FEBRUARY.

——— Then came cold February, sitting
In an old waggon, for he could not ride,
Drawne of two fishes, for the season fitting,
Which through the flood before did softly slyde
And swim away; yet had he by his side
His plough and harnesse fit to till the ground,
And tooles to prune the trees before the pride
Of hasting prime did make them burgeon round.

Spenser.

This month has Pisces or the fishes for its zodiacal sign. Numa, who was chosen by the Roman people to succeed Romulus as their king, and became their legislator, placed it the second in the year, as it remains with us, and dedicated it to Neptune, the lord of waters. Its name is from the Februa, or Feralia, sacrifices offered to the manes of the gods at this season. Ovid in his Fasti attests the derivation:

In ancient times, purgations had the name
Of Februa, various customs prove the same;
The pontiffs from the rex and flamen crave
A lock of wool; in former days they gave
To wool the name of Februa.
A pliant branch cut from a lofty pine,
Which round the temples of the priests they twine,
Is Februa called; which if the priest demand,
A branch of pine is put into his hand;
In short, with whatsoe’er our hearts we hold
Are purified, was Februa termed of old;
Lustrations are from hence, from hence the name
Of this our month of February came;
In which the priests of Pan processions made;
In which the tombs were also purified
Of such as had no dirges when they died;
For our religious fathers did maintain
Purgations expiated every stain
Of guilt and sin; from Greece the custom came,
But here adopted by another name;
The Grecians held that pure lustrations could
Efface an impious deed, or guilt of blood
Weak men; to think that water can make clean
A bloody crime, or any sinful stain.

Massey’s Ovid.

Our Saxon ancestors, according to Verstegan, “called February Sprout-kele, by kele meaning the kele-wurt, which we now call the colewurt, the greatest pot-wurt in time long past that our ancestors used, and the broth made therewith was thereof also called kele; for before we borrowed from the French the name of potage, and the name of herbe, the one in our owne language was called kele, and the other wurt; and as this kele-wurt, or potage-hearbe, was the chiefe winter-wurt for the sustenance of the husbandman, so was it the first hearbe that in this moneth began to yeeld out wholesome yong sprouts, and consequently gave thereunto the name of Sprout-kele.” The “kele” here mentioned, is the well-known kale of the cabbage tribe. But the Saxons likewise called this month “Solmonath,” which Dr. Frank Sayers in his “Disquisitions” says, is explained by Bede “mensis placentarum,” and rendered by Spelman in an unedited manuscript “pan-cake month,” because in the course of it, cakes were offered by the pagan Saxons to the sun; and “Sol,” or “soul,” signified “food,” or “cakes.”

In “The Months,” by Mr. Leigh Hunt, he remarks that “if February were not the precursor of spring, it would be the least pleasant season of the year, November not excepted. The thaws now take place; and a clammy mixture of moisture and cold succeeds, which is the most disagreeable of wintry sensations.” Yet so variable is our climate, that the February of 1825 broke in upon the inhabitants of the metropolis with a day or two of piercing cold, and realized a delightful description of January sparkled from the same pen. “What can be more delicately beautiful than the spectacle which sometimes salutes the eye at the breakfast-room window, occasioned by the hoar-frost dew? If a jeweller had come to dress every plant over night, to surprise an Eastern sultan, he could not produce any thing like the ‘pearly drops,’ or the ‘silvery plumage.’ An ordinary bed of greens, to those who are not at the mercy of their own vulgar associations, will sometimes look crisp and corrugated emerald, powdered with diamonds.”