infant Saviour, in the same manner as the legend reports them to have done in the stable at Bethlehem. Bees were also said to sing in their hives at the same time, and bread baked on Christmas Eve, it was averred, never became mouldy. All nature was thus supposed to unite in celebrating the birth of Christ, and partake in the general joy which the anniversary of the Nativity inspired. THE CHRISTMAS-TREE: CHRISTMAS EVE IN GERMANY AND AMERICA. In Germany, Christmas Eve is for children the most joyous night in the year, as they then feast their eyes on the magnificence of the Christmastree, and rejoice in the presents which have been provided for them on its branches by their parents and friends. The tree is arranged by the senior members of the family, in the principal room of the house, and with the arrival of evening the children are assembled in an adjoining apartment. At a given signal, the door of the great room is thrown open, and in rush the juveniles eager and happy. There, on a long table in the centre of the room, stands the Christmas-tree, every branch glittering with little lighted tapers, while all sorts of gifts and ornaments are suspended from the branches, and possibly also numerous other presents are deposited separately on the table, all properly labelled with the names of the respective recipients. The Christmas-tree seems to be a very ancient custom in Germany, and is probably a remnant of the splendid and fanciful pageants of the middle ages. Within the last twenty years, and apparently since the marriage of Queen Victoria with Prince Albert, previous to which time it was almost unknown in this country, the custom has been introduced into England with the greatest success, and must be familiar to most of our readers. Though thoroughly an innovation on our old Christmas customs, and partaking, indeed, somewhat of a prosaic character, rather at variance with the beautiful poetry of many of our Christmas usages, he would be a cynic indeed, who could derive no pleasure from contemplating the group of young and happy faces who cluster round the Christmas-tree. S. T. Coleridge, in a letter from Ratzeburg, in North Germany, published in the Friend, and quoted by Hone, mentions the following Christmas customs as observed in that locality. Part of them seems to be derived from those ceremonies proper to St Nicholas's Day, already described under 6th December. 'There is a Christmas custom here which pleased and interested me. The children make little presents to their parents, and to each other, and the parents to their children. For three or four months before Christmas, the girls are all busy, and the boys save up their pocket-money to buy these presents. What the present is to be, is cautiously kept secret; and the girls have a world of contrivances to conceal it-such as working when they are out on visits, and the others are not with them; getting up in the morning before daylight, &c. Then, on the evening before Christmasday, one of the parlours is lighted up by the children, into which the parents must not go; a great yew-bough is fastened on the table at a little distance from the wall, a multitude of little tapers are fixed in the bough, but not so as to burn it till GERMANY AND AMERICA. they are nearly consumed, and coloured paper, &c., hangs and flutters from the twigs. Under this bough the children lay out, in great order, the presents they mean for their parents, still concealing in their pockets what they intend for each other. Then the parents are introduced, and each presents his little gift; they then bring out the remainder, one by one, from their pockets, and present them with kisses and embraces. Where I witnessed this scene, there were eight or nine children, and the eldest daughter and the mother wept aloud for joy and tenderness; and the tears ran down the face of the father, and he clasped all his children so tight to his breast, it seemed as if he did it to stifle the sob that was rising within it. I was very much affected. The shadow of the bough and its appendages on the wall, and arching over on the ceiling, made a pretty picture; and then the raptures of the very little ones, when at last the twigs and their needles began to take fire and snap -O! it was a delight to them! On the next day (Christmas-day), in the great parlour, the parents lay out on the table the presents for the children; a scene of more sober joy succeeds; as on this day, after an old custom, the mother says privately to each of her daughters, and the father to his sons, that which he has observed most praiseworthy, and that which was most faulty, in their conduct. Formerly, and still in all the smaller towns and villages throughout North Germany, these presents were sent by all the parents to some one fellow, who, in high-buskins, a white robe, a mask, and an enormous flax-wig, personates Knecht Rupert-i. e., the servant Rupert. On Christmas-night, he goes round to every house, and says that Jesus Christ, his Master, sent him thither. The parents and elder children receive him with great pomp and reverence, while the little ones are most terribly frightened. He then inquires for the children, and, according to the character which he hears from the parents, he gives them the intended presents, as if they came out of heaven from Jesus Christ. Or, if they should have been bad children, he gives the parents a rod, and in the name of his Master About recommends them to use it frequently. seven or eight years old, the children are let into the secret, and it is curious how faithfully they keep it.' In the state of Pennsylvania, in North America, where many of the settlers are of German descent, Christmas Eve is observed