Chapter I: FRY (5)

It is especially insisted on by Ribadeneira, that “Ignatius had a strange dominion and command over the devils, who abhorred and persecuted him as their greatest enemy. Whilst he was in his rigorous course of penance at Manresa, Satan often appeared to him in a shining and glistening form, but he discovered the enemy’s fraud and deceit. Several other times, the devil appeared to him in some ugly and foul shape, which he was so little terrified with, that he would contemptibly drive him away with his staff, like a cat, or some troublesome cur. He laboured all he could one day to terrify him, whilst he lived at Alcala, in the hospital, but he lost his labour. At Rome, he would have choked him in his sleep, and he was so hoarse, and his throat so sore, with the violence the devil offered him, that he could hardly speak for a fortnight after. Another time whilst he was in his bed, two devils fell upon him, and whipped him most cruelly, and brother John Paul Castelan, who lay nigh him, and afterwards told it me, heard the blows, and rose up twice that night to help him.” In the year 1545, the college of the society (of Jesuits) which we have at our blessed Lady’s of Loretto, was first begun, and the devils presently began to make war against our fathers in that college, and to molest and disquiet them both by day and by night, making a most terrible clatter and noise, and appearing in sundry shapes and forms, sometimes of a blackamoor, then of a cat and bear, and other beasts, and neither by saying holy mass, praying, sprinkling holy water, using exorcisms, applying relics of saints and the like, could they rid themselves of that molestation, wherefore St. Ignatius, by letters, recommended a firm and strong confidence, and that he on his part would not be wanting to recommend it in his prayers; and from that very hour, (a very remarkable thing,) all those troubles ceased, nor were there seen any more spirits. This happened whilst St. Ignatius was living.” To this, Ribadeneira adds story upon story, of women and maids being tormented by devils, who were discomfited by the mere sight of Ignatius’s picture, “which kept off all the blows and assaults of the ghostly enemy, yet so great was his malice and desire of doing mischief, that he fell furiously upon the chamber walls, and cupboards, chests, coffers, and whatsoever else was in the room, beating upon them with horrible strokes, though he never touched any box wherein was kept a picture of the saint.” He affirms, that the like happened in the year 1599, to a schoolmaster of Ancona:--“These damned spirits,” says Ribadeneira, “opened the doors of his house when they were locked, and shut them when they were left open, swept the chambers, made the beds, lighted the lamps, and then on a sudden put all into disorder and confusion, and removed things from one room into another; but when the good man had hung up a picture of our blessed father in his house, all was quiet within doors, yet a most terrible tumult there was without, for they flung to and fro the doors and windows, and beat as it were, the drum round about his house till he put more pictures of the saint upon the doors, and several parts of the house, when the molestation wholly ceased.” Of the numerous devilries raised and abolished by the saint’s holiness, these specimens may suffice.

To so distinguished and efficient a member of the Romish Church, as Ignatius, the gift of prophecy is, of course, awarded, and the power of working miracles, of necessity, follows; accordingly we find instances of them, “too numerous to mention in this particular.” It is to be expected that his relics were equally miraculous, and hence Ribadeneira’s account is seasoned sufficiently high, for the most discriminating palate of the most miracle-loving epicure. Water wherein a bit of a bone of Ignatius’s body had been dipped, cured the sick at the hospital at Burgos. The letters he wrote were preserved as relics for miraculous purposes; and a later saint carried the autograph of Ignatius about him as a relic. If one of Ignatius’s autographs be coveted in England, it may probably be discovered in the reliquary of Mr. Upcott at the London Institution.

Enough has certainly been said of St Ignatius Loyola; yet less space could hardly have been devoted to the founder of the celebrated order of the Jesuits, a body which perforates and vermiculates through every part of the civilized world wherein the Romish religion predominates, or has ever prevailed. Concerning the present state of an order, composed of men of talent under a vow of poverty; devoted to the papacy, and possessing more wealth than any other catholic fraternity; wearing or not wearing a habit to distinguish them from ordinary citizens in catholic and protestant countries, as may suit their private purposes; prowling unknown, and secretly operating; there can be little gathered, and therefore little to communicate. The coexistence of a free government and a free press is a sure and safe defence from all their machinations.

One circumstance, however, related by all the biographers of Ignatius, must not be forgotten. It stands in Ribadeneira’s life of him thus: “As he was sitting one day upon the steps of St. Dominick’s church, and reading our blessed lady’s office with much devotion, our Lord on a sudden illustrated his understanding, and represented to him a figure of the most blessed trinity, which exteriourly expressed to him what interiourly God gave him to understand. This caused in him so great comfort and spiritual joy, that he could not restrain his sobs and tears, nor speak of any thing but this holy mystery, delivering the high conceit he had of it with so many similitudes and examples, that all who heard him were amazed and astonished, and from that time forward, this ineffable mystery was so imprinted in his soul, that he writ a book of this profound matter which contained fourscore leaves, though at that time he had never studied, and could but only read and write; and he always retained so clear and distinct a knowledge of the trinity of persons, of the divine essence, and of the distinction and propriety of the persons, that he noted in a treatise which was found after his death, written in his own hand, that he could not have learnt so much with many years’ study.” This pretended revelation with figments equally edifying has employed the pencil of the painter. Rubens has left a well-known picture representing Ignatius in his rapture. From a fine print of it, by Bolswert, the engraving at the head of this article has been taken; the picture is in the collection at Warwick Castle.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Great Mullen. _Verbuscum Virgatum._
Dedicated to _St. Ignatius_.

[235] Butler’s Saints.

