wonders against the Austrians, could not stand this proposal, especially as it was accompanied by a most hideous expansion of the jaws and mouth. Without uttering a word, the veteran turned pale, and suddenly ran out of the tent; nor did he think himself safe till he arrived at his quarters.'

EARLY RISING IN WINTER.

Lord Chatham, writing to his nephew, January 12, 1754, says: - Vitanda est improba Syren, Desidia, I desire may be affixed to the curtains of your bedchamber. If you do not rise early, you can never make any progress worth mentioning. If you do not set apart your hours of reading; if you suffer yourself or any one else to break in upon them, your days will slip through your hands unprofitably and frivolously, unpraised by all you wish to please, and really unenjoyed by yourself.'

It must, nevertheless, be owned that to rise early in cold weather, and in the gloomy dusk of a January morning, requires no small exertion of virtuous resolution, and is by no means the least of life's trials. Leigh Hunt has described the trying character of the crisis in his Indicator:

66

On opening my eyes, the first thing that meets them is my own breath rolling forth, as if in the open air, like smoke out of a cottagechimney. Think of this symptom. Then I turn my eyes sideways and see the window all frozen over. Think of that. Then the servant comes in. "It is very cold this morning, is it not ?" "Very cold, sir."- Very cold indeed, isn't it ?" Very cold indeed, sir."-" More than usually so, isn't it, even for this weather?" (Here the servant's wit and good nature are put to a considerable test, and the inquirer lies on thorns for the answer.) Why, sir,. .. I think it is." (Good creature! There is not a better or more truth-telling servant going.) "I must rise, however. Get me some warm water."-Here comes a fine interval between the departure of the servant and the arrival of the hot water; during which, of course, it is of "no use" to get up. The hot water comes. 66 Is it quite hot ?" "Yes, sir."-"Perhaps too hot for shaving: I must wait a little ?"" No, sir; it will just do." (There is an over-nice propriety sometimes, an officious zeal of virtue, a little troublesome.) "Oh-the shirt you must air my clean shirt:-linen gets very damp this weather."-"Yes, sir." Here another delicious five minutes. A knock at the door. "Oh, the shirt-very well. My stockings -I think the stockings had better be aired too.' -"Very well, sir."-Here another interval. At length everything is ready, except myself. I now cannot help thinking a good deal-who can ?— upon the unnecessary and villanous custom of shaving; it is a thing so unmanly (here I nestle closer) -so effeminate, (here I recoil from an unlucky step into the colder part of the bed.) No wonder, that the queen of France took part with the rebels against that degenerate king, her husband, who first affronted her smooth visage with a face like her own. The Emperor Julian never showed the luxuriancy of his genius to better advantage than in reviving the flowing

beard.

RUNNING FOOTMEN.

Look at Cardinal Bembo's picture-at Michael Angelo's-at Titian's-at Shakspeare's at Fletcher's-at Spenser's at Chaucer's—at Alfred's-at Plato's. I could name a great man for every tick of my watch. Look at the Turks, a grave and otiose people-Think of Haroun Aĺ Raschid and Bed-ridden Hassan - Think of Wortley Montague, the worthy son of his mother, a man above the prejudice of his time— Look at the Persian gentlemen, whom one is ashamed of meeting about the suburbs, their dress and appearance are so much finer than our own-Lastly, think of the razor itself - how totally opposed to every sensation of bed-how cold, how edgy, how hard! how utterly different from anything like the warm and circling amplitude which

Sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

Add to this, benumbed fingers, which may help you to cut yourself, a quivering body, a frozen towel, and an ewer full of ice; and he that says there is nothing to oppose in all this, only shews, at any rate, that he has no merit in opposing it.'

Running Footmen.

Down to the time of our grandfathers, while there was less conveniency in the world than now, there was much more state. The nobility lived in a very dignified way, and amongst the particulars of their grandeur was the custom of keeping running footmen. All great people deemed it a necessary part of their travelling equipage, that one or more men should run in front of the carriage, not for any useful purpose, unless it might be in some instances to assist in lifting the carriage out of ruts, or helping it through rivers, but principally and professedly as a mark of the consequence of the traveller. Roads being generally bad, coach travelling was not rapid in those days; seldom above five miles an hour. The strain required to keep up with his master's coach was accordingly not very severe on one of these officials; at least, it was not so till towards the end of the eighteenth century, when, as a consequence of the acceleration of travelling, the custom began to be given up.

