offices do nothing, but drink soda-water and spruce-beer, and read the news paper. Now the old clothes-man drops his solitary cry more deeply into the areas on the hot and forsaken side of the street; and bakers look vicious; and cooks are aggravated and the steam of a ta vern kitchen catches hold of one like the breath of Tartarus. Now delicate skins are beset with gnats; and boys make their sleeping companion start up, with playing a burning-glass on his hand; and blacksmiths are super-carbonated; and coblers in their stalls almost feel a wish to be transplanted; and butter is too easy to spread; and the dragoons wonder whether the Romans liked their helmets; and old ladies, with their lappets unpinned, walk along in a state of dilapidation; and the servant-maids are afraid they look vulgarly hot; and the author, who has a plate of strawberries brought him, finds that he has come to the end of his writing.--Indicator. In the "Miscellanies," published by the Spalding Society of Antiquaries there is a poem of high feeling and strong expression against "man's cruelty to man:" Why should mans high aspiring mind The fair, the brave, the vain, the wise, To strew, his quiet hall. Power, may make many earthly gods, The flatter'd great, may clamours raise An arrow, hurtel'd ere so high From e'en a giant's sinewy strength, In time's untraced eternity, Goes, but a pigmy length Nay, whirring from the tortured string, Just so, mans boasted strength, and power, Laid lower, than the meanest flower Whose pride, oertopt the oak. And be, who like a blighting blast, Tyrants in vain, their powers secure, And awe slaves' murmurs, with a frown; But unawed death, at last is sure, To sap the Babels down A stone thrown upward, to the skye, Will quickly meet, the ground agen: So men-gods, of earths vanity, Shall drop at last, to men; And power, and pomp, their all resign Blood purchased Thrones, and banquet Halls. Fate, waits to sack ambitions shrine As bare, as prison walls, Where, the poor suffering wretch bows down, To laws, a lawless power hath past;— And pride, and power, and King, and Clown, Shall be death's slaves at last. Time, the prime minister of death, There's nought, can bribe his honest will Each wicked scheme for power, all stops, Death levels all things, in his march, June 29. Holiday at the Public Offices, except Excise, St. Peter, the Apostle. St. Hemma, A. D. 1045. St. Peter. From this apostle the Romish church assumes to derive her authority, and appoints this his anniversary, which she splendidly celebrates. The illuminations at Rome on this day would astonish the apostle were he alive. From the account of a recent traveller, they appear to be more brilliant than an Englishman can well imagine; he witnessed them, and describes them in these words : "At Ave Maria we drove to the piazza of St. Peter's. The lighting of the lanternoni, or large paper lanterns, each of which looks like a globe of ethereal fire, had been going on for an hour, and, by the time we arrived there, was nearly completed. As we passed the Ponte San Angelo, the appearance of this magnificent church, glowing in its own brightnessthe millions of lights reflected in the calm waters of the Tiber, and mingling with the last golden glow of evening, so as to make the whole building seem covered with burnished gold, had a most striking and magical effect. "Our progress was slow, being much impeded by the long line of carriages before us; but at length we arrived at the piazza of St. Peter's, and took out station on the right of its farther extremity, so Marvel. as to lose the deformity of the dark, dingy, Vatican palace. The gathering shades of night rendered the illumination every moment more brilliant. The whole of this immense church-its columns, capitals, cornices, and pediments-the beautiful swell of the lofty dome, towering into heaven, the ribs converging into one point at top, surmounted by the lantern of the church, and crowned by the cross,--all were designed in lines of fire; and the vast sweep of the circling colonnades, in every rib, line, mould, cornice, and column, were resplendent in the same beautiful light. "While we were gazing upon it, suddenly a bell chimed. On the cross of fire at the top waved a brilliant light, as if wielded by some celestial hand, and instantly ten thousand globes and stars of vivid fire seemed to roll spontaneously along the building, as if by magic; and self-kindled, it blazed in a moment into one dazzling flood of glory. Fancy berself, in her most sportive mood, could scarcely have conceived so wonderful a spectacle as the instantaneous illumination of this magnificent fabric: the agents by whom it was effected were unseen, and it seemed the work of enchantment. In the first instance, the illuminations had appeared to be complete, and one could not dream that thousands and tens of thousands of lamps were still to be illumined. Their vivid blaze harmonized beautifully with the softer, milder light of the lanternoni; while the brilliant glow of the whole illumination shed a rosy light upon the fountains, whose silver fall, and ever-playing showers, accorded well with the magic of the scene. "Viewed from the Trinità de' Monti, its effect was unspeakably beautiful: it seemed to be an enchanted palace hung in air, and called up by the wand of some invisible spirit. We did not, however, drive to the Trinità de' Monti till after the exhibition of the girandola, or great fire-works from the castle of St. Angelo, which commenced by a tremendous explosion that represented the raging eruption of a volcano. Red sheets of fire seemed to blaze upwards into the glowing heavens, and then to pour down their liquid streams upon the earth. This was followed by an incessant and complicated display of every varied device that imagination could figure-one changing into another, and the beauty of the first effaced by that of the last. Hundreds of immense wheels turned round with a velocity that almost seemed as if demons were whirling them, letting fall thousands of hissing dragons, and scorpions, and fiery snakes, whose long convolutions, darting forward as far as the eye could reach in every direction, at length vanished into air. Fountains and jets of fire threw up their blazing cascades into the skies. The whole vault of heaven shone with the vivid fires, and seemed to receive into itself innumerable stars and suns, which, shooting up into it in brightness almost insufferable, vanished, like earth-born hopes. The reflection in the depth of the calm clear waters of the Tiber, was scarcely less beautiful than the spectacle itself; and the whole ended in a tremendous burst of fire, that, while it lasted, almost seemed to threaten conflagration to the world. "The expense of the illumination of St. Peter's, and of the girandola, when repeated two successive evenings, as they invariably are at the festival of St. Peter, is one thousand crowns; when only exhibited one night they cost seven hundred. Eighty men were employed in the instantaneous illuminations of the lamps, which to us seemed the work of enchantment: they were so posted as to be un seen.' Dr. Forster, in certain remarks on the excitement of the imagination, cites some "Verses by a modern poet, on an appearance beheld in the clouds," which may aptly come after the glowing description of the illumination of St. Peter's: The appearance, instantaneously disclosed, By earthly nature had the effect been wrought CHRONOLOGY 363. The emperor Julian died, aged thirtytwo. He was denominated the apostate, from having professed Christianity before he ascended the throne, and afterwards relapsing to Paganism. He received his death wound in a battle with the Persians. Dr. Watkins in his "Biographical Dictionary" says, that he was virtuous and modest in his manners, and liberal in his disposition, an enemy to luxury, and averse to public amuseinents. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Yellow Rattle. Rhinanthus Galli Dedicated to St. Peter. * Rome in the Nineteenth Century. THE EVERY-DAY BOOK; OR, Everlasting Calendar OF POPULAR AMUSEMENTS, SPORTS, PASTIMES, CEREMONIES, MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND EVENTS, INCIDENT TO FORMING A COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE YEAR, MONTHS, & SEASONS, AND A PERPETUAL KEY TO THE ALMANACK; INCLUDING ACCOUNTS OF THE WEATHER, RULES FOR HEALTH AND CONDUCT, REMARKABLE ANTIQUITIES, TOPOGRAPHY, BIOGRAPHY, NATURAL HISTORY, art, science, PUBLISHED FOR WILLIAM HONE BY HUNT AND CLARKE, TAVISTOCK STREET, COVENT-GARDEN. 1826 Herrick, |