The eighth was August, being rich array’d
In garment all of gold downe to the ground:
Yet rode he not, but led a lovely mayd
Forth by the lily hand, the which was crown’d
With eares of corne, and full her hand was found.
That was the righteous Virgin, which of old
Liv’d here on earth, and plenty made abound;
But after wrong was lov’d, and justice solde,
She left th’ unrighteous world, and was to heav’n extoll’d.

August is the eighth month of the year. It was called Sextilis by the Romans, from its being the sixth month in their calendar, until the senate complimented the emperor Augustus by naming it after him, and through them it is by us denominated August.

Our Saxon ancestors called it “_Arnmonat_, (more rightly _barn-moneth_,) intending thereby the then filling of their barnes with corne.”[236] _Arn_ is the Saxon word for harvest. According to some they also called it _Woedmonath_, as they likewise called June.[237]

The sign of the zodiac entered by the sun this month is Virgo, the Virgin. Spenser’s personation of it above is pencilled and engraved by Mr. Samuel Williams.

“Admire the deep beauty of this allegorical picture,” says Mr. Leigh Hunt. “Spenser takes advantage of the sign of the zodiac, the Virgin, to convert her into Astrea, the goddess of justice, who seems to return to earth awhile, when the exuberance of the season presents enough for all.”

Mr. Leigh Hunt notes in his _Months_, that,--“This is the month of harvest. The crops usually begin with rye and oats, proceed with wheat, and finish with peas and beans. Harvest-home is still the greatest rural holiday in England, because it concludes at once the most laborious and most lucrative of the farmer’s employments, and unites repose and profit. Thank heaven there are, and must be, seasons of some repose in agricultural employments, or the countryman would work with as unceasing a madness, and contrive to be almost as diseased and unhealthy as the citizen. But here again, and for the reasons already mentioned, our holiday-making is not what it was. Our ancestors used to burst into an enthusiasm of joy at the end of harvest, and appear even to have mingled their previous labour with considerable merry-making, in which they imitated the equality of the earlier ages. They crowned the wheat-sheaves with flowers, they sung, they shouted, they danced, they invited each other, or met to feast, as at Christmas, in the halls of rich houses; and what was a very amiable custom, and wise beyond the commoner wisdom that may seem to lie on the top of it, every one that had been concerned, man, woman, and child, received a little present--ribbons, laces, or sweatmeats.

“The number of flowers is now sensibly diminished. Those that flower newly are nigella, zinnias, polyanthuses, love-apples, mignionette, capsicums, Michaelmas daisies, auriculus, asters, or stars, and China-asters. The additional trees and shrubs in flower are the tamarisk, altheas, Venetian sumach, pomegranates, the beautiful passion-flower, the trumpet-flower, and the virgin’s bower, or clematis, which is such a quick and handsome climber. But the quantity of fruit is considerably multiplied, especially that of pears, peaches, apricots, and grapes. And if the little delicate wild flowers have at last withdrawn from the hot sun, the wastes, marshes, and woods are dressed in the luxuriant attire of ferns and heaths, with all their varieties of green, purple, and gold. A piece of waste land, especially where the ground is broken up into little inequalities, as Hampstead-heath, for instance, is now a most bright as well as picturesque object; all the ground, which is in light, giving the sun, as it were, gold for gold. Mignonette, intended to flower in the winter, should now be planted in pots, and have the benefit of a warm situation. Seedlings in pots should have the morning sunshine, and annuals in pots be frequently watered.

“In the middle of this month, the young goldfinch broods appear, lapwings congregate, thistle-down floats, and birds resume their spring songs:--a little afterwards flies abound in windows, linnets congregate, and bulls make their shrill autumnal bellowing; and towards the end the beech tree turns yellow,--the first symptom of approaching autumn.”

The garden blooms with vegetable gold,
And all Pomona in the orchard glows,
Her racy fruits now glory in the sun,
The wall-enamour’d flower in saffron blows,
Gay annuals their spicy sweets unfold,
To cooling brooks the panting cattle run:
Hope, the forerunner of the farmer’s gain,
Visits his dreams and multiplies the grain.

More hot it grows; ye fervours of the sky
Attend the virgin--lo! she comes to hail
Your sultry radiance.--Now the god of day
Meets her chaste star--be present zephyr’s gale
To fan her bosom--let the breezes fly
On silver pinions to salute his ray;
Bride of his soft desires, with comely grace
He clasps the virgin to his warm embrace.

The reapers now their shining sickles bear
A band illustrious, and the sons of Health!
They bend, they toil across the wide champaign,
Before them Ceres yields her flowing wealth;
The partridge-covey to the copse repair
For shelter, sated with the golden grain,
Bask on the bank, or thro’ the clover run
Yet safe from fetters, and the slaughtering gun.

[236] Verstegan.

[237] Dr. F. Sayers.

~August 1.~

_St. Peter ad Vincula_, or St. Peter’s chains. _The seven Machabees_,
Brothers, with their Mother. _Sts. Faith, Hope, and Charity_. _St.
Etholwold_, Bp. A. D. 984. _St. Pellegrini_, or _Peregrinus_, A. D.
643.

