coming gravity, also named John Smith; and he had enjoyed his pontificate several previous commemorations; his chaplain was James Beethom. The ornaments of the spinners and manufacturers had a neat and even elegant appearance, from the delicate and glossy whiteness of the finely combed wool which they wore. The apprentices and masters' sons, however, formed the most showy part of the procession, their caps being richly adorned with ostrich feathers, flowers, and knots of various coloured yarn, and their stuff garments being of the gayest colours; some of these dresses, we understand, were very costly, from the profusion of their decorations. The shepherd, shepherdess, and swains, were attired in light green. The wool-sorters, from their number and the height of their plumes of feathers, which were, for the most part, of different colours, and formed in the shape of fleur-de-lis, had a dashing appearance. The combmakers carried before them the instruments here so much celebrated, raised on standards, together with golden fleeces, rams' heads with gilded horns, and other emblems. The combers looked both neat and comfortable in their flowing wigs of well-combed wool; and the garb of the dyers was quite professional. Several well-painted flags were displayed, one of which represented on one side the venerable BISHOP in full robes, and on the other a shepherd and shepherdess under a tree. Another had a painting of MEDEA giving up the golden fleece to JASON: a third had a portrait of the KING: and a fourth appeared to belong to some association in the trade. The whole procession was from half a mile to a mile in length. When the procession was ready to move, Richard Fawcett, Esq. who was on horseback at the head of the spinners, pronounced, uncovered, and with great animation, the following lines, which it had long been customary to repeat on these occasions, and which, if they have not much poetical elegance, have the merit of expressing true sentiments in simple language: Hail to the day, whose kind auspicious rays Deign'd first to smile on famous bishop Blase! To the great author of our combing trade, This day's devoted, and due honour's paid; To him whose fame thro' Britain's isle resounds, To him whose goodness to the poor abounds; bread. Long shall his name in British annals shine, Each loyal subject give a loud HUZZA. HUZZA! Indian Bay Laurus Indica. Dedicated to St. Margaret of England. February 5. Holiday at the Exchequer. St. Agatha. The Martyrs of Japan. The February 9. Martyrs of China. St. Avitus, Arch- St. Apollonia, A. D. 249. St. Nicepho 525. bishop, A. D. Adelaide, A. D. 1015. Bishop of Arbela. St. Agatha. St. Alice, or St. Abraamius, This saint, who is in the calendar of the church of England, was a Sicilian martyr about the year 251. Butler relates, that before her death she was tortured, and being refused physicians, St. Peter himself came from heaven, healed her wounds, and filled her prison with light. He also as gravely states, that several times when Catana was in danger from the eruptions of mount Etna, her veil carried in procession averted the volcanic matter from the city. rus, A. D. 260. St, Theliau, Bishop, A. D. 580. St. Ansbert, Abp. of Rouen, A. D. 695. St. Attracta or Tarahata of Ireland. St. Herard or Eberhard. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Polyanthus. Primula polyantha. Dedicated to St. Catherine de Ricci. February 14. VALENTINE'S DAY. St. Valentine. St. Maro, A. D. 433. young persons, little is known, except that he was a priest of Rome, and martyred there about 270. It was a custom with the ancient Roman youth to draw the names of girls in honour of their goddess Februata-Juno on the 15th of February, in exchange for which certain Roman catholic pastors substituted the names of saints in billets gentius, 5th Cent. St. Conran, Bishop given the day before, namely, on the 14th of February. of Orkney. St. Valentine. Where can the postman be, I say? Two hundred thousand letters beyond he usual daily average, annually pass through the twopenny post-office in London on St. Valentine's Day. "Two hundred thousand twopences," said an old gentleman as he read this in a March newspaper, are four hundred thousand pence," and he was going to cast up the amount-"Why, papa," said his daughter, "that's just the number of young folks there must be in love with each other 46 "Ah, my has no business there: all Valentinewriters are not in love, nor are all lovers Valentine-writers; and remember, my dear girl, that as smiles on the face sometimes conceal cruel dispositions, so there are some who write Valentines, and trifle with hearts for the mere pleasure of inflicting pain." "I will show you what I mean," said the old gentleman, and taking a paper from a drawer, he held up this exemplification : Just then an unmarried gentleman, "of a certain age," entered the room. On becoming acquainted with the topic, he drew from his pocket a small packet, and said, with a merry smile, "Here was my Valentine." It contained a rib of some small animal completely enveloped with white satin ribbon, ornamented by a true lover's knot at each end, and another in the middle. Father and daughter both had a laugh at the "old bachelor," and he, laughing with them, put into the young lady's hand the poetical address that accompanied his rib: Go contemplate this lovely sign! Its guiltless lord possest? But now the Muse withdraws her aid; Enough to make thee wise: No more of pensive hours complain, N. 8. A Friend. "Well now, this is capital !" exclaimed the laughing lass. "After such a Valer. tine, you must take the hint, my dear sit. it's really a shame that so good-natured a man should remain a bachelor. I recollect, that when I could only just run about, you used to be so kind to me; besides, how you dandled and played with me! and since then, how you have read to me and instructed me till I grew up! Such a man is the very man to be married: you are every way domestic, and it's settled; you must get married."