Born: Prince
Rupert, military commander, 1619, Prague. Bieck
Died: Robert Nanteuil, celebrated engraver,
1678, Paris; Heneage Pinch, Earl of Nottingham, 1682;
Veit Ludwig von Seckendorf, political and theological
writer, 1692, Halle; Soame Jenyns, religious and
general writer, 1787; Pierre Louis de Pr�ville,
celebrated French comedian, 1799; Johann Gottfried Von
Herder, German theologian and philosopher, 1803; Dr.
Alexander Adam, eminent classic scholar and teacher,
1809, Edinburgh;
Thomas Dunham Whitaker,
antiquarian
writer, 1821, Blackburn; General Lord Lynedoch, 1843,
London: Samuel Rogers, poet, 1855, London.
Feast Day: Saints Rufus and Zozimus,
martyrs, 116. St. Gatian, first bishop of Tours,
confessor, about 300. St. Winebald, abbot, and
confessor, 760.
SUN-DIALS
AND HOUR-GLASSES
When the philanthropist Howard was
on his
death-bed, he said:
'There is a spot near the village
of Dauphiney, where I should like to be buried; suffer no pomp to be used at my
funeral, no monument to mark the spot where I am laid; but put me quietly in the
earth, place a sun-dial over my grave, and let me be forgotten.'
A similar affection was evinced by Sir William Temple, who desired that his heart
might be placed in a silver box and deposited under the sun-dial in his garden,
where he had experienced so much pleasure in contemplating the works of nature.
Sun-dials are of very ancient date, and the honour
of inventing them is claimed for the Phoenicians. The
earliest mention of them occurs in the well-known
incident recorded in Scripture of King Hezekiah, who,
when sick and penitent, is granted, in miraculous
evidence of the Lord's intention to restore him to
health, that the shadow shall go backward ten degrees
on the sun-dial of Ahaz. Homer, too, often supposed to
be a contemporary of Hezekiah, states, in his Odyssey,
that there was a dial in the Island of Syra, upon
which was represented the sun's annual race.
Two centuries ago, sun-dials attracted more
attention than they do at the present time. The great
sculptor, Nicholas Stone, mentions, under date 1619,
the making of a dial at St. James's, the king finding
stone and workmanship only, for the which he had �6,
13s. 4d. 'And in 1622,' he says:
'I made the great diall in the privy-garden, at Whitehall, for the which
I had �46.' 'And in that year, 1622,' he continues, 'I
made a diall for my Lord Brook, in Holbourn, for the
which I had �8, 10s.'
And for Sir John Daves, at
Chelsey, he made a dial and two statues of an old man
and a woman, for which he received �7 a piece.

Sun-dial and
fountain, formerly at
Leadenhall Courner, London
|
In Joseph Moxon's Tutor to Astronomic and
Geographic, or An easie way to know the use of both
the Globes (1659), there are ample directions for the
making of sun-dials of many various kinds, and among
others:
'a solid ball or globe that will shew the hour of
the day without a gnomon.'
The principle followed in this case, was to have a
globe marked round. the equator with two series of
numbers from 1 to 12, and to erect it, rectified for
the latitude, with one of the 12's set to the north,
the other to the south. When the sun shone on this
globe, the number found under the place where the
shadowed and illuminated parts met, was the hour of
the day.
Mr. Moxon has fortunately given us a representation,
here copied, of a dial of this kind perched on the top
of a columnar fountain, which was erected by Mr.
John
Leak, at Leadenhall Corner, in London, in the
mayoralty of Sir John Dethick, knight, and thus has
preserved to us, incidentally, an object much more
important than the dial�namely, a beautiful fountain
which once adorned one of the principal thoroughfares
of the metropolis, furnishing those supplies of
healthful beverage which the charity of our age has
again offered through the medium of our so-called '
drinking fountains.'
However invaluable sun-dials might be as
chronometers, they could only be of use in daylight,
and when the sun was actually shining. Some mode had
to be devised for supplying their place in cloudy
weather, at night, or within doors. One contrivance
employed by the ancients for this end was the
clepsydra, or water-clock, which noted the passing of
time by the escape of water through a vessel, with a
hole at the bottom, into a cistern beneath. Another
method, designed on a similar principle, was that of
the hour-glass, by which the lapse of time was
ascertained through the passing of a small quantity of
sand from the upper to the lower part of the glass.
Hour-glasses are said to have been invented at
Alexandria about the middle of the third century, and
we are informed that persons used to carry them about
as we do watches. They are familiar to us as an
accompaniment, in pictorial representations, of the
solitary monk or anchorite, where the hour-glass is
generally exhibited along with the skull and crucifix.
They were also attached to pulpits, in order to
regulate the length of sermons.
But this last mode of employing hour-glasses seems
to have been chiefly introduced after the Reformation,
when long sermons came much into fashion. Previous to
that period, pulpit-discourses appear to have been
generally characterised by brevity. Many of St.