_St. Peter ad Vincula, or the Feast of St. Peter’s chains._

The Romish church pretending to possess one of the chains wherewith Peter was bound, and from which the angel delivered him, indulges its votaries with a festival in its honour on this day. “Pagan Rome,” says Alban Butler, “never derived so much honour from the spoils and trophies of a conquered world, as christian Rome receives from the corporal remains of these two glorious apostles, (Peter and Paul,) before which the greatest emperors lay down their diadems, and prostrate themselves.” Be it observed, that the papacy also pretends to possess the chains of Paul: pope Gregory writing to the empress Constantia tells her he will quickly send her some part of Paul’s chains, if it be possible for him to file any off;--“for,” says Gregory, “since so many frequently come begging a benediction from the chains, that they may receive a little of the filings thereof, therefore a priest is ready with a file; and when _some_ persons petition for it, presently in a moment something is filed off for them from the chains; but when _others_ petition, though the file be drawn a great while through the chains, yet cannot the least jot be got off.” Upon this, bishop Patrick says,--“One may have leave to ask, why should not this miraculous chain of St. Paul have a festival appointed in memory of it, as well as that of St. Peter? you may take Baronius’s answer to it till you can meet with a better.” Baronius, the great Romish luminary and authority in the affairs of papal martyrs, relics, and miracles, says,--“Truly the bonds of St. Peter seem not without reason to be worshipped, though the bonds of the other apostles are not: for it is but fit, that since he has the chief power in the church of binding and loosing other men’s bonds, that his bonds also should be had in honour of all the faithful.” This is a sufficing reason to the believers in the “binding and loosing” according to the gloss put upon that power by Romish writers.

The empress Eudocia is affirmed to have brought the two chains of St. Peter from Jerusalem, in the year 439, one whereof she gave to a church in Constantinople, and sent the other to Rome, where the old lady’s chain has yielded, or not yielded, to the raspings of the file from time immemorial. This chain was pleased to part with some of its particles to the emperor Justinian, who sent ambassadors begging to the pope for a small portion. “The popes,” says Butler, “were accustomed to send the filings as precious relics to devout princes--they were often instruments of miracles--and the pope himself rasped them off for king Childebert, and enclosed them in a golden _key_ to be hung about the neck.” Childebert, no doubt, experienced its aperient qualities. They would be very serviceable to the papal interest at this period.

_Gule of August._

The first day of August is so called. According to Gebelin, as the month of August was the first in the Egyptian year, it was called Gule, which being latinized, makes Gula, a word in that language signifying throat. “Our legendaries,” says Brand, “surprised at seeing this word at the head of the month of August, converted it to their own purpose.” They made out of it the feast of the daughter of the tribune Quirinus, who they pretend was cured of a disorder in the throat, (Gula,) by kissing the chain of St. Peter on the day of its festival. Forcing the _Gule_ of the Egyptians into the _throat_ of the tribune’s daughter, they instituted a festival to _Gule_ upon the festival-day of _St. Peter ad Vincula_.

_Lammas-day._

So stands the first of August in our English almanacs, and so it stands in the printed _Saxon Chronicle_. “Antiquaries,” says Brand, “are divided in their opinions concerning the origin of _Lammas_-Day; some derive it from Lamb-Mass, because on that day the tenants who held lands under the cathedral church in York, which is dedicated to St. Peter ad Vincula, were bound by their tenure to bring a live lamb into the church at high mass: others derive it from a supposed offering or tything of lambs at this time.” Various other derivations have been imagined. Blount, the glossographer, says, that Lammas is called Hlaf-Mass, that is Loaf-Mass, or Bread-Mass, which signifies a feast of thanksgiving for the first fruits of the corn. It was observed with bread of new wheat, and in some places tenants are bound to bring new wheat to their lord, on, or before, the first of August. New wheat is called Lammas-Wheat. Vallancey affirms that this day was dedicated, in Ireland, to the sacrifice of the fruits of the soil; that _La-ith-mas_ the day of the obligation of grain, is pronounced La-ee-mas, a word readily corrupted to Lammas; that _ith_, signifies all kinds of grain, particularly wheat, and that _mas_ signifies fruit of all kinds, especially the acorn, whence the word mast.[238] From these explications may easily be derived the reasonable meaning of the word Lammas.

JULIET, CAPULET, AND PETRARCH.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,

As in your little calendar of worthy observancies you sometimes notice the birthdays of those whom we most desire, and who most deserve to be remembered, and as I am one, who like yourself, am unwilling any thing should be forgotten, or trodden down under the feet of thoughtless and passing generations, that has pleasant speculation in it, pray remember that on the first day of August, Francisco Petrarca was born.--But remember also, that on that same day, in 1578, was born _our_ Juliet Capulet. “On Lammas eve at night shall she be _fourteen_. That shall she, marry; I remember it well. ’Tis since the earthquake now _eleven years_, an’ she was weaned.” Shakspeare’s characters, as we all know, be they of what country or of what age they may, speak as an Englishman would have done in his own times, and the earthquake here referred to was felt in 1580. That Juliet, _our_ Juliet, should have been born on the very same day as Petrarch was certainly accidental; yet it is a coincidence worth observing; and if a calendar of birthdays be to recall pleasant recollections, over “our chirping cups,” why may not Juliet be remembered, and her sweetly poetical existence be associated with the reality of Petrarca’s life. And where is the difference? Petrarca is,

-------nor hand nor foot
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man.

And what are all the great men that have ever lived but such mocking names? Montaigne, who translated a theological work by Raimondi di Sibondi, on being told by some learned friend that he suspected it was but an abstract of St. Thomas of Aquin, says “’tis a pity to _rob Sibondi_ of _his_ honours on such slight authority:”--what honours? when are they offered? to whom? it is not known that such a man ever had existence! Not love, nor reverence, nor idolatrous admiration can stay the progress of oblivion: the grave shuts us out for ever from our fellows, and our generation is the limit of our personal and real existence:--mind only is immortal. Francisco Petrarca was dead, and buried, and forgotten, five hundred years ago: he is now no more in reality than Juliet; nay, to myself, not so much so. The witches in Macbeth, though pure creations, have more of flesh and blood reality, are more familiar to the thoughts of all, than the Lancashire witches that lived cotemporary with the poet, and suffered death from the superstition of the age. There have been many Shakspeares, we _know_ but one; that one indeed, from association and recollection, has a real character in our minds, and a real presence in our hearts:--have we neither association nor recollection with the name Juliet Capulet?

