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"The times have been that when the brains were out the man would die;" they were "the times!" Yet, even in those times, except "the Anthrophagi, and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders," men, whose heads grew upon their shoulders, wore them in that situation during their natural lives until by accident a head was taken off, and then infallibly "the man would die." But the extraordinary persons called "saints," were exempt from ordinary fatality could all their sayings be recorded, we might probably find it was as usual for a decapitated saint to ask, “Won't you give me my head?" before he walked to be buried, as for an old citizen to call, Boy, bring me my wig," before he walked to club.

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St. Denys was beheaded with some other martyrs in the neighbourhood of Paris. "They beheaded them," says the reverend father Ribadeneira, "in that mountain which is at present called Mons Martyrum (Montmartre), the mountain of the martyrs, in memory and honour of them; but after they had martyred them, there happened a wonderful miracle. The body of St. Denys rose upon its feet, and took its own head up in its hands, as if he had triumphed and carried in it the crown and token of its victories. The angels of heaven went accompanying the saint, singing hymns choir-wise, with a celestial harmony and concert, and ended with these words, 'gloria tibi, Domine alleluia;' and the saint went with his head in his hands about two miles, till he met with a good woman called Catula, who came out of her house; and the body of St. Denys going to her, it put the head in her hands." Perhaps this is as great a miracle as any he wrought in his life; yet those which he wrought after his death "were innumerable." Ribadeneira adds one in favour of pope Stephen, who "fell sick, and was given over by the doctors in the very monastery of St. Denys, which is near Paris; where he had a revelation, and he saw the princes of the apostles, St. Peter, and St. Paul, and St. Denys, who lovingly touched him and gave him perfect health, and this happened in the year of our Lord, 704, upon the 28th of July; and in gratitude for this favour he gave great privileges to that church of St. Denys, and carried with him to Rome certain relics of his holy body, and built a monastery in his honour."

It appears from an anecdote related by an eminent French physician, that it was believed of St. Denys that he kissed his head while he carried it; and it is equally marvellous that a man was so mad as not to believe it true. The circumstance is thus related:

"A famous watchmaker of Paris, infatuated for a long time with the chimera of perpetual motion, became violently insane, from the overwhelming teror which the storms of the revolution excited. The derangement of his reason was marked with a singular trait. He was persuaded that he had lost his head on the scaffold, and that it was put in a heap with those of many other victims: but that the judges, by a rather too late retraction of their cruel decree, had ordered the heads to be resumed, and to be rejoined to their respective bodies; and he conceived that, by a curious kind of mistake, he had the head of one of his companions placed on his shoulders. He was admitted into the Bicétre, where he was continually complaining of his misfortune, and lamenting the fine teeth and wholesome breath which he had exchanged for those of very different qualities. In a little time, the hopes of discovering the perpetual motion returned; and he was rather encouraged than restrained in his endeavours to effect his object. When he conceived that he had accomplished it, and was in an ecstasy of joy, the sudden confusion of a failure removed his inclination even to resume the subject. He was still, however, possessed with the idea that his head was not his own: but from this notion he was diverted by a repartee made to him, when he happened to be defending the possibility of the miracle of St. Denys, who, it is said, was in the habit of walking with his head between his hands, and in that position continually kissing it. 'What a fool you are to believe such a story,'¦ it was replied, with a burst of laughter; How could St. Denys kiss his head? was it with his heels?" This unanswerable and unexpected retort struck and confounded the madman so much, that it prevented him from saying any thing farther on the subject; he again betook himself to business, and entirely regained his intellects."*

St. Denys, as the great patron of France,

*Pinel on Insanity.

is highly distinguished. "France," says bishop Patrick, "glories in the relics of this saint; yet Baronius tells us, that Ratisbonne in Germany has long con=tested with them about it, and show his body there; and pope Leo IX. set out a declaration determining that the true body of St. Denys was entire at Ratisbonne, wanting only the little finger of his right hand, yet they of Paris ceased not their pretences to it, so that here are two bodies venerated of the same individual saint; and both of them are mistaken if they of Prague have not been cheated, among whose numerous relics I find the arm of St. Denys, the apostle of Paris, reckoned." The bishop concludes by extracting part of a Latin service, in honour of St. Denys, from the (6 Roman Missal," wherein the prominent miracle before alluded to is celebrated in the following words, thus rendered by the bishop into English:

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AUTUMN.

