nay; two of his relics were at Antwerp; a church dedicated to him at Rome was famous for his sackcloth, and part of his palm coat; the other part of it was exhibited at Vienna, and the rest of his body was so multiplied about, that there were limb-bones enough for the remains of half a dozen uncanonized persons. The Romish church has not made saints of late years.

BLESSING OF BEASTS.

On St. Anthony's day, the beasts at Rome are blessed, and sprinkled with holy water. Dr. Forster, in his Perennial Calendar," remarks, that "the early Catholics regarded no beasts, birds, or fish, as hateful." He says, that "St. Anthony was particularly solicitous about animals, to which a whimsical picture by Salvator Rosa represents him as preaching ;" and he suggests, that "from his practices, perhaps, arose the custom of blessings passed on animals still practised at Rome; he regarded all God's creatures as worthy of protection"-except heretics, the doctor might have added; unless, indeed, which seems to have been the case, Anthony regarded them as "creatures" of the devil, between whom, and this saint, we have seen that the Rev. Alban Butler takes especial care we should not be ignorant of the miraculous conflicts just related.

Lady Morgan says, that the annual benediction of the beasts at Rome, in a church there dedicated to St. Anthony, lasts for some days: " for not only every Roman from the pope to the peasant, who has a horse, a mule, or an ass, sends his cattle to be blessed at St. Anthony's shrine, but all the English go with their job horses and favourite dogs; and for the small offering of a couple of paoli, get them sprinkled, sanctified, and placed under the protection of this saint. Coach after coach draws up, strings of mules mix with carts and barouches, horses kick, mules are restive, and dogs snarl, while the officiating priest comes forward from his little chapel, dips a brush into a vase of holy water, sprinkles and prays over the beasts, pockets the fee, and retires."

Dr. Conyers Middleton says, that when he was at Rome, he had his own horses blest for eighteen-pence, as well to satisfy his curiosity, as to humour his coachman, who was persuaded that some mischance would befall them in the year, if they had not the benefit of the benediction.

PREACHING TO FISHES.

the

"The church of St. Anthony at Rome is painted in curious old frescos, with the temptations of the saint. In one picture he is drawn blessing the devil, disguised in a cowl; probably at that time

When the devil was sick,

and the devil a monk would be;' "the next picture shows, that "When the devil was well,

the devil a monk was he;' "for St. Anthony, having laid down in his coffin to meditate the more securely, a parcel of malicious little imps are peeping, with all sorts of whimsical and terrific faces, over its edges, and parodying Hogarth's enraged musician. One abominable wretch blows a post-horn close to the saint's ear, and seems as much delighted with his own music as a boy with a Jew's-harp, or a solo-player with his first ad libitum."

St. Anthony's sermon to the fish is given in some of our angling books. If this saint was not the preacher to the fish, but St. Anthony of Padua, the latter has lost the credit of his miraculous exhortation, from the stupendous reputation of his namesake and predecessor. Not to risk the displeasure of him of Padua, by the possibility of mistake, without an attempt to propitiate him if it be a mistake, let it be recorded here, that St. Anthony of Padua's protection of a Portuguese regiment, which enlisted him into its ranks seven hundred years after his death, procured him the honour of being promoted to the rank of captain, by the king of Portugal, as will appear by reference to his military certificate set forth at large in "Ancient Mysteries described."

ST. ANTHONY'S FIRE.

St. Anthony's fire is an inflammatory disease which, in the eleventh century, raged violently in various parts. According to the legend, the intercession of St. Anthony was prayed for, when it miraculously ceased; and therefore, from that time, the complaint has been called St. Anthony's fire.

ST. ANTHONY'S PIG.

Bishop Patrick, from the Salisbury missal and other Romish service-books, cites the supplications to St. Anthony for relief from this disease. Catholic writers affirm it to have been cured by the saint's relics dipped in wine, which proved a present remedy. "Neither," says Patrick, who quotes the Romish writers, "did this benefit by the intercession of St. Anthony accrue only to men, but to cattle also; and from hence we are told the custom arose of picturing this saint with a hog at his feet, because, the same author (Aymerus) says, on this animal God wrought miracles by his servant." Patrick goes on to say, that in honour of St. Anthony's power of curing pigs, "they used in several places to tie a bell about the neck of a pig, and maintain it at the common charge of the parish," from whence came our English proverb of "Tantony pig," or t'Antony, an abridgement of the Anthony pig.