D.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Stramony. _Datura Stramonium._
Dedicated to _St. Peter ad Vincula_.

[238] Brand.

~August 2.~

_St. Stephen_, Pope, A. D. 257. _St. Etheldritha, or Alfrida._ A. D.
834.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Tiger Lily. _Lilium tigrinum._
Dedicated to _St. Alfrida_.

~August 3.~

_The Invention of St. Stephen_, or the discovery of his relics, A. D.
415. _St. Nicodemus._ _St. Gamaliel_, A. D. 415. _St. Walthen_, or
_Waltheof_, A. D. 1160.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Holyhock. _Althea rosea._
Dedicated to _The Invention of St. Stephen’s Relics_.

~August 4.~

_St. Dominic_, Confessor, founder of the friar preachers, A. D. 1221.
_St. Luanus_, or _Lugid_, or _Molua_, of Ireland, A. D. 622.

CHRONOLOGY.

Holinshed records, that in the year 1577, “on Sundaie the fourth of August, betweene the houres of nine and ten of the clocke in the forenone, whilest the minister was reading of the second lesson in the parish church of Bliborough, a towne in Suffolke, a strange and terrible tempest of lightening and thunder strake thorough the wall of the same church into the ground almost a yard deepe, draue downe all the people on that side aboue twentie persons, then renting the wall up to the veustre, cleft the doore, and returning to the steeple, rent the timber, brake the chimes, and fled towards Bongie, a towne six miles off. The people that were striken downe were found groueling more than halfe an houre after, whereof one man more than fortie yeares, and a boie of fifteene yeares, old were found starke dead: the other were scorched. The same or the like flash of lightening and cracks of thunder rent the parish church of Bongie, nine miles from Norwich, wroong in sunder the wiers and wheels of the clocks, slue two men which sat in the belfreie, when the other were at the procession or suffrages, and scorched an other which hardlie escaped.”

This damage by lightning to the church of Bungay, in Suffolk, is most curiously narrated in an old tract, entitled “A straunge and terrible Wunder wrought very late in the parish Church of Bongay, a Town of no great distance from the citie of Norwich, namely the fourth of this August in y^{e} yeere of our Lord, 1577, in a great tempest of violent raine, lightning, and thunder, the like whereof hath been seldome seene. With the appeerance of an horrible shaped thing, sensibly perceiued of the people then and there assembled. Drawen into a plain method, according to the written copye, by _Abraham Fleming_.”

Mr. Rodd, bookseller, in Great Newport-street, Leicester-square, well known to collectors by his catalogues and collections of rare and curious works, has reprinted this tract, and says, on the authority of Newcourt’s “Repertorium,” vol i., p. 519, wherein he is corroborated by Antony Wood, in his “Athenæ Oxoniensis;” that of the narrator, Abraham Fleming, nothing more is known than that he was rector of St. Pancras, Soper-lane, from October, 1593, till 1607, in which year he died. “He was probably,” says Mr. Rodd, “a schoolmaster, as his almost literal translation of ‘Virgil’s Pastorals’ into English metre without rhime, and his edition of ‘Withall’s Dictionary,’ were intended for the use of beginners in Latin. From his numerous writings and translations, (a list of which may be seen in Ames, Tanner, &c.,) he appears to have been an industrious author, and most probably subsisted on the labours of his pen.”

In a monitory preface, well befitting the context, Abraham Fleming says, “The order of the thing as I receiued the sāe I have committed to paper, for the present viewe and perusing of those that are disposed. It is grounded uppon trueth, and therefore not only worthie the writing and publishing, but also the hearing and considering.” He then proceeds to “reporte” his “straunge and wonderful spectacle,” in these words:--

“Sunday, being the fourth of this August, in y^{e} yeer of our Lord, 1577, to the amazing and singular astonishment of the present beholders, and absent hearers, at a certein towne called Bongay, not past tenne miles distant from the citie of Norwiche, there fell from heaven an exceeding great and terrible tempest, sodein and violent, between nine of the clock in the morning and tenne of the day aforesaid.

“This tempest took beginning with a rain, which fel with a wonderful force and with no lesse violence then abundance, which made the storme so much the more extream and terrible.

“This tempest was not simply of rain, but also of lightning and thunder, the flashing of the one whereof was so rare and vehement, and the roaring noise of the other so forceable and violent, that it made not only people perplexed in minde and at their wits end, but ministred such straunge and unaccustomed cause of feare to be cōceived, that dumb creatures with y^{e} horrour of that which fortuned, were exceedingly disquieted, and senselesse things void of all life and feeling, shook and trembled.

“There were assembled at the same season, to hear divine service and common prayer, according to order, in the parish church of the said towne of Bongay, the people thereabouts inhabiting, who were witnesses of the straungenes, the rarenesse and sodenesse of the storm, consisting of raine violently falling, fearful flashes of lightning, and terrible cracks of thūder, which came with such unwonted force and power, that to the perceiving of the people, at the time and in the place aboue named, assembled, the church did as it were quake and stagger, which struck into the harts of those that were present, such a sore and sodain feare, that they were in a manner robbed of their right wits.