with many of the ceremonies practised in the Fatherland of the Old World. The Christmas-tree branches forth in all its splendour, and before going to sleep, the children hang up their stockings at the foot of the bed, to be filled by a personage bearing the name of Krishkinkle (a corruption of Christ-kindlein, or the Infant Christ), who is supposed to descend the chimney with gifts for all good children. If, however, any one has been naughty, he finds a birch-rod instead of sweetmeats in the stocking. This implement of correction is believed to have been placed there by another personage, called Pelsnichol, or Nicholas with the fur, in allusion to the dress of skins which he is supposed to wear. In this notion, a connection is evidently to be traced with the well-known legendary attributes of St Nicholas, previously described, though the benignant character of the saint is in this instance wofully belied. It is further to be remarked, that though the general and a similar assemblage in the reign of Queen Anne or the first Georges. One favourite Christmas sport, very generally played on Christmas Eve, has been handed down to us from time immemorial under the name of 'Snapdragon.' To our English readers this amusement is perfectly familiar, but it is almost unknown in Scotland, and it seems therefore desirable here to give a description of the pastime. A quantity of raisins are deposited in a large dish or bowl (the broader and shallower this is, the better), and brandy or some other spirit is poured over the fruit and ignited. The bystanders now endeavour, by turns, to grasp a raisin, by plunging their hands through the flames; and as this is somewhat of an arduous feat, requiring both courage and rapidity of action, a considerable amount of laughter and merriment is evoked at the expense of the unsuccessful competitors. As an appropriate accompaniment we introduce here The Song of Snapdragon. With his blue and lapping tongue Snip! Snap! Dragon! OME interesting particulars relative to the indoor diversions of our ancestors at Christmas, occur in the following passage quoted by Brand from a tract, entitled Round about our Coal-fire, or Christmas Enter tainments, which was published in the early part of the last century. The time of the year being cold and frosty, the diversions are within doors, either in exercise or by the fireside. Dancing is one of the chief exercises; or else there is a match at Blindman's Buff, or Puss in the Corner. The next game is Ques tions and Commands, when the commander may oblige his subjects to answer any lawful question, and make the same obey him instantly, under the penalty of being smutted [having the face blackened, or paying such forfeit as may be laid on the aggressor. Most of the other diversions are cards and dice.' From the above we gather that the sports on Christmas evenings, a hundred and fifty years ago, at the were not greatly dissimilar to those in vogue present day. The names of almost all the pastimes then mentioned must be familiar to every reader, who has probably also participated in them himself at some period of his life. Let us only add charades, that favourite amusement of modern drawing-rooms (and of these only the name, not the sport itself, was unknown to our ancestors), together with a higher spirit of refinement and delicacy, and we shall discover little difference between the juvenile pastimes of a Christmas-party in the reign of Queen Victoria, For he snaps at all that comes But Old Christmas makes him come, Whilst the sport of Snapdragon is going on, it is usual to extinguish all the lights in the room, 80 that the lurid glare from the flaming spirits may exercise to the full its weird-like effect. There seems little doubt that in this amusement we retain a trace of the fiery ordeal of the middle ages, and also of the Druidical fire-worship of a still remoter epoch. A curious reference to it occurs in the quaint old play of Lingua, quoted by Mr Sandys in his work on Christmas. Memory. Oh, I remember this dish well; it was first invented by Pluto to entertain Proserpine; withal. Phantastes. I think not so, Memory; for when Hercules had killed the flaming dragon of Hesperia, with the apples of that orchard he made this fiery meat; in memory whereof he named it Snapdragon.' Snapdragon, to personify him, has a 'poor rela tion' or 'country cousin,' who bears the name of Flapdragon. This is a favourite amusement among the common people in the western counties of England, and consists in placing a lighted candle in a can of ale or cider, and drinking up the contents of the vessel. This act entails, of course, considerable risk of having the face singed, and herein lies the essence of the sport, which may be averred to be a somewhat more arduous proceeding in these days of moustaches and long whiskers than it was in the time of our closeshaved grandfathers. The Mummers. The mummers, or, as they are styled in Scotland, the guisers or guizards, occupied a prominent place in the Christmas revels of the olden time, and their performances, though falling, like the other old customs of the season, into desuetude, are still kept up in several parts of the country. The passion for masquerade, like that for dramatic representation, seems an inherent one in human nature; and though social progress and fashion may modify and vary the peculiar mode of development, the tendency itself remains unaltered, and only adopts from age to age a new, and, it may be, more intellectual phase. Thus the rude and irreverent mysteries and miracle plays which delighted our ancestors, have been succeeded in the gradual course of improvement by the elaborate stage mechanism and display of our