and daggers, with an incense pot before them, censing his holiness, who was arrayed in a splendid scarlet gown, lined through with ermine, and richly daubed with gold and silver lace; on his head a triple crown of gold, and a glorious collar of gold and precious stones, St. Peter's keys, a number of beads, agnus deis, and other catholic trumpery. At his back, his holiness's privy councillor, (the degraded seraphim, anglice, the devil,) frequently caressing, hugging, and whispering him, and ofttimes instructing him aloud, 6 to destroy his majesty, to forge a protestant plot, and to fire the city again;' to which purpose he held an infernal torch in his hand.

"The whole procession was attended with 150 flambeaux and lights, by order; but so many more came in voluntarily that there was some thousands.

"Never were the balconies, windows, and houses more numerously lined, or the streets closer thronged with multitudes of people, all expressing their abnorrence of popery, with continual shouts and exclamations, so that it is modestly computed that, in the whole progress, there could not be fewer than 200,000 spectators.

"Thus, with a slow and solemn state they proceeded to Temple-bar; where, with innumerable swarms, the houses seemed to be converted into heaps of men, and women, and children; for whose diversion there were provided great variety of excellent fireworks.

"Temple-bar being, since its rebuilding, adorned with four stately statues, viz. those of queen Elizabeth and king James on the inward, or eastern side, fronting the city, and those of king Charles I. and king Charles II. on the outside, facing towards Westminster; and the statue of queen Elizabeth, in regard to the day, having on a crown of gilded laurel, and in her hand a golden shield, with this motto inscribed,-"The Protestant Religion and Magna Charta.' and flambeauxs placed before it; the pope being brought up near thereunto, the following song (alluding to the posture of those statues) was sung in parts, between one representing the English cardinal, (Howard,) and others acting the people. Cardinal.

"From York to London town we came,
To talk of popish ire,

To reconcile you all to Rome,
And prevent Smithfield fire

People.

"Cease, cease, thou Norfolk cardinal,

See yonder stands queen Bess,
Who sav'd our souls from popish thrall,

O! queen Bess, queen Bess, queen Bess.
"Your popish plot and Smithfield threat
We do not fear at all;
For lo! beneath queen Bess's feet
You fall, you fall, you fall!

" 'Tis true, our king's on t'other side,
Looking tow'rds Whitehall,
But could we bring him round about,
He'd counterplot you all.

"Then down with James and set up Charles On good queen Bess's side,

That all true commons lords, and earls,
May wish him a fruitful bride.

"Now God preserve great Charles our king And eke all honest men ;

And traitors all to justice bring,

Amen, amen, amen.

"Then having entertained the thronging spectators for some time with the ingenious fireworks, a vast bonfire being prepared just over against the Inner Temple Gate, his holiness, after some compliments and reluctances, was decently toppled from all his grandeur into the impartial flames; the crafty devil leaving his infallibilityship in the lurch, and laughing as heartily at his deserved ignominious end as subtle jesuits do at the ruin of bigotted lay-catholics whom themselves have drawn in; or as credulous Coleman's abettors did, when, with pretences of a reprieve at the last gasp, they made him vomit up his soul with a lie, and sealed up his dangerous chops with a flatter. This justice was attended with a prodigious shout, that might be heard far beyond Somerset-house, (where the queen resided,) and it was believed the echo, by continual reverberations, before it ceased, reached Scotland, [the duke was then there,] France, and even Rome itself, damping them withal with a dreadful astonishment."

These particulars, from a tract in lord Somers's collection, are related in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for 1740; and the writer adds, that "the place of prompter-general, Mr. North insinuates, was filled by lord Shaftesbury."

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Tree Stramony. Datura arborea. Dedicated to St. Gregory.

The "Mirror of the Months," a pleasing volume published in the autumn of 1825, and devoted to the service of the year, points to the appearance of nature at this time :-"The last storm of autumn, or the first of winter, (call it which you will) bus strewed the bosom of the all-receiving earth with the few leaves that were still clinging, though dead, to the already sapless branches; and now all stand bare once more, spreading out their innumerabie ramifications against the cold grey sky, as if sketched there for study by the pencil of your only sucRessful drawing-mistress-nature.