“Immediately hereupō, there appeared in a most horrible similitude and likenesse to the congregation then and there present, a dog as they might discerne it, of a black colour; at the sight whereof, togither with the fearful flashes of fire which then were seene, moved such admiration in the mindes of the assemblie, that they thought doomes day was already come.

“This black dog, or the divel in such a likenesse (God hee knoweth al who worketh all,) runing all along down the body of the church with great swiftnesse, and incredible haste, among the people, in a visible fourm and shape, passed between two persons, as they were kneeling uppon their knees, and occupied in prayer as it seemed, wrung the necks of them bothe at one instant clene backward, in somuch that even at a momēt where they kneeled, they strāgely dyed.

“This is a wōderful example of God’s wrath, no doubt to terrifie us, that we might feare him for his iustice, or pulling back out footsteps from the pathes of sinne, to love him for his mercy.

“To our matter again. There was at y^{e} same time another wonder wrought: for the same black dog, stil continuing and remaining in one and the self same shape, passing by an other man of the congregation in the church, gave him such a gripe on the back, that therwith all he was presently drawen togither and shrunk up, as it were a peece of lether scorched in a hot fire; or as the mouth of a purse or bag, drawen togither with a string. The man, albeit hee was in so straunge a taking, dyed not, but as it is thought is yet alive: whiche thing is mervelous in the eyes of men, and offereth much matter of amasing the minde.

“Moreouer, and beside this, the clark of the said church beeing occupied in cleansing of the gutter of the church, with a violent clap of thunder was smitten downe, and beside his fall had no further harme: unto whom beeing all amased this straunge shape, whereof we have before spoken, appeared, howbeit he escaped without daunger: which might peradventure seem to sound against trueth, and to be a thing incredible: but, let us leave thus or thus to iudge, and cry out with the prophet, _O Domine_, &c.--O Lord, how wonderful art thou in thy woorks.

“At the time that these things in this order happened, the rector, or curate of the church, beeing partaker of the people’s perplexitie, seeing what was seen, and done, comforted the people, and exhorted them to prayer, whose counsell, in such extreme distresse they followed, and prayed to God as they were assembled togither.

“Now for the verifying of this report, (which to sōe wil seem absurd, although the sensiblenesse of the thing it self confirmeth it to be a trueth,) as testimonies and witnesses of the force which rested in this straunge shaped thing, there are remaining in the stones of the church, and likewise in the church dore which are mervelously rēten and torne, y^{e} marks as it were of his clawes or talans. Beside, that all the wires, the wheeles, and other things belonging to the clock, were wrung in sunder, and broken in peces.

“And (which I should haue tolde you in the beginning of this report, if I had regarded the observing of order,) at the time that this tempest lasted, and while these stormes endured, y^{e} whole church was so darkened, yea with such a palpable darknesse, that one persone could not perceive another, neither yet might discern any light at all though it were lesser thē the least, but onely when y^{e} great flashing of fire and lightning appeared.

“These things are not lightly with silence to be over passed, but precisely and throughly to be considered.

“On the self same day, in like manner, into the parish church of another towne called Blibery, not above sevē miles distant from Bongay above said, the like thing entred, in the same shape and similitude, where placing himself uppon a maine balke or beam, whereon some y^{e} Rood did stand, sodainly he gave a swinge downe through y^{e} church, and there also, as before, slew two men and a lad, and burned the hand of another person that was there among the rest of the company, of whom divers were blasted.

“This mischief thus wrought, he flew with wonderful force to no little feare of the assembly, out of the church in a hideous and hellish likenes.”

For “a necessary prayer,” and other particulars concerning this “straunge and terrible wunder,” which was “Imprinted at London, by Frauncis Godly, dwelling at the West End of Paules,” the curious reader may consult Mr. Rodd’s verbatim reprint of the tract itself, which is a “rare” distortion of a thunder storm with lightning, well worthy to be possessed by collectors of the marvellous untruths with which Abraham Fleming’s age abounded.

* * * * *

1825. This day at the Northumberland assizes, James Coates, aged twenty-two, and John Blakie, aged sixteen, were found guilty of robbing Thomas Hindmarch of his watch, on Sunday, the 20th of March last. It appeared that Hindmarch, who lived at Howden Panns near Shields, had been at Newcastle on Carling Sunday, a day so called, because it is the custom of the lower orders in the north of England to eat immense quantities of small peas, called carlings, fried in butter, pepper, and salt, on the second Sunday before Easter, and that on his way home about half-past ten at night his watch was snatched from him. The circumstance is noticed as an instance of the practice of keeping Care Sunday at the present time.

* * * * *

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Blue Bells. _Campanula rotundifolia._
Dedicated to _St. Dominic_.

~August 5.~

_The Dedication of St. Mary ad Nives._ _St. Oswald_, King. _St. Afra_,
and Companions, A. D. 304. _St. Memmius_, or _Menge_, Bp. A. D. 290.