own times; and the coarse drolleries which characterised the old Christmas festivities, have made way for the games and charades, and other refined amusements of modern drawing-rooms. But in all these changes we only find an expression under altered and diversified forms of certain essential feelings and tendencies in the constitution of humanity. Looking back to the Roman Saturnalia, from which so many of our Christmas usages are derived, we find that the practice of masquerading was greatly in vogue at that season among the people of Rome. Men and women assumed respectively the attire of the opposite sex, and masks of all kinds were worn in abundance. The early Christians, we are informed, used, on the Feast of the Circumcision or New-year's Day, to run about in masks in ridicule of the pagan superstitions; but there can be no doubt that they also frequently shared in the frolics of their heathen neighbours, and the fathers of the church had considerable difficulty in prevailing on their members to refrain from such unedifying pastimes. Afterwards, the clergy endeavoured to metamorphose the heathen revels into amusements, which, if not really more spiritual in character than those which they supplanted, had at least the merit of bearing reference to the observances, and recognising the authority of the church and its ministers. The mysteries or miracle plays in which even the clergy occasionally took part as performers, were the results, amid numerous others, of this policy. These singular dramas continued for many centuries to form a favourite amusement of the populace, both at Christmas and other seasons of the year; and in the first volume of this work (p. 633) will be found an account of the celebration of the Whitsuntide mysteries at Chester. The Christmas mumming was in many respects a kindred diversion, though it appears to have partaken less of the religious element, and resembled more nearly those medieval pageants in which certain subjects and THE MUMMERS. characters, taken from pagan mythology or popular legends, were represented. Frequently, also, it when the sole object of the actors is to disguise assumed very much the nature of a masquerade, themselves, and excite alternately laughter and admiration by the splendid or ridiculous costumes in which they are arrayed. is The term mummer masker, and is derived from the Danish, mumme, or synonymous with Dutch, momme. The custom of mumming at the present day, such as it is, prevails only at the Christmas season, the favourite and commencing night for the pastime being generally Christmas Eve. Formerly, however, it seems to have been practised also at other times throughout the year, and Stow, in his Survey of London, has preserved to us an account of a splendid 'mummerie,' which, in 1377, was performed shortly before Candlemas by the citizens of London, for the amusement of Prince Richard, son of the Black Prince, and afterward the unfortunate monarch Richard II. In the year 1400, we are informed that Henry IV., holding his Christmas at Eltham, was visited by twelve aldermen and their sons as mummers, and that these august personages had great thanks' from his majesty for their performance. But shortly afterwards, as Fabyan tells us, a conspiracy to murder the king was organised under the guise of a Twelfth-night mumming. The plot was discovered only a few hours before the time of putting it in execution. Henry VIII, who ruthfessly demolished so many ancient institutions, issued an ordinance against mumming or guising, declaring all persons who went about to great houses arrayed in this fashion, liable to be arrested as vagabonds, committed to jail for three months, and fined at the king's pleasure. The reason assigned for this edict, is the number of murders and other felonies which have arisen from this cause. But we hear of no permanent or serious check sustained by the mummers in consequence. In the tract, Round about our Coal-fire, or Christmas Entertainments, already quoted, the following passage occurs in reference to the practice of mumming at a comparatively recent period: 'Then comes mumming or masquerading, when the squire's wardrobe is ransacked for dresses of all kinds. Corks are burnt to black the faces of the fair, or make deputy-moustaches, and every one in the family, except the squire himself, must be transformed.' And in further illustration of an old English pastime, the subjoined verses on mumming, in the characteristic form of the madrigal, from La Musa Madrigalesca, may here be introduced: 'To shorten winter's sadness, See where the folks with gladness Whilst youthful sports are lasting, For youth it well beseemeth, That mirth would have abated. Fa la' The grand and special performance of the mummers from time immemorial, has been the representation of a species of drama, which embodies the time-honoured legend of St George and the dragon, with sundry whimsical adjuncts, which contribute to give the whole affair an aspect of 'very tragical mirth.' The actors, chiefly young lads, having arrayed themselves in the costumes proper to the allegorical characters which they are to support, sally forth in company on Christmas Eve, to commence their round of visits to the houses of the THE MUMMERS. principal inhabitants of the parish. Arriving at the first residence in their way, they knock at the door, and claim the privilege of Christmas in the admission of St George and his 'merrymen.' The accompanying engraving delineates a motley_group on such an occasion as we are describing. First is seen Old Father Christmas, bearing, as emblematic devices, the holly bough, wassail-bowl, &c. Beside him stands a pretty little girl, carrying a branch of