"Of all the numerous changes that are perpetually taking place in the general appearance of rural scenery during the year, there is none so striking as this which is attendant on the falling of the leaves; and there is none in which the unpleasing effects so greatly predominate over the pleasing ones. To say truth, a grove denuded of its late gorgeous attire, and instead of bowing majestically before the winds, standing erect and motionless while they are blowing through it, is a sorry sight,' and one upon which we will not dwell. But even this sad consequence of the coming on of winter (sad in most of its mere visible effects,) is not entirely without redeeming accompaniments; for in most cases it lays open to our view objects that we are glad to see again, if it be but in virtue of their association with past years; and in many cases it opens vistas into sweet distances that we had almost forgotten, and brings into view objects that we may have been sighing for the sight of all the summer long. Suppose, for example, that the summer view from the windows of a favourite sleeping-room is bounded by a screen of shrubs, shelving upwards from the turf, and terminating in a little copse of limes, beeches, and sycamores; the prettiest boundary that can greet the morning glance when the shutters are opened, and the sun slants gaily in at them, as if glad to be again admitted. How pleasant is it, when (as now) the winds of winter have stripped 'he branches

that thus bound our view in, to spy be yond them, as if through network, the sky-pointing spire of the distant village church, rising from behind the old yewtree that darkens its portal; and the trim parsonage beside it, its ivy-grown windows glittering perhaps in the early sun! Oh, none but those who will see the good that is in every thing, know how very few evils there are without some of it attendant on them, and yet how much of good there is unmixed with any evil.

But though the least pleasant sight connected with the coming on of winter in this month is to see the leaves that have so gladdened the groves all the summer long, falling every where around us, withered and dead,-that sight is accompanied by another which is too often overlooked. Though most of the leaves fall in winter, and the stems and branches which they beautified stand bare, many of them remain all the year round, and look brighter and fresher now than they did in spring, in virtue of the contrasts that are every where about them. Indeed the cultivation of evergreens has become so general with us of late years, that the home enclosures about our country dwellings, from the proudest down to even the poorest, are seldom to be seen without a plentiful supply, which we now, in this month, first begin to observe, and acknowledge the value of. It must be a poor plot of garden-ground indeed that does not now boast its clumps of winter-blowing laurestinus; its trim holly bushes, bright with their scarlet berries; or its tall spruce firs, shooting up their pyramid of feathery branches beside the low ivy-grown porch. Of this last-named profuse ornamentor of whatever is permitted to afford it support, (the ivy) we now too every where perceive the beautifully picturesque effects: though there is one effect of it also perceived about this time, which I cannot persuade myself to be reconciled to: I mean where the trunk of a tall tree is bound about with ivy almost to its top, which during the summer has scarcely been distinguished as a separate growth, but which now, when the other leaves are fallen, and the outspread branches stand bare, offers to the eye, not a contrast, but a contradiction. But let us not dwell on any thing in disfavour of ivy, which is one of the prime boasts of the village scenery of our island, and which even at this season of the year offers pic

shot him to death with arrows. The place where Edmund was interred had the name of St. Edmund's Bury, but is now generally called Bury. Canute the Great built a stately church over his grave, and greatly enlarged the town

FLORAL DIRECTORY.

Red Stapelia. Stapelia rufa.
Dedicated to St. Edmund, King.

November 21.

The Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. St. Columban, Abbot, A. D. 615. St. Gelasius, Pope, a. D. 496.

Ghost of an Arm Chair.

A lady assured the editor of the "Perennial Calendar," of the truth of the following story. She had ordered ar armed chair which stood in her room to be sent to a sick friend, and thought it had been sent conformably to her orders.

maliformis.

Dedicated to St. Elizabeth.