"I remember," says Stow," that the officers charged with the oversight of the markets in this city did divers times take from the market people, pigs starved, or otherwise unwholesome for man's sustenance; these they did slit in the ear. One of the proctors for St. Anthony's (Hospital) tied a bell about the neck, (of one of them,) and let it feed on the dunghills: no man would hurt or take it up; but if any gave to them bread, or other feeding, such they (the pigs) would know, watch for, and daily follow, whining till they had somewhat given them: whereupon was raised a proverb, ' Such an one will follow such an one, and whine as it were (like) an Anthony pig,' If such a pig grew to be fat, and came to good liking, (as oftentimes they did,) then the proctor would take him up to the use of the hospital.

St. Anthony's school in London, row gone to decay, was anciently celebrated for the proficiency of its pupils. Stow relates, that, in his youth, he annually saw, on the eve of St. Bartholomew, the scho

lars of the different grammar-schools assembled in the churchyard of St. Bartholomew, Smithfield, and then St. Anthony's scholars commonly were the best, and carried the prizes; and that when the boys of St. Paul's school met with those of St. Anthony's, "they would call them St. Anthony's pigs, and they again would call the others pigeons of Paul's; because many pigeons were bred in Paul's church, and St. Anthony was always figured with a pig following him."

The seal of St. Anthony's Hospital in London was about the size of a halfcrown; it represented the saint preaching to a numerous congregation, with his pig beneath him. The Rev. Mr. Orton, rector of Raseby in Leicestershire, was supposed to have been its possessor by the late Mr.S. Ayscough, who adds (in the Gent. Mag.) that the hospital of St. Anthony had a grant of all the stray pigs which were not owned. He presumes that, from thence, originated the emblem of the saint's pig. In this he seems to have been mistaken; it clearly did not originate in England : Patrick's solution of it is more probable, and very likely to be correct.

St. Anthony is always represented by the old painters with a pig by his side. He is so accompanied in the wood-cut to his life in the Golden Legend. There are many prints of him, by early masters, in this way. Rubens painted a fine picture of the Death of St. Anthony, with his pig, or rather a large bacon hog, lying under the saint's bed: there is a good engraving from this picture by Clouwet.

In the British Museum there is a MS. with a remarkable anecdote that would form an appendix to St. Anthony's day. The names of the parties are forgotten; but the particulars, recollected from accidental perusal, are these:

A tailor was met out of doors by a person who requested to be measured for a suit of clothes, to be ready on that spot by that day week; and the stranger gave him a piece of cloth to make them with. From certain circumstances, the tailor suspected his new customer to be the devil, and communicated his conjectures to a clergyman, who advised him to exe cute the order, but carefully to save every piece, even the minutest shred he cut from the cloth, and put the whole into a wrapper with the clothes; he further promised the tailor to go with him on the

appointed day to the place where they were delivered. When all was ready and the day arrived, they both went thither, and the person waiting justified the tailor's suspicions; for he abused the tailor because he brought a divine, and immediately vanished in their presence, leaving the clothes and pieces of cloth in the possession of the tailor, who could not sell the devil's cloth to pay himself for the making, for fear of the consequences :

And here ends the history

Of this wonderful mystery; from which may be drawn, by way of moral, that a tailor ought not to take an order from a stranger without a reference.

January 18.

St. Peter's Chair at Rome. St. Paul and Thirty-six Companions in Egypt. St. Prisca. St. Deicolus. St. Ulfrid. The Feast of St. Peter's chair is kept by the Romish church on this day. Lady Morgan says that it is one of the very few functions as they are called (funzioni) celebrated in the cathedral of St. Peter, at Rome. She briefly describes this celebration, and says something respecting St. Peter's chair. "The splendidly dressed troops that line the nave of the cathedral, the variety and richness of vestments which clothe the various church and lay dignitaries, abbots, priests, canons, prelates, cardinals, doctors, dragoons, senators, and grenadiers, which march in procession, complete, as they proceed up the vast space of this wondrous temple, a spectacle nowhere to be equalled within the pale of European civilisation. In the midst of swords and crosiers, of halberds and crucifixes, surrounded by banners, and bending under the glittering tiara of threefold power, appears the aged, feeble, and worn-out pope, borne aloft on men's shoulders, in a chair of crimson and gold, and environed by slaves, (for such they look,) who waft, from plumes of ostrich feathers mounted on ivory wands, a cooling gale, to refresh his exhausted frame, too frail for the weight of such honours. All fall prostrate, as he passes up the church to a small choir and throne, temporarily erected beneath the chair of St. Peter. A solemn service is then performed, hosannas arise, and royal votarists and diplomatic devotees parade the church, with guards of honour and running footmen, while English gentlemen

and ladies mob and scramble, and crowd and bribe, and fight their way to the best place they can obtain.

"At the extremity of the great nave behind the altar, and mounted upon a tribune designed or ornamented by Michael Angelo, stands a sort of throne, composed of precious materials, and supported by four gigantic figures. A glory of seraphim, with groups of angels, sheds a brilliant light upon its splendours. This throne enshrines the real, plain, wormeaten, wooden chair, on which St. Peter, the prince of the apostles, is said to have pontificated; more precious than all the bronze, gold, and gems, with which it is hidden, not only from impious, but from holy eyes, and which once only, in the flight of ages, was profaned by mortal inspection.