_An Every-Day Complaint._

In the “London Chronicle” of the 5th of August, 1758, there is an advertisement from a sufferer under a disease of such a nature that, though the cure is simple, a description of the various afflictions and modes of relief peculiar to the progress of the disorder would fill many volumes. To guard the young wholly against it is impossible; for like the small pox, every one must expect to have it once, and when it is taken in the natural way, and if the remedy is at hand, and the patient follows good advice, recovery speedily follows. The advertisement alluded to runs thus:--

A young lady who was at Vauxhall on Thursday night last, in company
with two gentlemen, could not but observe a young gentleman in blue
and a gold-laced hat, who, being near her by the orchestra during the
performance, especially the last song, gazed upon her with the utmost
attention. He earnestly hopes (if unmarried) she will favour him with
a line directed to A. D. at the bar of the Temple Exchange
Coffee-house, Temple-bar, to inform him whether fortune, family, and
character, may not entitle him upon a further knowledge, to hope an
interest in her heart. He begs she will pardon the method he has taken
to let her know the situation of his mind, as, being a stranger, he
despaired of doing it any other way, or even of seeing her more. As
his views are founded upon the most honourable principles, he presumes
to hope the occasion will justify it, if she generously breaks through
this trifling formality of the sex, rather than, by a cruel silence,
render unhappy one, who must ever expect to continue so, if debarred
from a nearer acquaintance with her, in whose power alone it is to
complete his felicity.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Egyptian Water Lily. _Nelumbo Nilotica._
Dedicated to _Our Lady ad Nives_.

~August 6.~

_The Transfiguration of our Lord._ _St. Xystus_, or _Sixtus_ II., Pope
and Martyr. _Sts. Justus_ and _Pastor_, A. D. 304.

_Transfiguration._

This, which stands in the English almanacs on the present day, is the name of a popish festival, in celebration of the glorified appearance of Christ on mount Tabor.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Meadow Saffron. _Colchicum autumnale._
Dedicated to the _Transfiguration_.

~August 7.~

_St. Cajetan_, A. D. 1547. _St. Donatus_, Bp. A. D. 361.

_Name of Jesus._

There is no satisfactory reason for this nomination of the present day in our almanacs.

THE PRINCESS AMELIA.

On the 7th of August, 1783, the princess Amelia, daughter to his late majesty, was born; and on the 2d of November, 1810, she died at Windsor. Her constitution was delicate, and subject to frequent and severe indisposition. On her death-bed she anxiously desired to present his majesty with a token of her filial duty and affection; himself was suffering under an infirmity, the most appalling and humiliating in our nature, and in that state he approached her death-bed. She placed on his finger a ring containing a small lock of her hair, set beneath a crystal tablet, enclosed by a few sparks of diamonds, and uttered with her dying breath “Remember me!” The words sunk deep into the paternal heart, and are supposed to have increased a malady in the king, which suspended his exercise of the royal functions, and ended in the extinction of man’s noblest faculty.

The princess Amelia’s character has hitherto lain in the oblivion of silent merit. The editor of these sheets is enabled to disclose sentiments emanating from her, under circumstances peculiarly affecting. Dignity of station and absence of stain upon her reputation, commanded towards her the respect and sympathy which accident of birth, and abstinence from evil, always command in the public mind: but there are higher claims upon it.

Homage, by rule and precedent prescribed,
To royal daughters from the courtier-ring
Amelia had; and, when she ceased to live,
The herald wrote her death beneath her birth;
And set out arms for scutcheons on her pall;
And saw her buried in official state;
And newspapers and magazines doled out
The common praise of common courtesy;
She was “most” good, “most” virtuous, and--so forth.
Thus, ere the Chamberlain’s gazetted order
To mourn, so many days, and then half-mourn,
Had half expired, Amelia was forgotten!
Unknown by one distinguish’d act, her fate,
The certain fate of undistinguished rank,
Seems only to have been, and died; no more.
Yet shall this little book send down her name,
By her own hand inscribed, as in an album,
With reverence to our posterity.
It will revive her in the minds of those
Who scarce remember that she was; and will
Enkindle kind affection to her memory,
For worth we knew not in her when she lived;
While some who living, shared her heart, perchance,
May read her sentences with wetted eyes,
And say, “She, being dead, yet speaketh.”

The princess Amelia relieved the indigent friends of three infant females from care, as to their wants, by fostering them at her own expense. She caused them to be educated, and placed them out to businesses, by learning which they might acquire the means of gaining their subsistence in comfort and respectability. They occasionally visited her, and to one of them she was peculiarly attached; her royal highness placed her with Mrs. Bingley, her dressmaker, in Piccadilly. In this situation

----“long she flourish’d,
Grew sweet to sense and lovely to the eye,
Until at length the cruel spoiler came,
Pluck’d this fair flow’r and rifled all its sweetness,
Then flung it like a loathsome weed away.”

The seduction of this young female deeply afflicted the princess’s feelings; and she addressed a letter to her, written throughout by her own hand, which marks her reverence for virtue, and her pity for one who diverged from its prescriptions. It is in the possession of the editor, and because it has never been published, he places it to note the anniversary of her royal highness’s birth in the _Every-Day Book_. It is a public memorial of her worth; the only record of her high principles and affectionate disposition.

(COPY.)

The accounts I have received of you, My poor Mary from Mrs. Bingley,
have given me the greatest concern, and have surprised me as well as
hurt me; as I had hoped you were worthy of the kindness you
experienced from Mrs. Bingley, and were not undeserving of all that
had been done for you.

Much as you have erred, I am willing to hope, My poor Girl, that those
religious principles you possessed are still firm, and that they will,
with the goodness of God, show you your faults, and make you to
repent, and return to what I hoped you were--a good and virtuous
Girl. You may depend on my never forsaking you as long as I can be
your friend. Nothing but your conduct not being what it ought to be,
can make me give you up. Forget you, I never _could_. Believe me,
nothing shall be wanting, on my part, to restore you to what you were;
but you must be _honest_, open, and true. Make Mrs. K----, who is so
sincerely your wellwisher, your friend. Conceal nothing from her, and
believe me, much as it may cost _you_, at the moment, to speak out,
you will find relief afterwards, and I trust it may enable us to make
you end your days happily.