This English king and saint is in the church of England calendar and almanacs. St. Edmund was king of East Anglia, which took its name from a people called the Angles, who landed on the eastern coast of Britain, under twelve chiefs, the survivor of whom, Uffa, assumed the title of king of the East Angles. This kingdom contained Norfolk and Suffolk, with part of Cambridgeshire. The chief towns were Norwich, Thetford, Ely, and Cambridge. In 867, the Danes 'anded in East Anglia, and after ravaging different parts of the island, and continuing some time in Northumberland, returned into East Anglia, committing, in their route, the most horrid barbarities. Edmund the king opposed them; bu his army was defeated at Thetford, and the king being taken prisoner, fell a miserable victim to their barbarity, for they tied him to a tree, as a butt, or mark, and then

ing by the light of the night-lamp at the furniture in her room, she cast her eyes on the place where the said chair used to stand, and saw it, as she thought, in its place. She at first expressed herself to her husband as being vexed that the chair had not been sent; but, as he protested that it was actually gone, she got out of bed to convince herself, and distinctly saw the chair, even on a nearer approach to it. What now became very remarkable was, that the spotted chair-cover which was over it, assumed an unusual clearness, and the pattern assumed the appearance of being studded with bright stars. She got close to it, and putting her hand out to touch it, found her fingers go through the spectrum unresisted. Astonished, she now viewed it as an illusion, and presently saw it vanish, by becoming considers this apparition as affording a fainter till it disappeared. Dr. Forster clue to one mode by which spectra are introduced, namely, by local association. The lady had anticipated seeing the chair in its place, from its always being associated with the rest of the furniture; and this anticipation of an image of perception was the basis of a corresponding image of spectral illusion.

This saint is in the church of England calendar ana the almanacs.

Clement was a follower and coadjutor of the apostle Paul, who, writing to the Philippians, (iv. 3.) requires them to be mindful of the flock and their teachers, and distinguishes Clement by name"help those women which laboured with me in the gospel, and with Clement also, and with other my fellow-labourers." The Romish writers contend for the direct papal succession from the apostles, and call Clement a pope; but in the uninterrupted succession they claim for the pontiffs of their hierarchy, they fail in establishing as indisputable whether he was the first, second, or third pope; the name itself was not devised until centuries afterwards. Some of them say he was martyred, others contend that he died a natural death. The advocates for his martyrdom assign him an anchor as a symbol of distinction, because they allege that he was thrown into the sea with an anchor about his neck. It is further alleged that two of his disciples desirous of recovering his remains, assembled a multitude and prayed for the discovery, and, as usual, there was a miracle. "Immediately the sea retired for the space of three miles, or a league, in such sort that they could go into it for all that space as upon the dry land; and they found in it a chapel, or little church, made by the hands of angels; and within the church a chest of stone, in which was the body of St. Clement, and by it the anchor with which he had been cast into the sea. This miracle did not happen only that year in which the holy pope tried, but it happened also every year, and the sea retired itself three miles, as was

said, leaving the way dry for seven days. namely, the day of his martyrdom, and the other six following days." Though "travellers see strange sights," no modern tourist has related this annual miracle, which is still performed by the sea in the neighbourhood of Rome, on the days aforesaid, as duly and truly as the annual liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius at Naples-" or, if not, why not?"

Protestants, in London, are reminded of St. Clement's apocryphal death by his anchor being the weathercock that "turns and turns," to every wind, on the steeple in the Strand. It denotes the efflux of time of the parish church of St. Clement Danes as a minute-hand upon the clock; it denotes the limits of the parish as a mark upon the boundary stones; it graces the beadles' staves; and on the breasts of the charity children is, in the eyes of the parishioners, "a badge of honour."

dated July 22, 1540, that children were It appears from a state proclamation, accustomed to be decked, and go about on St. Clement's day in procession. From an ancient custom of going about on the night of this festival to beg drink to make merry with, a pot was formerly marked against the 23d of November upon the old clog-almanacs.†

St. Clement is the patron of blacksmiths. His quality in this respect is not noticed by Brand, or other observers of our ancient customs, nor do they mention any observances by that trade in commemBut the following oration of his festival communications will show the estimation wherein he is held among the "cunning workmen in iron."

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Chancery-lane, Nov. 19, 1825.

Sir, As secretary of the "Benevolent Institution of Smiths," I take the liberty of jogging your memory. I hope you will not forget our St. Clement, (Nov. 23,) in your interesting Every-Day Book. When I was a child, an old man went about in the trade, reciting the following ode or smithery, which, I believe, is very old If you think it worthy a place in you. work, it will much oblige me and our trade; for it is now quite forgot, with many good customs of hospitality of the

Ribadeneira.

+ Plot's Staffordshire.