Every-Day Book
vol II date    /    index  


January 8.

St. Lucian—Holiday at the Exchequer.

St. Appollinaris. St. Severinus. St. Pega. St. Vulsin. St. Gudula. St. Nathalan.

St. Lucian

The St. Lucian of the Romish church on this day was from Rome, and preached in Gaul, where he suffered death about 290, according to Butler, who affirms that he is the St. Lucian in the English Protestant calendar. There is reason to suppose, however, that the St. Lucian of the church of England was the saint of that name mentioned yesterday.

St. Gudula.

Is the patroness of Brussels, and is said to have died about 712. She suffered the misfortune of having her candle blown out, and possessed the miraculous power of praying it a-light again, at least, so says Butler; "whence," he affirms, "she is usually represented in pictures with a lantern." He particularizes no other miracle she performed. Surius however relates, that as she was praying in a church without shoes, the priest compassionately put his gloves under her feet; but she threw them away, and they miraculously hung in the air for the space of an hour—whether in compliment to the saint or the priest does not appear.


1821. A newspaper of January 8, mentions an extraordinary feat by Mr. Huddy, the postmaster of Lismore, in the 97th year of his age. He travelled, for a wager, from that town to Fermoy in a Dungarvon oyster-tub, drawn by a pig, a badger, two cats, a goose, and a hedgehog; with a large red nightcap on his head, a pig-driver's whip in one hand, and in the other a common cow's-horn, which he blew to encourage his team, and give notice of this new mode of posting.

Let us turn away for a moment from the credulity and eccentricity of man's feebleness and folly, to the contemplation of "the firstling of the year" from the bosom of our common mother. The Snow-drop is described in the "Flora Domestica" "as the earliest flower of all our wild flowers, and will even show her head above the snow, as if to prove her rivalry in whiteness;" as if

—Flora's breath, by some transforming power,
Had chang'd an icicle into a flower.

Mrs. Barbauld.

One of its greatest charms is its "coming in a wintry season, when few others visit us: we look upon it as a friend in adversity; sure to come when most needed."

Like pendant flakes of vegetating snow,
The early herald of the infant year,
Ere yet the adventurous crocus dares to blow,
Beneath the orchard-boughs, thy buds appear.

While still the cold north-east ungenial lowers,
And scarce the hazel in the leafless copse,
Or sallows, show their downy powder'd flowers,
The grass is spangled with thy silver drops.

Charlotte Smith.