"The sacrilegious curiosity of the French broke through all obstacles to their seeing the chair of St. Peter. They actually removed its superb casket, and discovered the relic. Upon its mouldering and dusty surface were traced carvings, which bore the appearance of letters. The chair was quickly brought into a better light, the dust and cobwebs removed, and the inscription (for an inscription it was) faithfully copied. The writing is in Arabic characters, and is the well-known confession of Mahometan faith, There is but one GOD, and MAHOMET is his prophet!' It is supposed that this chair had been, among the spoils of the crusaders, offered to the church at a time when a taste for antiquarian lore, and the deciphering of inscriptions, were not yet in fashion. This story has been since hushed up, the chair replaced, and none but the unhallowed remember the fact, and none but the audacious repeat it. Yet such there are, even at Rome!"

attended by a gentleman of the medical profession. On the evening of her decease, as this gentleman was sitting in company with a friend of his, and in the act of taking a glass of punch, he imagined he saw the lady walking into the room where himself and his friend were sitting, and, having but a few hours before visited her, and found her in a dying state, the shock that his nerves experienced was so great, that the glass which held the punch fell from his hands, and he himself dropped on the floor in a fainting fit. After he had perfectly recovered himself, and made inquiry about the lady, it was ascertained that a few minutes before the time the medical gentleman imagined he had seen her in his friend's apartment, she had departed this life." Perhaps this vision may be illustrated by

others.

A SPECTRE.

The Editor of the Every-Day Book now relates an appearance to himself.

One winter evening, in 1821, he was writing in a back room on an upper floor of the house No. 45, Ludgate-hill, wherein he now resides. He had been so closely engaged in that way and in reading during several preceding days, that he had taken every meal alone, and in that room, nor did he usually go to bed until two or three o'clock in the morning. In the early part of the particular evening alluded to, his attention had become wearied. After a doze he found himself refreshed, and was writing when the chimes of St. Paul's clock sounded a quarter to two long before that dead hour all the family had retired to rest, and the house was silent. A few minutes afterwards he moved round his chair towards the fire-place, and opposite to a large pane of glass which let the light from the room into a closet otherwise dark, the door of which opened upon the landing-place. His eye turning upon the glass pane, he was amazed by the face of a man anxiously watching him from the closet, with knit inquiring brows. The features were prominent and haggard, and, though the look was somewhat ferocious, it indicated intense curiosity towards the motions of the writer, rather than any purpose of immediate mischief to him. The face seemed somewhat to recede with a quick motion when he first saw it, but gazing on it with great earnestness it appeared closer to the glass, looking at him for a moment, and then with more eager anxiety bending its

The

eyes on the writing-table, as though it chiefly desired to be acquainted with the books and papers that lay upon it. writer shut and rubbed his eyes, and again the eyes of the face were intently upon him; watching it, he grasped the candlestick, strode hastily towards the room door, which is about two feet from the pane, observed the face as hastily draw back, unlatched the closet door on the landing, was in an instant within the closet, and there to his astonishment found nothing. It was impossible that the person could have escaped from the closet before his own foot was at its door, yet he examined nearly every room in the house, until reflecting that it was folly to seek for what, he was convinced, had no bodily existence, he returned up stairs and went to bed, pondering on the recollection of the spectre.

ANOTHER SPECTRE.

To the preceding narative the Editor adds an account of a subsequent apparition, which he saw, and for greater ease he writes it in the first person, as follows:

In January, 1824, one, whose relationship commanded my affection, was about to leave England with his family for a distant part of the world. The day or two preceding his departure I passed with him and his wife and children. Our separation was especially painful; my mind was distressed, and I got little sleep. He had sailed from Gravesend about three days, and a letter that he had promised to write from the Downs had not arrived. On the evening of the 29th I retired late, and being quite wearied slept till an unusually late hour the next morning, without a consciousness of having dreamed, or being, as I found myself, alone. With my head on the pillow I opened my eyes to an extraordinary appearance. Against the wall on the opposite side of the room, and level with my sight, the person, respecting whom I had been so anxious, lay a corpse, extended at full length, as if resting on a table. A greyish cloth covered the entire body except the face; the eyes were closed, the countenance was cadaverous, the mouth elongated from the falling of the jaws, and the lips were purpled. I shut my eyes, rubbed them, and gently raising my head continued to gaze on the body, till from weariness of the attitude and exhausted spirits. I dropped on the pillow, and insensibly sunk to sleep, for perhaps a quarter of an hour. On again awaking, the spectre was