St. Fintan, or Munnu, Abbot, in Ireland, A. D. 634. THE SEASON. After a harvest with a good barley crop, a few minutes may be seasonably amused by a pleasant ballad. John Barleycorn. There went three kings into the east, They took a plough and plough'd him down, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath But the cheerful spring came kindly on, John Barleycorn got up again, The sultry suns of summer came, And he grew thick and strong, His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears, That no one should him wrong. The sober autumn enter'd mild, When he grew wan and pale; His colour sicken'd more and more, He faded into age; To show their deadly rage. They've taen a weapon, long and sharp, They laid him down upon his back, They filled up a darksome pit They laid him out upon the floor, They wasted, o'er a scorching flame, For he crush'd him between two stones. St. Philip, Bp. of Heraclea, and others, A. D. 304. Sts. Nunilo and Alodia, A. D. 840. St. Donatus, Bp. of Fiesoli, in Tuscany, A. D. 816. St. Mello or Melanius, 4th Cent. St. Mark, Bp. A. D. 156. St. Mark, Bishop of Jerusalem. The two first bishops of Jerusalem were "the apostle St. James and his brother St. Simeon; thirteen bishops who succeeded them were of the Jewish nation." Upon an edict of the emperor Adrian, prohibiting all Jews from coming to Jerusalem, Mark, being a Gentile Christian, was chosen bishop of the Christians in that city, and was their first Gentile bishop. He is said to have been martyred in 156. In the sweet" days of other years," And anxious doubts for me; Those happy hours are past away, For oh! it gave thee birth; And thy approving voice would be Pluck'd from the muses' bowers; My childish griefs were hush'd to rest, Those lips on mine fond kisses prest, Those arms my feeble form carest, When few a thought bestow'd— This world is but a troubled sea, Yet my frail bark must shipwreck'd be, Or send an orison on high, That begs not blessings from the sky, That heav'n will hear a daughter's sigh, And long thy life defend. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Besides his other perfections he was a queller of earthquakes. Butler instances that "Theophanes, and other Greek historians, tell us that a child was taken up into the air, and heard angels singing the Trisagion, or triple doxology," which is 66 Three-leaved Silphium. Silphium trifo-, " in the preface of the mass;" and that liatum. Dedicated to St. Nunilo October 23. St. Theodoret, a. D. 362. St. Romanus, Abp. of Rouen, A. D. 639. St. John Capistran, A. D. 1456. St. Ignatius, Patriarch of Constantinople, A. D. 878. St. Severin, Abp. of Cologn, A. D. 400. Another St. Severin. St. Severin. The annals of the saints are confused. St. Severin, Abp. of Cologne, is famous in the history of the church: by him, his own diocese, and that of Tongres, 66 was purged from the venom of the Arian heresy, about the year 390." He "knew by revelation the death and glory of St. Martin at the time of his departure,” and died about 400. So says Butler, who immediately begins with "Another St. Severin or Surin, patron of Bourdeaux,” said by some "to have come to Bourdeaux from some part of the east ;" and by others, to have been "the same with the foregoing archbishop of Cologn." It is difficult to make a distinction when we * Butler. therefore St. Proclus "taught the people to sing it:" he says that "it is at least agreed, that on their singing it the earthquakes ceased." Butler represents the style of this father to be "full of lively witty turns, more proper to please and delight than to move the heart." Twenty of his homilies were published at Rome in 1630, whereof "the first, fifth, and sixth are upon the blessed Virgin Mary, whose title of Mother of God," says Butler, "he justly extols." He wrote upon mysterious theology and the church festivals, and was a great disputant. "Our shoes were sow'd with merry notes, This representation of St. Crispin and St. Crispinian at their seat of work, is faithfully copied from an old engraving of the same size by H. David. Every body knows that they were shoemakers, and patrons of that "art, trade, mystery, calling, or occupation," in praise whereof, when properly exercised, too much cannot be said. Now for a word or two concerning these saints. To begin seriously, we will recur to the tenth volume of the "Lives of the Saints," by "the Rev. Alban Butler," where, on the 504th page, we find St. Crispin and St. Crispinian called "two glorious martyrs," St. Hugh's Song. and are told that they came from Rome to preach at Soissons, in France, "towards the middle of the third century, and, in imitation of St. Paul, worked with their hands in the night, making shoes, though they were said to have been nobly born and brothers." They converted many to the Christian faith, till a complaint was lodged against them before Rictius Varus, "the most implacable enemy of the Christian name," who had been appointed governor by the emperor Maximian Herculeus. Butler adds, that "they were victorious over this most inhuman judge, by the patience and constancy with which they bore the most cruel torments, and finished their course by the sword about the year 287." In the sixth century a great church was built to their honour at Soissons, and their shrine was richly ornamented. These are all the circumstances that Butler relates concerning these popular saints: most unaccountably he does not venture a single miracle in behalf of the good name and reputation of either. at On Crispin's-day, in the year 1415, the battle of Agincourt was fought between the English, under king Henry V., and the French, under the constable d'Albret. The French had "a force," says Hume, "which, if prudently conducted, was sufficient to trample down the English in the open field." They had nearly a hundred thousand cavalry. The English force was only six thousand men arms, and twenty-four thousand foot, mostly archers. The constable of France had selected a strong position in the fields in front of the village of Agincourt. Each lord had planted his banner on the spot which he intended to occupy during the battle. The night was cold, dark, and rainy, but numerous fires lighted the horizon; while bursts of laughter and merriment were