To Mrs. Bingley, and all with her, you never can sufficiently feel
grateful. Her conduct has been that of the kindest mother and friend,
and, I trust, such friends you will ever try to preserve; for, if with
propriety they can continue their kindness to you, it will be an
everlasting blessing for you: but, after all that has happened, My
dear Mary, I cannot consent to leaving you there. Though I trust, from
all I hear, your conduct now is proper, and will continue so, yet, for
the sake of the other young people, it must be _wrong_, and if you
possess that feeling, and repent, as I hope you do, you cannot but
think I am right. I trust you feel all your errors, and with the
assistance of God you will live to make amends; yet your conduct must
be made an example of. The misfortune of _turning out of the right
path_, cannot be too strongly impressed on the minds of all young
people.--Alas! you now know it from experience. All I say I feel
doubly, from wishing you well.

Be open and true, and whatever can be done, to make you happy, will.
Truth is one of the most necessary Virtues, and whoever _deviates_
from that, runs from one error into another--not to say Vice. I have
heard you accused Mrs. Bingley of harshness; that I conceive to be
_utterly impossible_; but I attribute your saying so to a mind in the
greatest affliction, and not knowing what you were about. I pity you
from my heart, but you have brought this on yourself, and you must now
pray to God, for his assistance, to enable you to return to the right
path.

Why should you fear Me? I do not deserve it, and your feeling the
_force_ of your own _faults_ can only occasion it; for I feel I am,
and wish to be, a friend to three young people I have the charge of,
and to make them fit to gain their own bread, and assist their
families. For you I have felt particularly, being an orphan, and I
_had_ never had cause to regret the charge I had. Your poor parents
have been saved a heavy blow. Conceive what their affliction must have
been, had they lived to know of your conduct. I trust my poor Mary may
yet live to renew all our feelings of regard for her, and that I
shall have the comfort to hear many good accounts of your conduct and
health. Unless your mind is at ease you cannot enjoy health.

Be assured I shall be happy to find I have reason, always, to
subscribe my self,

_Amelia_]

So wrote one of the daughters of England. We hail her a child of the nation by her affiance to virtue, the creator of our moral grandeur, and the preserver of our national dignity. Private virtue is the stability of states.

In the princess Amelia’s letter there is a natural union of powerful sense and exquisite sensibility; it has an easy, common-place air, but a mind that examines the grounds, and searches into the reasons of things, will discover the “root of the matter.” Comment upon it is abstained from, that it may be read and studied.

The crime of seduction is fashionable, because hitherto fashion has been criminal with impunity. The selfish destroyer of female innocence, can prevail on some wives and mothers by varnish of manner, and forcefulness of wealth, to the degradation of sanctioning his entertainments by their presence. Like the fabled upas-tree of Java, he lives a deadly poison to wither and destroy all within his shadow. Uneasiness from a lash of small cords in a feeble hand, he retaliates by a horsewhip: monstrous sensualists must be punished by scourges of flame from vigorous arms, and be hunted by hue and cry, till they find sanctuary in some remote hiding-place for blood-guiltiness.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Common Amaranth. _Amaranthus hypochondriacus._
Dedicated to _St. Cajetan_.

~August 8.~

_Sts. Cyriacus_, _Largus_, _Smaragdus_, and their Companions, Martyrs,
A. D. 303. _St. Hormisdas._

FUNERALS IN CUMBERLAND.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,

The variety of funeral-rites and ceremonies, prevalent in different ages and countries, has been so great as to forbid any attempt to enumerate them; but it is consistent with the character and design of the _Every-Day Book_, to record the peculiar customs which have existed in different districts of our native land: for although your motto from old Herrick, does not refer to any thing of a serious kind, yet, in the number of those which you promise the world to “tell of” I perceive that such matters are sometimes related. I proceed, therefore, to detail the circumstances which preceded and attended the interment of the dead in the county of Cumberland, within the last twenty years: they are now discontinued, except, perhaps, in some of the smaller villages, or amongst the humblest class in society. Whether the customs I am about to describe, have been observed in the southern parts of England, I know not; I shall, therefore, confine myself to what has frequently passed under my own observation in my native town.

No sooner had the passing-bell intimated to the inhabitants that an acquaintance or neighbour had departed for that “bourne whence no traveller returns,” than they began to contemplate a call at the “Corse-house,” (for such was the denomination of the house of mourning,) within which preparations were made by the domestics to receive all who might come. To this end all the apartments were prepared for the reception of visitors with the exception of the chamber of death: one for the seclusion of the survivors of the family, and the domestic offices.

The interval between the death and the interment is at present, I believe, extended beyond what was usual at the time I refer to: it was then two days and two nights, varying accordingly as the demise took place in the early or latter part of the day.

The assemblage at the Corse-house, was most numerous during the evening; at which time many persons, who were engaged during the day in their several avocations, found leisure to be present: many of the females made their call, however, during the afternoon. The concourse of visitors rendered the house like a tavern; their noise and tumult being little restrained, and their employment being the drinking of wine or spirits with the smoking of tobacco; and if only some made use of the “stinking herb,” all partook of the juice of the grape. Instances could be adduced in which moderation gave way to excess.

The conversation turned, often upon the character of the deceased, at least when generally respected; “de mortuis nil nisi bonum;” the ordinary topics of the day were discussed: perhaps the Irish people were ridiculed for their barbarism in _waking their dead_: and each individual as inclination prompted him, retired to make room for another, thus maintaining a pretty rapid succession of arrivals and departures, with the exception of, perhaps, one or two who embraced so favourable an opportunity for economical indulgence. “Where the carcase is there will the eagles be gathered together.”

