of style, which I complain of. Though Grecian edifices may be tolerated amidst modern houses, as assimilating with their architecture, they are out of all character in the country. Lambeth parish for instance has built four churches. The Grecian style prevails in the whole, and though the buildings are creditable to their architects, yet, in the case of Brixton, which is certainly a very chaste and pretty doric church, and does honour to the genius of Mr. Porden, and at Norwood, where in every point of view at the least distance, and particularly the latter place, the steeples are seen in connection with trees and country scenery, the pepper-box towers remind the spectator more of pigeon-houses than church steeples; and he, to whom the sight of a villagespire brings almost enthusiastic feelings, and an earnest desire of arriving at it, would scarce bestow any notice on these modern and unappropriate objects. Let the town and the city retain the portico and the dome, the country claims the gothic spire, the mullioned window, and the buttressed wall; but things are now reversed and changed from their natural order. The slender pointed spire is now made to terminate a splendid street of modern houses, where it appears as awkward as the cupola does amidst fields and hedges. Mr. Nash is to build a gothic church at Haggerstone, and let us hope he will atone for his fault at the west, by bestowing a more orthodox steeple upon the eastern erection. Mr. Soane is the architect of Walworth church, which is the first specimen of his ecclesiastical structures; at differs from the generality of new churches, in having a range of arches rising from the parts of the galleries, dividing the structure longitudinally into three aisles, in the style of the older churches. It formed one of the groupes of churches exhibited by this gentleman at Somerset-house in the present year. One recommendation it has, and that by no means a trifling one; the voice of the clergyman may be distinctly heard in every part of the building without the least echo or indistinctness, a fault very common in large buildings. It would occupy too much space to notice, even briefly, every new church. In regard to steeples, that of the new thurch building at Hoxton (architect Edwards) is one of the prettiest designs of the modern school of cupolas; and the pire of St. Paul's, Shadwell, o which Mr. Walters, before spoken of, was the architect, forins a brilliant exception; it is closely formed on the model of Bow steeple, but there are some variations so pleasing, that the design may justly be said to be the architect's own propertyhe has followed sir Christopher Wren without copying him. The spire at Poplar is a fine object, but decidedly inferior to the last, inasmuch as it diminishes more abruptly. The steeple attached to St. John's church, in the Waterloo-road, is a very finely proportioned erection, and shows exceedingly well from the Strand and the Temple-gardens; those who have seen an engraving of this church with the tower originally designed for it, will see what has been gained by the exchange. There are more new churches still to be built; let us hope then, that the architects who may be selected to erect them, having seen the faults and defects of their predecessors, will produce something better; or, at least, that their designs will differ from the generality of those already built, if only for the sake of variety. In conclusion, the writer has only to add, that much more might be said both on old and new churches; it is a subject which has more than one employed his pen; he feels, however, that he has already occupied a larger space than he is entitled to do, if he has trespassed on your readers patience he has to beg their pardon; his excuse is, that the subject is a favourite one. E. I. C. July, 1825. A HOT LETTER For Captain Lion, Brighton. I anticipated a sojournment in your "neat little country cottage" during your absence, with more pleasure than I expressed, when you made me the offer of it. I imagined how much more comfortable I should be there, than in my own out-of-town single-room. I was mistaken. I have been comfortable nowhere. The malignity of an evil star is against me; I mean the dog-star. You recollect the heat I fell into during our Hornsey walk I have been hot ever since, "hissing hot, think of that Master Brook;" I would that thou wert really a brook I would cleave thy bosom, and, unless thou wert cool to me, I would not acknowledge thee for a true friend. After returning from the coach wherein you and your lady-cousin departed, I "larded the lean earth" to my own house in town. That evening I got into a hackney coach to enjoy your "cool" residence; but it was hot; and there was no "cool of the evening;" I went to bed hot, and slept hot all night, and got up hot to a hot tea-breakfast, looking all the while on the hot print opposite, Hogarth's 66 Evening," with the fat hot citizen's wife sweltering between her husband and the New River, the hot little dog looking wistfully into the reachless warm water, her crying hot boy on her husband's stick, the scolding hot sister, and all the other heats of that ever-to-be-warmly-admired engraving. The coldest picture in the room, to my heated eye, was the fruit-piece worked in worsted-worsted in the dog-days! How I got through that hot day I cannot remember. At night, when, according to Addison," evening shades prevail," the heat prevailed; there were no "cool" shades, and I got no rest; and therefore I got up restless, and walked out and saw the morning star, which I suppose was the dog-star, for I sought coolness and found it not; but the sun arose, and methought there was no atmosphere but burning beams; and the metropolis poured out its heated thousands towards the New River, at Newington; and it was filled with men, and boys, and dogs; and all looked as "comfortable" as live eels in a stew pan. I am too hot to proceed. What a summer! The