Nevertheless, the running footman required to be a healthy and agile man, and both in his dress and his diet a regard was had to the long and comparatively rapid journeys which he had to perform. A light black cap, a jockey coat, white linen trousers, or a mere linen shirt coming to the knees, with a pole six or seven feet long, constituted his outfit." On the top of the pole was a hollow ball, in which he kept a hard-boiled egg, or a little white wine, to serve as a refreshment in his journey; and this ball-topped pole seems to be the original of the long silver-headed cane which is still borne by footmen at the backs of the carriages of the nobility. A clever runner in his best days would undertake to do as much as seven miles an hour, when necessary, and go three-score miles a day; but, of course, it was

the middle, a staff about two feet long, carved and pointed with a silver head, and something like bells or metal drops hung round it, that jingled as he ran. Behind him, one on each side of the road, dressed and accoutred in the same style, came his two sons, handsome, tall young fellows of from twenty to twenty-five years of age; and so the king passed on.'

In our country, the running footman was occasionally employed upon simple errands when unusual dispatch was required. In the neighbourhood of various great houses in Scotland, the country people still tell stories illustrative of the singular speed which these men attained. For example: the Earl of Home, residing at Hume Castle in Berwickshire, had occasion to send his footman to Edinburgh one evening on important business. Descending to the hall in the morning, he found the man asleep on a bench, and, thinking he had neglected his duty, prepared to chastise him, but found, to his surprise, that the man had been to Edinburgh (thirty-five miles) and back, with his business sped, since the past evening. As another instance: the Duke of Lauderdale, in the reign of Charles II., being to give a large dinner-party at his castle of Thirlstane, near Lauder, it was discovered, at the laying of the cloth, that some additional plate would be required from the Duke's other seat of Lethington, near Haddington, fully fifteen miles distant across the Lammermuir hills. The running footman instantly darted off, and was back with the required articles in time for dinner! The great boast of the running footman was that, on a long journey, he could beat a horse. A traditional anecdote is related of one of these fleet messengers (rather half-witted), who was sent from Glasgow to Edinburgh for two doctors to come to see his sick master. He was interrupted on the road with an inquiry how his master was now. He's no dead yet," was the reply; "but he'll soon be, for I'm fast on the way for twa Edinburgh doctors to come and visit him."'*

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Langham, an Irishman, who served Henry Lord Berkeley as running footman in Elizabeth's time, on one occasion, this noble's wife being sick, carried a letter from Callowdon to old Dr Fryer, a physician dwelling in Little Britain in London, and returned with a glass bottle in his hand, compounded by the doctor, for the recovery of her health, a journey of 148 miles performed by him in less than forty-two hours, notwithstanding his stay of one night at the physician's and apothecary's houses, which no one horse could have so well and safely performed; for which the Lady shall after give him a new suit of clothes.'-Berkeley Manuscripts, 4to, 1821, p. 204.

The memory of this singular custom is kept alive in the ordinary name for a man-servanta footman. In Charles Street, Berkeley Square, London, there is a particular memorial of it in the sign of a public-house, called The Running Footman, much used by the servants of the neighbouring gentry. Here is represented a tall, agile man in gay attire, and with a stick having a metal ball at top; he is engaged in running.

*Notes and Queries, 2nd ser., i. 121.

ST VERONICA

Underneath is inscribed, 'I am the only Running Footman.' Of this sign a transcript is presented on the preceding page.

JANUARY 13.

NEW-YEAR'S DAY, O. S.

St Kentigern (otherwise St Mungo), of Glasgow, 601; St Veronica of Milan, 1497.

The 13th of January is held as St Hilary's day by the Church of England. On this day, accordingly, begins the Hilary Term at Cambridge, though on the 14th at Oxford; concluding respectively on the Friday and Saturday next before Palm Sunday.

ST VERONICA.

St Veronica was originally a poor girl working in the fields near Milan. The pious instructions of her parents fell upon a heart naturally susceptible in a high degree of religious impressions, and she soon became an aspirant for conventual life. Entering the nunnery of St Martha in Milan, she in time became its superioress; in which position her conduct was most exemplary. Some years after her death, which took place in 1497, Pope Leo X. allowed her to be honoured in her convent in the same manner as if she had been beatified in the usual form.