There is a fearful spirit busy now.

Already have the elements unfurled

Their banners: the great sea-wave is upcurled:
The cloud comes: the fierce winds begin to blow
About, and blindly on their errands go;

And quickly will the pale red leaves be hurled
From their dry boughs, and all the forest world
Stripped of its pride, be like a desert show.
I love that moaning music which I hear

In the bleak gusts of autumn, for the soul
Seems gathering tidings from another sphere,
And, in sublime mysterious sympathy,

Man's bounding spirit ebbs and swells more high,
Accordant to the billow's loftier roll.†

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were obliged to follow through ponds and ditches, 66 over brake and briar." Every person they met was taken up by the arms and bumped, or swung against another. Each publican furnished a gallon of ale and plum-cake, which was consumed in the open air. This was a septennial custom and called gangingday.*

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Holly. Ilex aquifolium. Dedicated to St. Ethelburge.

October 12.

St. Wilfrid, Bp. of York, a. d. 709.
Seasonable Work.

Now come the long evenings with devices for amusing them. In the intervals of recreation there is "work to do." This word "work" is significant of an employment which astonishes men, and seems never to tire the fingers of their industrious helpmates and daughters; except that, with an expression

which we are at a loss to take for either jest or earnest, because it partakes of each, they now and then exclaim, WOmens' work is never done!" The assertion is not exactly the fact, but it is not a great way from it. What " man of woman born" ever considered the quantity of stiches in a shirt without fear that a general mutiny among females might leave him "without a shirt to his back?" Cannot an ingenious spinner devise a seamless shirt, with its gussets, and wristbands, and collar, and selvages as durable as hemming? The immense work in a shirt is concealed, and yet

happily every "better half" prides her

self on thinking that she could never do too much towards making good shirts for her "good man." Is it not in his power to relieve her from some of this labour? Can he not form himself and friends into a" society of hearts and manufactures,"

and get shirts made, as well as washed, by machinery and steam? These inquiries are occasioned by the following

LETTER FROM A LADY.

To the Editor of the Every Day Book.
Sir,

I assure you the Every-Day Book is a great favourite among the ladies; and therefore, I send for your insertion a

* Brand.

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St. Edward, King and Confessor, A. D.

1066. Sts. Faustus, Januarius, and Martialis, A. D. 304. Seven Friar Minors, Martyrs, A. D. 1221. St. Colman, A. D, 1012. St. Gerald, Count of Aurillac, or Orilhac, a. D. 909.

Translation King Edward Confessor

This, in the church of England calendar and almanacs, denotes the day to be a festival to the memory of the removal of his bones or relics, as they are called by the Roman church, from whence the fes

tival is derived.

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In days of yore, when Time was young,'
When birds convers'd as well as sung,
When use of speech was not confin'd
Merely to brutes of human kind,
A forward hare, of swiftness vain,
The genius of the neighb'ring plain,
Would oft deride the drudging crowd:
For geniuses are ever proud.
He'd boast, his flight 'twere vain to follow,
For dog and horse he'd beat them hollow;
Nay, if he put forth all his strength,
Outstrip his brethren half a length.

A tortoise heard his vain oration,
And vented thus his indignation :
"Oh puss! it bodes thee dire disgrace,
When I defy thee to the race.
Come, 'tis a match, nay, no denial,
I'll lay my shell upon the trial."
'Twas done and done, all fair, a bet,
Judges prepar'd, and distance set.

The scamp'ring hare outstript the wind,
The creeping tortoise lagg'd behind,
And scarce had pass'd a single pole,
When puss had almost reach'd the goal.
"Friend tortoise," quoth the jeering hare,
"Your burthen's more than you can bear,
To help your speed it were as well
That I should ease you of your shell :

* Gentleman's Magazine.