I must, however, observe in justice to the good taste of my townsmen, that many of them rather assented to the custom than approved it; but an omission to attend a Corse-house, with the occupants of which you were even slightly acquainted, was considered a mark of disrespect to the memory of the dead, and the feelings of the survivors.

It happened, however, that a gentleman (a stranger to this custom,) settled in the town I refer to, and, after a short residence, a death occurred in his family: he at once resolved to deviate from a practice which he did not approve. The first visitors to his house observed that no preparations were made for their reception, and were respectfully told by a servant, that open house would not be kept on the occasion: the news soon spread, and so did the example; a native of the town soon followed it, and a custom fell into desuetude, which the warmest admirers of ancient practices could scarcely desire to perpetuate. Originating probably in the exercise of the social affections, and of that hospitality which was convenient enough in periods when population was thin and widely scattered, they degenerated from their original use, and were “more honoured in the breach than the observance.” Antiquity might, perhaps, plead in their defence. The ancient Jews made great use of music in their funeral rites; before Christ exerted his power in the restoration of the ruler’s daughter, who was supposed to be dead, he caused to be put forth “the minstrels and the people making a noise.” Matt. c. 9, v. 23, _et seq._

The ceremonies, which I am now going to describe, are still in existence; and evince no symptoms of decay. On the evening preceding the day appointed for the interment, the parish-clerk perambulates the town, carrying a deep and solemn-toned bell, by means of which he announces his approach to various places at which he is accustomed to stop, and give utterance to his mournful message. Well do I remember the deep interest with which I and my youthful associates listened to the melancholy tones of his sepulchral voice, whilst toys were disregarded, and trifling for a moment suspended! As the sounds of the “Death-bell” died away, it was proclaimed thus: “All friends and neighbours are desired to attend the funeral of ---- from -----street, to Mary’s Chapel: the corpse to be taken up at ---- o’clock.” What crowds of little urchins feeling a mixed sensation of fear and curiosity were congregated! What casements were half-opened whilst mute attention lent her willing ear to seize upon the name of the departed, and the hour of burial!

I have known a party at “a round game” hushed into silence: and a whist party thrown into a sort of reverie, and there remain till Mrs. What-d’ye-call-’em asked Mrs. What’s-her-name, if clubs were trumps? or chid her partner for being guilty of a revoke on account of so common a thing as the “Death-bell.”

On the following day the clerk proceeds to the Corse-house, about an hour before the procession is formed. A small table covered with a white napkin, on which are placed wines and spirits, is put at the door of the house within and around which the people assemble: the clerk takes his place by the table, to assist to a glass of liquor, any person who may approach it. The coffin being brought forth, the clerk takes his place in front of the procession, and is usually attended by a number of those who form the choir on Sunday, all being uncovered. A psalm is sung as the cavalcade moves slowly through the streets. The rest of the “friends and neighbours” follow the corpse to the church, where the ordinary services conclude; and thus concludes the “strange eventful history,” related by, sir,

Yours faithfully,

J. B----.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Love lies bleeding. _Amaranthus procumbens._
Dedicated to _St. Hormisdas_.

~August 9.~

_St. Romanus._ _St. Nathy_, or _David_, A. D. 530. _St. Fedlemid_, or
_Felimy_, Bp. of Kilmore, 6th Cent.

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FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Jacobæan Ragweed. _Senecio jacobea._
Dedicated to _St. Romanus_.

_The Willow._

According to T. N., a Cambridge correspondent, this tree is, in that county, called the Cambridge oak. Old Fuller calls it “a sad tree, whereof such who have lost their love make their _mourning garlands_; and we know that exiles hung up their harps upon such doleful supporters. The twigs hereof are physick to drive out the folly of children. This tree delighteth in moist places, and is triumphant in the _Isle of Ely_, where the roots strengthen their banks, and top affords fuell for their fire. It groweth incredibly fast, it being a by-word in this county, that the profit by willows will buy the owner a horse before that by other trees will pay for his saddle. Let me add, that if _green ashe_ may burne before a queen, _withered willows_ may be allowed to burne before a lady.” The old saying, “She is in her willows” is here illustrated; it implies the mourning of a female for her lost mate.

_The Willow_ (Salix)

In _Sylvan Sketches_, to an account of the willow, elegant poetical illustrations are attached, from whence are extracted the subjoined agreeable notices.

According to some botanists, there are more than fifty British willows only. The sweet, or bay-leaved willow, _salix pentandria_, is much used in Yorkshire for making baskets; its leaves afford a yellow dye. Baskets are also made from the osier, which belongs to this genus; but of the willows, the bitter purple willow, _salix purpurea_, is the best adapted for the finest basket-work. The common, or white willow, _salix alba_, takes its specific name from the white silken surface of the leaves on the under side. The bark is used to tan leather, and to dye yarn of a cinnamon colour. It is one of the trees to which the necessitous Kamtschatdales are often obliged to recur for their daily bread, which they make of the inner bark, ground into flour. The bark of this willow has in some cases been found a good substitute for the Peruvian bark. The grey willow, or sallow, _salix cinerea_, grows from six to twelve feet high. In many parts of England, children gather the flowering branches of this tree on Palm Sunday, and call them palms. With the bark, the inhabitants of the Highlands and the Hebrides tan leather. The wood, which is soft, white, and flexible, is made into handles for hatchets, spades, &c. It also furnishes shoemakers with their cutting-boards, and whetting-boards to smooth the edges of their knives upon.