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patronage of Addison, kept a coffee-house on the south side of Russell-street, about two doors from Covent-garden, where the wits of that day used to assemble. Addison studied all the morning, dined at a tavern, and afterwards went to Button's. "The Lion's Head" was inscribed with two lines from Martial :

Cervantur magnis isti Cervicibus ungues :
Non nisi delectâ pascitur ille fera.
This has been translated in the Gentle
nan's Magazine thus:-

Bring here nice morceaus; be it understood
The lion vindicates his choicest food.

Button's "Lion's Head" was afterwards preserved at the Shakspeare Tavern, where it was sold by auction on the 8th of November, 1804, to Mr. Richardson of the Grand Hotel, the indefatigable collector and possessor of an immense mass of materials for the history of St. Paul, Covent-garden, the parish wherein he resides. The late duke of Norfolk was his ineffectual competitor at the sale: the noble peer suffered the spirited commoner to gain the prize for 177. 10s. Subsequently the duke frequently dined at Mr. Richardson's, whom he courted in vain to relinquish the gem. Mr. R. had the head with its inscription handsomely engraved for his "great seal," from which he has caused delicate impressions to be sented in oak-boxes, to a few whom it has pleased him so to gratify; and among them the editor of the Every-Day Book, who thus acknowledges the acceptable civility.

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In the London Magazine the "Lion's Head," fronts each number, greeting its correspondents, and others who expect announcements, with "short affable roars," and inviting" communications" from all "who may have committed a particularly good action, or a particularly bad oneor said or written any thing very clever, or very stupid, during the month." By too literal a construction of this comprehensive invitation, some got into the "head," who, not having reach enough for the "body" of the magazine, were happy to get out with a slight scratch, and others remain without daring to say their souls are their own"-to the rereformation of themselves, and as examples to others contemplating like offences. The "Lion" of the "London" is of delicate scent, and shows high masterhood in the great forest of literature.

St. Anne.

Her name, which in Hebrew signifies gracious, is in the church of England this day, calendar and almanacs on which is kept as a great holiday by the Romish church.

The history of St. Anne is an old fiction. It pretends that she and her husband Joachim were Jews of substance, and lived twenty years without issue, when the high priest, on Joachim making his offerings in the temple, at the feast of the dedication, asked him why he, who had no children, presumed to appear among those who had; adding, that his offerings were not acceptable to God, who had judged him unworthy to have children, nor, until he had, would his offerings be accepted. Joachim retired, and bewailed his reproach among his shepherds in the pastures without returning home, lest his neighbours also should reproach him. The story relates that, in this state, an angel appeared to him and consoled him, by assuring him that he should have a daughter, who should be called Mary, and for a sign he declared that Joachim on arriving at the Golden Gate of Jerusalem should there meet his wife Anne, who being very much troubled that he had not returned sooner, should rejoice to see him. Afterwards the angel appeared to Anne, who was equally disconsolate, and comforted her by a promise to the same effect, and assured her by a like token, namely, that at the Golden Gate she should meet her husband for whose safety she had been so much concerned. Accordingly both of them left the places where they were, and met each other at the Golden Gate, and rejoiced at each others' vision, and returned thanks, and lived in cheerful expectation that the promise would be fulfilled.

The meeting between St. Anne and St. Joachim at the Golden Gate was a favourite subject among catholic painters, From and there are many prints of it. one of them in the "Salisbury Missal," (1534 fo. xix) the annexed engraving is copied. The curious reader will find notices of others in a volume on the "Ancient Mysteries," by the editor of the EveryDay Book. The wood engraving in the "Missal" is improperly placed there to illustrate the meeting between the Virgin Mary and Elizabeth.

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Meeting of St. Anne and St. Joachim

AT THE GOLDEN GATE.

It is further pretended, that the result of the angel's communication to Joachim and Anne was the miraculous birth of the Virgin Mary, and that she was afterwards dedicated by Anne to the service of the temple, where she remained till the time of her espousal by Joseph.

In the Romish breviary of Sarum there are forms of prayer to St Anne, which show how extraordinarily highly these stories placed her. One of them is thus translated by bishop Patrick.*

"O vessel of celestial grace,

Blest mother to the virgins' veen, By thee we beg, in the first place, Remission of all former si 1.

Patrick's Devot, of Rom Church.

"Great mother, always keep in mind The power thou hast, by thy sweet daughter, let's find And, by thy wonted prayer, God's grace procur'd to us hereafter." Another, after high commendations to St. Anne, concludes thus :"Therefore, still asking, we remain,

And thy unwearied suitors are, That, what thou canst, thou wouldst obtain,

And give us heaven by thy prayer. Do thou appease the daughter, thou didst bear,

She her own son, and thou thy grandson dear."