very pumps refuse" spring water; and, I suppose, we shall have no more till next spring. My heart melts within me, and I am not so inhuman as to request the servant to broil with this letter to the post-office, but I have ordered her to give it to the newsman, and ask him to slip it into the first letter-box he passes, and to tell him, if he forgets, it is of no consequence, and in no hurry; he may take it on to Ludgate-hili, and Mr. Hone, if he please, may print it in his Every-Day Book. I dare say he is too hot to write, and this may help to fill up; so that vou'll get it, at any rate. I don't care if all the world reads it, for the hot weather is no secret. As Mr. Freeling cannot say that printing a letter is privately convey Duncomb, for many years the principal vender of Dunstable larks, resided at the village of Haughton-Regis, near Dunstable. He was an eccentric character, and, according to Dunno's "Originals," (himself an "original") he was "remarkable for his humorous and droll method of rhyming." The following .ines are shrewd and pleasant : Duncomb's Answer in Hay-time relating to the Weather. Well, Duncomb, how will be the weather? Dunstable Larks. The larks which are caught at Dunstable are unequalled for their size and richness of flavour. Their superiority is said to be owing in a great measure to the chalky soil. On their first arrival they are very lean and weak, but they recover in a short time, and are braced and fattened by picking considerable quantities of the finest particles of chalk with their food. They are usually taken in great quantities, with trammelling nets, on evenings and mornings, from Michaelmas to February. When dressed and served up at some of the inns in the town," in great perfection, by a peculiar and secret method in the process of cook ing them," they are admired as a luxury by travellers during the time they are in season; and by an ingenious contrivance in their package, they are sent ready dressed to all parts of England July 15. St. Henry II., Emperor, A. D. 1024. St. Plechelm, A. D. 714. St. Swithin, Bp. A. D. 862. Swithin is still retained on this day in our almanacs, and at some public offices is a holiday. St. Swithin. He was of noble parentage, and also called Swithun, or in the Saxon language Swithum. He received the tonsure in the church at Winchester, and became a monk in the old monastery there, of which, after being ordained priest, he was made provost or dean. He studied grammar, philosophy, and theology. For his learning and virtue, Egbert, king of England, appointed him his priest, in which character he subscribed a charter to the abbey of Croyland, in 833. Egbert also committed to him the education of his son Ethelwolf, who on succeeding to the throne procured Swithin to be chosen bishop of Winchester in 852. Tithes were established in England through St. Swithin, who prevailed on Ethelwolf to enact a law, by which he gave the tenth of the land to the church, on condition that the king should have a prayer said for his soul every Wednesday in all the churches for ever. Ethelwolf solemnized the grant by laying the charter on the altar of St. Peter at Rome, in a pilgrimage he made to that city, and by procuring the pope to confirm it. St. Swithin died on the 2d of July, 862, in the reign of king Ethelbert, and he was buried, according to his own order, in the churchyard. Alban Butler, from whom these particulars are related, affirms the translation of his relics into the church a hundred years afterwards, and refers to the monkish historians for the relation of "such a number of miraculous cures of all kinds wrought by them, as was never known in any other place." His relics were afterwards removed into the cathedral of Winchester, on its being built under William the Conqueror. It was dedicated to the Holy Trinity, under the patronage of St. Peter, afterwards to St. Swithin, in 980, and was called St. Swithin's until Henry VIII. ordered it to be called by the name of the Holy Trinity. Among the notable miracles alleged to have been worked by St. Swithin is this, that after he had built the bridge at Winchester, a woman came over it with her lap full of eggs, which a rude fellow broke, but the woman showed the eggs to the saint, who was passing at the time, and he lifted up his hand and blessed the eggs," and they were made hole and sounde." To this may be added another story; that when his body was translated, or removed, two rings of iron, fastened on his grave-stone, came out as soon as they were touched, and left no mark of their place in the stone; but when the stone was taken up, and touched by the rings, they of themselves fastened to it again.* St. Swithin's Day. "If it rains on St. Swithin's day, there will be rain the next forty days afterwards." The occasion of this old and well-known saying is obscure. In Mr. Douce's interleaved copy of Brand's "Popular Antiquities," there is a printed statement" seemingly cut out of a newspaper" cited, in the last edition of Mr. Brand's work, thus :-" In the year 865, St. Swithin, bishop of Winchester, to which rank he was raised by king Ethelwolfe, the dane, dying, was canonized by the then pope. He was singular for his desire to be buried in the open churchyard, and not in the chancel of the minster, as was usual with other bishops, which request was complied with; but the monks, on his being canonized, taking it into their heads that it was disgraceful for the saint to lie in the open churchyard, resolved to remove his body into the choir, which was to have been done with solemn procession on the 15th of July. It rained, however, so violently on that day, and for forty days succeeding, as had hardly ever been known, which made them set aside their design as heretical and blasphemous: and, instead, they erected a chapel over his grave, at which many miracles are said to have been wrought.' Also in "Poor Robin's Almanac" for 1697, the saying, together with one of the miracles before related, is noticed in these lines :— "In this month is St. Swithin's day: On which, if that it rain, they say • Golden Legend. Full forty days after it will, A woman having broke her eggs And to make hay while sun doth shine, The satirical Churchill also mentions the superstitious notions concerning rain on this day : : rare! good, good, good, good, good! I thank my stars, I thank my stars for it. “ Mari.