-" Well, then, will you have me?" he inquired, with a cheerful laugh. "I have you? No! Why, you are too old; but not too old to find a wife: there are many ladies whom we know, of your age, wholly disengaged; but you don't pay them any particular attention." Her father interposed; and the gentleman she addressed playfully said, "It is a little hard, indeed, that I should have these fine compliments and severe reproaches at the same time: however," taking her by the hand, " you will understand, that it is possible I may have paid particular attention to a lady at an age when the affections are warmer; 1 did; and I reconciled myself to rejection by courting my books and the pleasures of solitude Hast thou been ever waking From slumbers soft and light, Of bliss that died away! So from my soul has vanish'd And Truth her pow'r displays. The origin of so pleasant a day, the first pleasant day in the year, whether its season be regarded, or the mode of its celebration, requires some little inves tigation; nor must some of its past and present usages be unrecorded here. St. Valentine's Morning. Hark! through the sacred silence of the night Loud chanticleer doth sound his clarion shrill, Hailing with song the first pale gleam of light Which floats the dark brow of yon eastern hill, Bright star of morn, oh! leave not yet the wave Ere these my rustic hands a garland twine, Attend we upon ELIA. Hark, how Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings; singing Cupids are thy choristers, and thy precentors; and instead of the crosier, the mystical arrow is borne before thee. "In other woids, this is the day on which those charming little missives, ycleped Valentines, cross and intercross each other at every street and turning. The weary and all for-spent twopenny postman sinks beneath a load of delicate embarrassments, not his own. It is scarcely credible to what an extent this ephemeral courtship is carried on in this loving town, to the great enrichment of porters, and detriment of knockers and bell-wires. In these little visual interpretations, no emblem is so common as ihe heart,-that little three-cornered exporent of all our hopes and fears,-the bestuck and bleeding heart; it is twisted and tortured into more allegories and affectations than an opera-hat. What authority we have in history or mythology for placing the head-quarters and metropolis of god Cupid in this anatomical seat rather than in any other, is not very clear; out we have got it, and it will serve as well as any other thing. Else we might easily imagine, upon some other system which might have prevailed for any thing which our pathology knows to the contrary, a lover addressing his mistress, in perfect simplicity of feeling, Madam, my liver and fortune are entirely at your disposal or putting a delicate question, Amanda, have you a midriff to bestow? But custom has settled these things, and awarded the seat of sentiment to the aforesaid triangle, while its less fortunate neighbours wait at animal and anatomical distance. "Not many sounds in life, and I include all urban and all rural sounds, exceed in interest a knock at the door. It gives a very echo to the throne where Hope is seated.' But its issues seldom answer to this oracle within. It is so seldom that just the person we want to see comes. But of all the clamorous visitations, the welcomest in expectation is the sound that ushers in, or seems to usher in, a Valentine. As the raven himself was hoarse that announced the fatal entrance of Duncan, so the knock of the postman on this day is light, airy, confident, and befitting one that bringeth good tidings.' It is less mechanical than on other days; you will say, 'That is not the post, I am sure.' Visions of Love, of Cupids, of Hymens, and all those delightful, eternal common-places, which having been, will always be;' which no schoolboy nor schoolman can write away; having their irreversible throne in the fancy and affections; what are your transports, when the happy maiden, opening with careful finger, careful not to break the emblematic seal, bursts upon the sight of some well-designed allegory, some type, some youthful fancy, not without verses Lovers all, A madrigal, or some such device, not over abundant in sense-young Love disclaims it,—and not quite silly-something between wind and water, a chorus where the sheep might almost join the shepherd, as they did, or as I apprehend they did, in Arcadia. "All Valentines are not foolish, and I shall not easily forget thine, my kind friend (if I may have leave to call you |