The nuns of St. Anne at Rome show a rude silver ring as the wedding-ring of

Anne and Joachim; both ring and story are ingenious fabrications. There are of tourse plenty of her relics and miracles from the same sources. They are further noticed in the work on the " Mysteries" referred to before.

SUMMER HOLIDAYS.

A young, and not unknown corresponaent of the Every-Day Book, has had a holiday---his first holiday since he came to London, and settled down into an every-day occupation of every hour of his time. He seems until now not to have known that the environs of London abound in natural as well as artificial beauties. What he has seen will be productive of this advantage; it will induce residents in London, who never saw Dulwich, to pay it a visit, and see all that he saw. Messrs. Colnaghi and Son, of Pallmall East, Mr. Clay of Ludgate-hill, or any other respectable printseller, will supply an applicant with a ticket of admission for a party, to see the noble gallery of pictures there. These tickets are gratuitous, and a summer holiday may be delightfully spent by viewing the paintings, and walking in the pleasant places adjacent the pictures will be agreeable topics for conversation during the stroll.

MY HOLIDAY!

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. My dear Sir,

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The kind and benevolent feelings which you are so wont to discover, and the sparkling good-humour and sympathy which characterize your Every-Day Book, encourage me to describe to you My holiday!" I approach you with familiarity, being well known as your constant reader. You also know me to be a provincial cockney-a transplant. Oh! why then do you so often paint nature in her enchanting loveliness? What cruelty! You know my destiny is foreign to my

desires: I cannot now seek the shade of

a retired grove, carelessly throw myself on the bank of a "babbling brook," there muse and angle, as I was wont to do, and, as my old friend Izaak Walton bade

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Think of that! I have experienced what Leigh Hunt desires every christian to experience that there is a green and gay world, as well as a brick and mortar one. Months previous was the spot fixed upon which was to receive my choice, happy spirit. Dulwich was the place It was an easy distance from town; moreover, it was a "rustic" spot; moreover, it had a picture-gallery; in a word, it was just the sort of place for me. The happy morning dawned. I could say with Horace, with the like feelings of enraptured delight

"Insanire juvat. Sparge rosas."

Such was the disposition of my mind.

We met (for I was accompanied) at that general rendezvous for carts, stages, waggons, and sociables, the Elephant and Castle. There were the honest, valiant, laughter-loving J-; the pensive, kindlyhearted G-; and the sanguine, romantic, speculative M-. A conveyance was soon sought. It was a square, covered vehicle, set on two wheels, drawn by one horse, which was a noble creature, creditable to its humane master, who has my best wishes, as I presume he will never have cause to answer under Mr. Martin's Act. Thus equipaged and curtained in,we merrily trotted by the Montpelier Gardens, and soon overtook the "Fox-under-theHill." To this "Fox" I was an entire stranger, having never hunted in that part of the country before. The beautiful hill which brought us to the heights of Camberwell being gained, we sharply of Dulwich and its adjoining domains in turned to the left, which gave us the view the distance. Oh, ecstacy of thought! Gentle hills, dark valleys, far-spreading groves, luxuriant corn-fields, magnificent prospects, then sparkled before me. The rich carpet of nature decked with Flora's choicest flowers, and wafting perfumes of odoriferous herbs floating on the breezes, with joy. What kind-heartedness then expanded and made my heart replete beamed in our countenances! We talked, and joked, and prattled; and so fast did our transports impulse, that to expect an answer to one of my eager inquiries as to "who lives here or there?" was out of the question. Our hearts were redolent of joy. It was our holiday!

By the side of the neat, grassy, picturesque burying-ground we alighted, in front of Dulwich-college. Now for the picture-gallery. Some demur took place