—(aside)—Said I not true? 'tis Sordido, the farmer, A boar, and brother, to that swine was here. "Sord. Excellent, excellent, excellent! as I could wish, as I could wish!-Ha, ha, ha! I will not sow my grounds this year. Let me see what harvest shall we have? June, July, August? "Maci.-(aside)-What is't, a prognostication raps him so? "Sord.-(reading)—The xx, xx1, xxii days, Rain and Wind; O good, good! the xxiii and xxiv Rain and some Wind: the xxv, Rain, good still! xxvi, xxvii, xxviii, wind and some rain; would it had been rain and some wind; well, 'tis good (when it can be no better ;) xxix inclining to rain: inclining to rain? that's not so good now: xxx and xxxi wind and no Iain no rain? 'Slid stay; this is worse and worse: Swithin's? turn back, look, Saint Swithwhat says he of Saint the xv day; variable weather, for the most in's: no rain?-O, here, Saint Swithin's, part rain, good; for the most part rain : why, it should rain forty days after, now, more or less, it was a rule held, afore I was able to hold a plough, and yet here are two days no rain; ha! it makes me muse." Gay, whilst he admonishes against falling into the vulgar superstition, reminds his readers of necessary precautions in a wet season, which make us smile, who forbear from hats to loop and unloop, and do not wear wigs : Now, if on Swithin's feast the welkin lours, Or double bottomed frieze; their guarded feet Shun every dashing pool, or idly stop, To seek the kind protection of a shop. But business suminons; now with hasty scui So fierce Electo's snaky tresses fell, When Orpheus charmed the rigorous powers of bell; Dr. Forster, in his "Perennial Calendar," cites from Mr. Howard's work on the climate of London the following"Examination of the popular Adage of 'Forty Days' Rain after St. Swithin' how far it may be founded in fact.” The opinion of the people on subjects connected with natural history is commonly founded in some degree on fact or experience; though in this case vague and inconsistent conclusions are too frequer.tly drawn from real premises. The notion commonly entertained on this subject, if put strictly to the test of experience at any one station in this part of the island, will be found fallacious. To do justice to popular observation, I may now state, that in a majority of our summers, a showery period, which, with some latitude as to time and local circumstances, may be admitted to constitute daily rain for forty days, does come on about the time indicated by this tradition: not that any long space before is often so dry as to mark distinctly its commence ment. The tradition, it see.us, took origin from the following circumstances. Swithin or Swithum, bishop of Winchester, who died in 868, desired that he might be buried in the open churchyard, and not in the chancel of the minster, as was usual with other bishops, and his request was complied with; but the monks, on his being canonized, considering it disgraceful for the saint to lie in a public cemetery, resolved to remove his body into the choir, which was to have been done with solemn procession, on the 15th of July: it rained, however, so violently for forty days together at this season, that the design was abandoned. Now, without entering into the case of the bishop, who was probably a man of sense, and wished to set the example of a more wholesome, as well as a more hurable, mode of resigning the perishable clay to the destructive elements, may observe, that the fact of the hinderance of the ceremony by the cause related is sufficiently authenticated by tradition; Ι and the tradition is so far valuable, as it proves that the summers in this southern part of our island were subject a thousand years ago to occasional heavy rains, in the same way as at present. Let us see how, in point of fact, the matter now stands. In 1807, it rained with us on the day in question, and a dry time followed. In 1808, it again rained on this day, though but a few drops: there was much lightning in the west at night, yet it was nearly dry to the close of the lunar period, at the new moon, on the 22d of this month, the whole period having yielded only a quarter of an inch of rain; but the next moon was very wet, and there fell 5.10 inches of rain. In 1818 and 1819, it was dry on the 15th, and a very dry time in each case followed. The remainder of the summers occurring betwixt 1807 and 1819, appear to come under the general proposition already advanced but it must be observed, that in 1816, the wettest year of the series, the solstitial abundance of rain belongs to the lunar period, ending, with the moon's approach to the third quarter, on the 16th of the seventh month; in which period there fell 5.13 inches, while the ensuing period, which falls wholly within the forty days, though it had rain on twenty-five out of thirty days, gave only 2:41 inches. I have paid no regard to the change effected in the relative position of this so much noted day by the reformation of the calendar, because common observation is now directed to the day as we find it in the almanac; nor would this piece of accuracy, without greater certainty as to a definite commencement of this showery period in former times, have helped us to more conclusive reasoning on the subject. Solstitial and Equinoctial Rains.—Our year, then, in respect of quantities of rain, exhibits a dry and a wet moiety. The latter again divides itself into two periods distinctly marked. The first period is that which connects itself with the popular opinion we have been discussing |