Part 45
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.
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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.
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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.
¶. ¶.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.