up at the same moment with extreme gaiety, and without the least discomposure of her dress or person. That no trick or collusion could possibly be practised on the occasion was obvious, from the following evidence:--The audience stood promiscuously about the room, among whom were our family and friends; the smiths were utter strangers to the Frenchman, but known to us; therefore the several efforts of strength must have proceeded from the natural and surprising power this foreign dame was possessed of. She next put her naked feet on a red-hot salamander, without receiving the least injury: but this is a feat familiar with us at this time. Here this kind of gratification to the senses concluded.--Here, too, was ‘Tiddy-doll.’

This celebrated vender of gingerbread, from his eccentricity of character, and extensive dealings in his way, was always hailed as the king of itinerant tradesmen.[127] In his person he was tall, well made, and his features handsome. He affected to dress like a person of rank; white gold laced suit of clothes, laced ruffled shirt, laced hat and feather, white silk stockings, with the addition of a fine white apron. Among his harangues to gain customers, take this as a specimen:-- ‘Mary, Mary, where are you now, Mary? I live, when at home, at the second house in Little Ball-street, two steps under ground, with a wiscum, riscum, and a why-not. Walk in, ladies and gentlemen; my shop is on the second-floor backwards, with a brass knocker at the door. Here is your nice gingerbread, your spice gingerbread; it will melt in your mouth like a red-hot brickbat, and rumble in your inside like Punch and his wheelbarrow.’ He always finished his address by singing this fag end of some popular ballad:--

[Music: Allegretto.

Ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, tid-dy did-dy dol-lol, ti-tid-dy ti-tid-dy ti-ti, tid-dy tid-dy, dol.]

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