October 15

St. Teresa, Virgin, A.D. 1582. St. Tecla, Abbess. St. Hospicius, or Hospis, A.D._580.

Scent of Dogs, and Tobacco.

A contemporary kalendarian* appears to be an early smoker and a keen sportsman. He says, "From having, constantly amused ourselves with our pipe early in the morning, we have discovered and are enabled to point out an almost infalliable method of judging of good scent. When the tobacco smoke seems to hang lazily in the air, scarcely sinking or rising, or moving from the place where it is emitted from the pipe, producing at the same time a strong smell, which lasts some time in the same place after the smoke is apparently dispersed, we may on that day be sure that the scent will lay well. We have seldom known this rule to deceive; but it must be remembered that the [state of the air will sometimes change in the course of the day, and that the scent will drop all of a sudden, and thus throw the hounds all out, and break off the chase abruptly. For as Sommerville says:

* Dr. Forster.

Thus on on the air

Depend the hunter's hopes. When ruddy streaks
At eve forebode a blustering stormy day,

Or lowering clouds blacken the mountain's brow,
When nipping frosts, and the keen biting blasts
Of the dry parching east, menace the trees
With tender blossoms teeming, kindly spare
Thy sleeping pack, in their warm beds of straw
Low sinking at their ease; listless they shrink
Into some dark recess, nor hear thy voice
Thought oft invoked; or haply if thy call
Rouse up the slumbering tribe, with heavy eyes
Glazed, lifeless, dull, downward they drop their tails
Inverted; high on their bent backs erect
Their pointed bristles stare, or 'mong the tufts
Of ranker weeds, each stomach-healing plant
Curious they crop, sick, spiritless, forlorn.
These inauspicious days, on other cares
Employ thy precious hours.

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Then, the aforesaid gentlemen did meet with their hounds and boar-staves in the place aforesaid, and there found a great wild boar; and the hounds did run him very hard, near the chapel and hermitage of Eskdale side, where there was a monk of Whitby, who was an hermit; and the boar being so hard pursued, took in at the chapel door, and there laid him down, and died immediately, and the hermit shut the hounds out of the chapel, and kept himself at his meditation and pray

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. ers; the hounds standing at bay without,

Sir,

Ascension-day, whereon there is a remarkable annual custom in maintenance of a tenure, has passed, but as it originated from a circumstance on the 16th of October, you can introduce it on that day, and it will probably be informing as well as amusing to the majority of readers. The narrative is derived from a tract formerly published at Whitby. I am, &c.

WENTANA CIVIS.

On this day in the fifth year of the reign of king Henry II. after the conquest of England, (1140,) by William, duke of Normandy, the lord of Uglebarnby, then called William de Bruce, the lord of Snaynton, called Ralph de Percy, and a gentleman freeholder called Allotson, did meet to hunt the wild boar, in a certain wood or desert, called Eskdale side; the wood or place did belong to the abbot of the monastry of Whitby in Yorkshire, who was then called Sedman, and abbot of the said place.

the gentlemen in the thick of the wood, put behind their game, in following the cry of the hounds, came to the hermitage and found the hounds round the chapel; then came the gentlemen to the door of the chapel, and called on the hermit, who did open the door, and then they got forth, and within lay the boar dead, for which he gentlemen, in a fury, because their hounds were put out of their game, run at the hermit with their boar staves, whereof he died; then the gentlemen knowing, and perceiving that he was in peril of death, took sanctuary at Scarborough; but at that time, the abbot, being in great favour with the king, did remove them out of the sanctuary, whereby they became in danger of the law, and not privileged, but like to have the severity of the law, which was death. But the hermit being a holy man, and being very sick and at the point of death, sent for the abbot, and desired him to send for the gentlemen, who had wounded him to death; so doing, the gentlemen came, and the hermit being sick, said, "I am sure

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