Austin's might be easily delivered in ten minutes; nor
was it usual in the church to devote more than half an
hour to the most persuasive eloquence. These old
sermons were of the nature of homilies, and it was
only when the church felt called upon to explain
tenets attacked, or eliminate doctrinal disputes, that
they altered in character; and the pulpit became a
veritable 'drum-ecclesiastic.'
From the days of
Luther, the length of sermons increased, until the
middle of the seventeenth century; when the Puritan
preachers inflicted discourses of two hours or more in
duration on their hearers. In some degree to regulate
these enthusiastic talkers, hour-glasses were placed
upon the desks of their pulpits, and in 1623, we read
of a preacher 'being attended by a man that brought
after him his book and hour-glass.' Some churches were
provided with half-hour glasses also, and we may
imagine the anxiety with which the clerk would regard
the choice made by the parson, as upon this would
depend the length of his attendance.
L'Estrange tells
an amusing story of a parish clerk, who had sat
patiently under a preacher, 'till he was
three-quarters through his second glass,' and the
auditory had slowly withdrawn, tired out by his
prosing; the clerk then arose at a convenient pause in
the sermon, and calmly requested 'when he had clone,'
if he would be pleased to close the church-door, 'and
push the key under it,' as himself and the few that
remained were about to retire.
In the sixteenth century, pulpits began to be
regularly furnished, with iron-work stands, for the
reception of the hour-glass. One of these in Compton
Bassett Church, Wilts, is here represented; the large
fleur-de-lys, in the centre of the iron bar, acts as a
handle by which the hour-glass may be turned in its
stand. Sometimes these stands and glasses were very
elaborate in design, and of costly materials. At
Hurst, in Berkshire, is a wrought-iron work of the
kind most intricately designed. It has the date 1636,
and the words, 'as this glass runneth, so man's life
passeth,' amid foliations of oak and ivy. The frame of
the hour-glass of St. Dunstan's, Fleet Street, was of
solid silver, and contained enough of the precious
metal to be melted clown, and converted into
staff-heads for the parish beadles.
The lonely church of Cliffe, on the Kentish coast,
between Gravesend and the Nore, furnishes us with a
second example of the stand alone. The pulpit is of
carved wood, dated 1634. This stand is affixed thereto
by a bracket, which bears upon the shield the date
1636. It is on the preacher's left side.
In the book of St. Katherine's Church, Aldgate,
date 1564, we find, 'Paid for an Hour-glass that
hangeth by the pulpit where the preacher doth make a
sermon, that he may know how the hour passeth away,
one shilling;' and in the same book, among the
bequests of date 1616, is 'an hewer-glass with a
frame of irone to stand in.'
In the time of Cromwell, the preacher, having named the text, turned up the
glass; and if the sermon did not last till the sand had run down, it was said by
the congregation that the preacher was lazy; but if, on the other hand, he
exceeded this limit, they would yawn
and stretch themselves till he had finished.
Many humorous stories originated from this clerical
usage. There is a print of Hugh Peter's preaching,
holding up the hour-glass, as he utters the words, 'I
know you are good-fellows, so let's have another
glass!' A similar tale is told of
Daniel Burgess, the
celebrated Nonconformist divine, at the beginning of
the last century. Famous for the length of his pulpit
harangues, and the quaintness of his illustrations, he
was at one time declaiming with great vehemence
against the sin of drunkenness, and in his ardour had
fairly allowed the hour-glass to run out before
bringing his discourse to a conclusion. Unable to
arrest himself in the midst of his eloquence, he
reversed the monitory horologe, and exclaimed,
'Brethren. I have somewhat more to say on the nature and
consequences of drunkenness, so let's have the other
glass�and then I'�the usual phrase adopted by topers
at protracted sittings.
Mr. James Maidment, in his
Third Book of Scottish Pasquils, has given a somewhat similar anecdote. 'A
humorous story,' he observes, 'has been preserved of
one of the Earls of Airly, who entertained at his
table a clergyman, who was to preach before the
Commissioner next day. The glass circulated, perhaps,
too freely; and whenever the divine attempted to rise,
his lordship prevented him, saying: "Another glass�and
then!" After conquering his lordship, his guest went
home. The next day the latter selected as his text,
"The wicked shall be punished and right airly!"
Inspired by the subject, he was by no means sparing of
his oratory, and the hour-glass was disregarded,
although he was repeatedly warned by the precentor,
who, in common with Lord Airly, thought the discourse
rather lengthy. The latter soon knew why he was thus
punished, by the reverend gentleman when reminded)
always exclaiming, not sotto voce, "Another glass�and
then! "'
Fosbroke, in his British Monachism, tells a quaint
tale of a mode by which long sermons were avoided:
'A
rector of Bibury used to preach two hours, regularly
turning the glass. After the text, the esquire of the
parish withdrew, smoked his pipe, and returned to the
blessing.'
Hogarth, in his 'Sleeping
Congregation,' has
introduced an hour-glass on the left-hand side of the
preacher. They lingered in country churches; but they
ceased to be in anything like general use after the
Restoration.