Veronica appears as one whose mind had been wholly subdued to a religious life. She was evangelical perfection according to the ideas of her Church and her age. Even under extreme and lingering sickness, she persisted in taking her share of the duties of her convent, submitting to the greatest drudgeries, and desiring to live solely on bread and water. Her silence was a sign of her recollection and continual prayer; in which her gift of abundant and almost continual tears was most wonderful. She nourished them by constant meditation on her own miseries, on the love of God, the joys of heaven, and the sacred passion of Christ. She always spoke of her own sinful life, as she called it, though it was most innocent, with the most profound compunction. She was favoured by God with many extraordinary visits and comforts.'-Butler.

The name Veronica conducts the mind back to a very curious, and very ancient, though obscure legend of the Romish Church. It is stated that the Saviour, at his passion, had his face wiped with a handkerchief by a devout female attendant, and that the cloth became miraculously impressed with the image of his countenance. It became VERA ICONICA, or a true portrait of those blessed features. The handkerchief, being sent to Abgarus, king of Odessa, passed through a series of adventures, but ultimately settled at Rome, where it has been kept for many centuries in St Peter's Church, under the highest veneration. There seems even to be a votive mass, 'de Sancta Veronica seu vultu Domini,' the idea being thus personified, after a manner peculiar to the ancient Church. From the term Vera Iconica has come the name Veronica, the image being thus, as it were, personified in the character of a

that the legendary portrait of Christ can be traced with a respectable amount of evidence, much farther back than most persons are aware of. In the early days of the Christian Church at Rome, before it received the protection of the empire, the worshippers, rendered by their hopes of resurrection anxious to avoid burning the bodies of their friends, yet living amongst a people who burnt the dead and considered any other mode of disposing of them as a nuisance, were driven

to the necessity of making subterranean excavations for purposes of sepulture, generally in secluded grounds belonging to rich individuals. Hence the famous Catacombs of Rome, dark passages in the rock, sometimes three above each other, having tiers of recesses for bodies along their sides, and all wonderfully well preserved. In these recesses, not unfrequently, the remains of bodies exist; in many, there are tablets telling who was the deceased; in some, there are recesses

sented as that peculiar oval one, with parted hair, with which we are so familiar; and the fact becomes only the more remarkable from the contrast it presents to other faces, as those of St Peter or St Paul, which occur in the same pictures, and all of which have their own characteristic forms and expressions. Now, Tertullian, who wrote about the year 160, speaks of these portraits on sacramental vessels as a practice of the first Christians, as if it were, even in his time, a thing of the past. And thus the probability of their being found very soon after the time of Christ, and when the tradition of his personal appearance was still fresh, is, in Mr Heaphy's opinion, established.

We are enabled here to give a specimen of these curious illustrations of early Christianity, being one on which Mr Heaphy makes the following remarks: An instance of what may be termed the transition of the type, being apparently executed at a time when some information respecting the more obvious traits in the true likeness had reached Rome, and the artist felt no longer at liberty to adopt the mere conventional type of a Roman youth, but aimed at giving such distinctive features to the portrait as he was able from the partial information which had reached him. We see in this instance that our Saviour,

who is represented as giving the crown of life to St Peter and St Paul, is delineated with the hair divided in the middle (distinctly contrary to the fashion of that day) and a beard, being so far an approximation to the true type. One thing to be specially noticed is, that the portraits of the two apostles were at that time already depicted under an easily recognised type of character, as will be seen by comparing this picture with two others which will appear hereafter, in all of which the short, curled, bald head and thick-set features of St Peter are at once discernible, and afford direct evidence of its being an exact portrait likeness, [while] the representation of St Paul is scarcely less characteristic.'

ST KENTIGERN.

Out of the obscurity which envelops the history of the northern part of our island in the fifth and sixth centuries, when all of it that was not provincial Roman was occupied by Keltic tribes under various denominations, there loom before us three holy figures, engaged in planting Christianity. The first of these was Ninian, who built a church of stone at Whithorn, on the promontory of Wigton; another was Serf, who some time after had a cell at Culross, on the north