mistletoe. Then come the Grand Turk, the gallant knight, St George, and the latter's antagonist, the devouring dragon. A doctor is also present with a large box of pills to cure the wounded. Drums and other music accompany the procession, which, moreover, in the above engraving is represented as accompanied by the parish-beadle, whose command of the stocks, in days gone by, rendered him a terror to evil-doers, and insured the maintenance of order and decorum. The institution of the mummers, as already intimated, is one that has considerably declined, but it still flourishes in some of the remoter districts of England. As regards the guisers in Scotland, where the festivities of the winter-season cluster chiefly around the New Year, we shall have occasion to make special reference to them under the 31st of December. In conclusion, we present our readers with a specimen of the mumming-drama, as exhibited at the present day at Tenby, in South Wales. At this town, for three weeks at the Christmas season, the mummers are accustomed to go their rounds, mostly three in company, in a quaint guise, No. 1.-Here come I, Old Father Christmas, I hope Old Father Christmas A room-make room here, gallant boys, No. 2.-'Here come I, St George, the valiant man, And for this won the king of Egypt's daughter. I'll slay him, and cut him as small as flies, St George's challenge is soon taken up, for says 'Here come I, a Turkish knight, In Turkish land I learned to fight, To this rejoins No. 2, who says: If thou art a Turkish knight, A battle is the result; the Turk falls, and St 'Ladies and gentlemen, You 've seen what I've done, I've cut this Turk down Like the evening sun; Is there any doctor that can be found, To cure this knight of his deadly wound?' No. 1 re-enters, metamorphosed. 'Here come I, a doctor, A ten-pound doctor; I've a little bottle in my pocket, Called hokum, shokum, alicampane; I'll touch his eyes, nose, mouth, and chin, And say: "Rise, dead man," and he'll fight again.' After touching the prostrate Turk, the latter leaps up, ready again for the battle. St George, however, thinks this to be a favourable opportunity for sounding his own praises, and rejoins: Here am I, St George, with shining armour bright, And out of that into a prison leaped, And ran a fiery dragon through. To fight the Turk again.' A fight ensues, and St George, being again victor, repeats his request for a doctor, who succeeds, as before, in performing a miraculous cure, and at once comes forward as the Protector: 'Here come I, Oliver Cromwell, I made the French to tremble, And made their hearts to ache.' No. 2 then changes his character into that of the 'gentleman in black.' 'Here come I, Beelzebub, THE LORD OF MISRULE. Having finished his speech, the main object of the visit is thus delicately hinted by No. 3: 'Ladies and gentlemen, Our story is ended, Our money-box is recommended; Five or six shillings will not do us harm, After this appeal has been responded to, St George, The Lord of Misrule. The functionary with the above whimsical title played an important part in the festivities of Christmas in the olden time. His duties were to lead and direct the multifarious revels of the season, or, as we should say at the present day, to act as Master of the Ceremonies. The following account of him is given by Stow: 'In the feast of Christmas, there was in the king's house, wheresoever he lodged, a Lord of Misrule, or Master of Merry Disports, and the like had ye in the house of every nobleman of honour or good worship, were he spiritual or temporal. The Mayor of London, and either of the Sheriffs, had their several Lords of Misrule, ever contending, without quarrel or offence, who should make the rarest pastime to delight the beholders. These lords beginning their rule at Allhallond Eve, continued the same till the morrow after the Feast of the Purification, commonly called Candlemas Day, in which space there were fine and subtle disguisings, masks and mummeries, with playing at cards for counters, nayles and points, in every house, more for pastimes than for game.' In the university of Cambridge, the functions of the Lord of Misrule were performed by one of the Masters of Arts, who was regularly elected to superintend the annual representation of Latin plays by the students, besides taking a general charge of their games and diversions during the Christmas season, and was styled the Imperator or Præfectus Ludorum. A similar Master of Revels was chosen at Oxford. But it seems to have been in the Inns of Court in London that the Lord of Misrule reigned with the greatest splendour, being surrounded with all the parade and ceremony of royalty, having his lord-keeper and treasurer, his guard of honour, and even his two chaplains, who preached before him on Sunday in the Temple Church. On Twelfth Day, he abdicated his sovereignty, and we are informed that in the year 1635, this mock-representative of royalty expended in the exercise of his office about two thousand pounds from his own purse, and at the conclusion of his reign was knighted by Charles I. at Whitehall. The office, indeed, seems to have been regarded among the Templars as a highlyhonourable one, and to have been generally conferred on young gentlemen of good family. The following is an extract from the articles' drawn up by the Right Worshipful Richard Evelyn, Esq., father of the author of the Diary, and deputylieutenant of the counties of Surrey and Sussex, for appointing and defining the functions of a Christmas Lord of Misrule over his estate at Wotton :'Imprimis, I give free leave to Owen Flood, my trumpeter, gentleman, to be Lord of Misrule of all good orders during the twelve days. And also, I |