as to the safety of the "ticket." After a few moments' intense anxiety, it appeared. How important was that square bit of card-it was the key to our hopes“Admit Mr. R— and friends to view the Bourgeois Gallery." We entered by the gate which conducts into the clean, neat, and well-paved courtyard contiguous to the gallery. In the lodge, which is situate at the end of this paved footpath, you see a comely, urbane personage. With a polite bend of the head, and a gentle smile of good-nature on his countenance on the production of the " ticket," he bids you welcome. The small folding doors on your right hand are then opened, and this magnificent gallery is before you. This collection is extremely rich in the works of the old masters, particularly Poussin, Teniers, Vandyke, Claude, Rubens, Cuype, Murillo, Velasquez, Annibal Caracci, Vandervelt, Vanderwerf, and Vanhuysem. Here I luxuriated. With my catalogue in hand, and the eye steadily fixed upon the subject, I gazed, and although neither connoisseur nor student, felt that calmness, devotion, and serenity of soul, which the admiration of either the works of a poet, or the "sweet harnony" of sound, or form, alone work upon my heart. I love nature, and here she was imitated in her simplest and truest colourings. The gallery, or rather the five elegant rooms, are well designed, and the pictures admirably arranged. We entered by a door about midway in the gallery, on the left, and were particularly pleased with the mausoleum. The design is clever and ingenious, and highly creditable to the talents of Mr. Soane. Here lie sir Francis Bourgeois, and Mr. and Mrs Desenfans, surrounded by these exquisite pictures. The masterly painting of the Death of Cardinal Beaufort is observed nearly over this entrance-door. But, time hastens and after noticing yonder picture which hangs at the farther extremity of the gallery, I will retire. It is the Martyr dom of St. Sebastian, by Annibal Caracei. Upon this sublime painting I could meditate away an age. It is full of power, of real feeling and poetry. Mark that countenance the uplifted eye" with holy fervour bright !"-the resignation, calmness, and holy serenity, which speak of truth and magnanimity, contrasted with the physical sufferings and agonies of a horrid death. I was lost-my mind was slumbering on this ocean of sublimity!

The lover of rural sights will return

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from Dulwich-college by the retired footpath that strikes off to the right by the cage" and "stocks" opposite the burying-ground. On ascending the verdant hill which leads to Camberwell Grove, the rising objects that gradually open to the view are most beautifully picturesque and enchanting. We reached the summit of the Five Fields :—

"Heav'ns! what a goodly prospect spread & round

Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,

And glittering towns, and gilded streams."

eye glances from villa to grove, turret,
This is a fairy region. The ravished
pleasure-ground, hill, dale; and "figured

streams in waves of silver" roll. Here
Droog Castle, Peckham, Walworth, Green-
are seen Norwood, Shooter's-hill, Seven
wich, Deptford, and bounding the horizon,
the vast gloom of Epping Forest. What
the eye, and the heart!
a holiday! What a feast for the mind,
A few paces
from us we suddenly discerned a humble,
aged, wintry object, sitting as if in mock-
ery of the golden sunbeam which played
thropy of the good and gentle Elia inspired
across his furrowed cheek. The philan-
our hearts on viewing this "dim speck,"
charity, and it was charitable thus to love.
this monument of days gone by. Love is
The good old patriarch asked not, but
received alms with humility and grati-
tude. His poverty was honourable: his
character was noble and elevated in low-

liness. He gracelessly doffed his many-
coloured cap in thanks (for hat he had
none), and the snowy locks floating on
the breeze rendered him an object as inte-
have made all sad hearts gay, we should
resting as he was venerable. Could we
but have realized the essayings of our
souls. Our imaginings were of gladness
and of joy. It was our holiday!

Now, my holiday is past! Hope, like a glimmering star, appears to me through the dark waves of time, and is ominous of future days like these. We are now "at home," homely in use as occupation. I am hugging the desk, and calculating. I can now only request others who have leisure and opportunity to take a "holiday," and make it a " holiday" similar to this. Health will be improved, the heart delighted, and the mind strengthened. The grovelling sensualist, who sees pleasure only in confusion, never can know pleasures comparable with these. There is

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THE WEATHER PROGNOSTICATOR

Through all the Lunations of each Year for ever.

O. F. S

This table and the accompanying remarks are the result of many years' actual observation; the whole being constructed on a due consideration of the attraction c the sun and moon in their several positions respecting the earth; and will, by simple inspection, show the observer what kind of weather will most probably follow the entrance of the moon into any of her quarters, and that so near the truth as to be seldom or never found to fail.

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1. The nearer the time of the moon's change, first quarter, full, and last quarter, is to midnight, the fairer will the weather be during the seven days following.

2. The space for this calculation occupies from ten at night till two next morning. 3. The nearer to mid-day or noon these phases of the moon happen, the more foul or wet the weather may be expected during the next seven days.

4. The space for this calculation occupies from ten in the forenoon to two in the afternoon. These observations refer principally to summer, though they affect spring and autumn nearly in the same ratio.

5. The moon's change-first quarter-full-and last quarter, happening during six of the afternoon hours, i. e. from four to ten, may be followed by fair weather: but this is mostly dependent on the wind, as it is noted in the table.

6. Though the weather, from a variety of irregular causes, is more uncertain in the latter part of autumn, the whole of winter, and the beginning of spring; yet, in the main, the above observations will apply to those periods also.

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