repeatedly heard from the soldiery, who spent their time in revelling and debate around their banners, discussing the probable events of the next day, and fixing the ransom of the English king and his barons. No one suspected the possibility of defeat, and yet no one could be ignorant that they lay in the vicinity of the field of Cressy. In that fatal field, and in the equally fatal field of Poictiers, the French had been the assailants: the French determined therefore, on the present occasion, to leave that dangerous honour to the English. To the army of Henry, wasted with disease, broken with fatigue, and weakened by the privations of a march through a hostile country in the presence of a superior force,-this was a night of hope and 'fear, of suspense and anxiety. They were men who had staked their lives on the event of the approaching battle, and spent the intervening moments in making their wills, and in attending the exercises of religion. Henry sent his officers to examine the ground by moon-light, arranged the operations of the next day, ordered bands of music to play in succession during the night, and before sun-rise summoned his troops to attend at matins and mass: from thence he led them to the field. His archers, on whom rested his principal hope, he placed in front; beside his bow and arrows, his battle-axe or sword, each bore on his shoulder a long stake sharpened at both extremities, which he was instructed to fix obliquely before him in the ground, and thus oppose a rampart of pikes to the charge of the French cavalry. Many of these archers had stripped themselves naked; the others had bared their arms and breasts that they might exercise their limbs with more ease and execution: their wellearned reputation in former battles, and their savage appearance this day struck terror into their enemies. Henry himself appeared on a grey palfrey in a helmet of polished steel, surmounted by a crown sparkling with jewels, and wearing a surcoat whereon were emblazoned in gold the arms of England and France. Followed by a train of led horses, ornamented with the most gorgeous trappings, he rode from banner to banner cheering and exhorting the men. The French were drawn up in the same order, but with this fearful disparity in point of number, that while the English files were but four, theirs were thirty deep. In their lines were military engines or cannon to cast stones into the midst of the English. The French force relatively to the English was as seven or six to one. When Henry gave the word, " Banners advance!" the men shouted and ran towards the enemy, until they were within twenty paces, and then repeated the shout; this was echoed by a detachment which immediately issuing from its concealment in a meadow assailed the left flank of the French while the archers ran before their stakes,discharged their arrows, and then retired behind their rampart. To break this formidable body, a select battalion of eight hundred men at arms had been appointed by the constable; only seven score of these came into action; they were quickly slain, while the others unable to face the incessant shower of arrows, turned their vizors aside, and lost the government of their horses, which, frantic with pain, plunged back in different directions into the close ranks. The archers seizing the opportunity occasioned by this confusion, slung their bows behind them, and bursting into the mass of the enemy, with their sword and battle axes, killed the constable and principal commanders, and routed the first division of the army. Henry formed the archers again, and charged the second division for two hours in a bloody and doubtful contest, wherein Henry himself was brought on his knees by the mace of one of eighteen French knights who had bound themselves to kill or take him prisoner: he was rescued by his guards, and this second division was ultimately destroyed. The third shared the same fate, and resistance having ceased, Henry traversed the field with his barons, while the heralds examined the arms and numbered the bodies of the slain. Among them were eight thousand knights and esquires, more than a hundred bannerets, seven counts, the three dukes of Brabant, Bar, and Alençon, and the constable and admiral of France. The loss of the conquerors amounted to no more than sixteen hundred men, with the earl of Suffolk and the duke of York, who perished fighting by the king's side, and had an end more honourable than his life. Henry became master of fourteen thousand prisoners, the most distinguished of whom were the dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, and the counts of Eu, Vendome, and Richmond. As many of the slain as it was possible to recognize were buried in the nearest churches, or conveyed to the tombs of their ancestors. The rest, to the number of five thousand eight hundred, were deposited in three long and deep pits dug in the field of battle. This vast cemetery was sur rounded by a strong enclosure of thorns and trees, which pointed out to succeeding generations the spot, where the resolution of a few Englishmen triumphed over the impetuous but ill-directed valour of their numerous enemies. Henry returned to England by way of Dover: the crowd plunged into the waves to meet him: and the conqueror was carried in their arms from his vessel to the beach. The road to London_exhibited one triumphal procession. The lords, commons, & clergy, the mayor, aldermen, and citizens, conducted him into the capital: tapestry, representing the deeds of his ancestors, lined the walls of the houses: pageants were erected in the streets: sweet wines ran in the conduits: bands of children tastefully arrayed sang his praise: and the whole population seemed intoxicated with joy.-Lingard. This memorable achievement on Crispin's-day is immortalized by Shakspeare, in a speech that he assigns to Henry V. before the battle. This day is called-the feast of Crispian : Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars. But they'll remember, with advantages, What feats they did that day: Then shall our names, Warwick, and Talbot, Salisbury, and Glo'ster,- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; And gentlemen in England, now abed, Shall think themselves accursed they were not here; |