of endless variety, in which the presents may be enclosed: balloons, books, fruit, such as oranges, nectarines, peaches; and even vegetables, as cauliflowers, or a root of celery-any thing, in short, which can be made with a hollow to contain the sweetmeats: but the most prevailing device is called a cornet; that is, a little cone ornamented in different ways, with a bag to draw over the large end, and close it up. It is not always that these little devices are used, because all cannot afford to purchase them; but still the new-year's gift must be made, if it be only wrapped in paper. The morning of the day is passed in this manner; then a dinner is given by some one of the family, and the evening is spent in the way most agreeable to the company. So, Angelina, when you go to France, you will feel highly gratified with the mode in which this day is kept.

ANGELINA. I shall, indeed: but although, as mamma says, the customary compliments have, in this country, dwindled into insignificance, I hope to see them some day revived.

men.

MR. CONSTANCE. I fear, Angelina, you will be disappointed. Commerce, all-engrossing commerce, has done much to create a selfish principle in the breasts of EnglishThe feastings and convivialities of former times have given place to more lucrative, if not more pleasing occupations; and men are now taught to look upon Christmas, the new year, and each turn of the seasons, as periods when settlements in trade are to be closed, rather than as affording opportunities for social intercourse. The custom of making a new-year's gift, in which you so much delight, appears also to have created an evil, at least so far as it was connected with public characters. The Romans are said to have had the honour of introducing the practice into this country; but that which was merely intended as a friendly remembrance, soon became perverted into a bribe;

C

presents were made to magistrates and others, for the purpose of biassing their judgments, until the immoralities committed were so flagrant as to enforce inquiry, when the receivers were obliged to relinquish their advantages. There is an anecdote related of the great Sir Thomas More, Lord Chancellor in the reign of Henry VIII., which is much to the credit of that exalted character. A lady, who had obtained a decree in Chancery, availed herself of the first new-year's day, to present Sir Thomas with a pair of gloves, containing a handsome sum of money, as a token of her gratitude. He accepted the gloves, but firmly, though politely, refused the gold, saying-" It would be against good manners to forsake a gentlewoman's gift, and I accept the gloves; their lining you will be pleased other wise to bestow."

CHARLES, I wonder if such was the origin of the term glove-money, and the custom of giving a pair of gloves in the present day.

WILLIAM. Probably it was: the term is made use of in old records. Among other presents formerly common at this season of the year, you will be surprised to learn that pins were included. Between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the ladies used wooden skewers; but when the art and mystery of pin-making was discovered, these trifles became acceptable presents, as the ladies will no doubt acknowledge. Hence arose, also, the term pin-money, used as a familiar expression for small gifts in general. MR. CONSTANCE. The next day of importance which I observe in the calendar, is the 6th of this month.

WILLIAM. It is, Sir; and is called Epiphany, signifying disclosing or appearance, and kept as a church festival on the twelfth day after Christmas, in commemoration of the manifestation of our Lord to the Gentiles, by the appearance of a miraculous star. It has been so observed for upwards of a thousand years, having been

instituted in the year 813. It was also kept in honour of the ancient magi; who, according to a tradition of the Romish church, were three in number, and of royal dignity. You are aware that in our prayer-book there are lessons for the day, and the six following Sundayɛ.

ARTHUR. The 6th of January is also called Twelfth Day, when we draw for king and queen, and have cake and wine, as mamma says we shall do. Can you tell, William, why it is called Twelfth Day, and what gave rise to that custom?

WILLIAM. It is so called because the day is celebrated on the twelfth day after Christmas, or on Old Christmasday; but authors differ in their accounts of the origin of this festivity, now so universal. Some maintain that it is derived from a custom amongst the Roman children, who drew lots, with beans, to see who should be king; but others consider it to be an allusion to the offerings made by the magi, or wise men, to Jesus, when an infant. The drawing for king and queen, though now considered to be rather childish, was formerly practised at our Universities, and the lots were decided by beans found in the divided cake; which appears to have been the original manner, instead of that which now prevails, of drawing from folded slips of paper; for Herrick, the admired writer on ancient ceremonies, in his book called "Twelfth Night, or King and Queene," says,

"Now, now the mirth comes,

With the cake full of plums,

Where Beane's the King of the sport here;

Beside we must know,

The Pea also

Must revel as Queene in the court here.”

Therefore, whoever found the bean and pea, enjoyed the same honours as those do who now draw king and queen. ANGELINA. In catholic countries this is a grand

festival. Lady Morgan, to whom we are indebted for her lively and entertaining descriptions of foreign manners, has given an account of the Carnival as observed in Rome, and which commences on this day. I will take the liberty of reading it. "The carnival," she 66 says, commences on Twelfth Day; but its public festivities are reserved for the last week or ten days. Formerly, they commenced with an execution, a criminal being reserved for the purpose. But this custom, Cardinal Gonsalvi has, to his great honour, abolished. The carnival holds out some most favourable traits of the actual condition of the Italians; for if the young and profligate abuse its days of indulgence, a large portion of the middle and inferior classes are exhibited to public observation in the touching and respectable aspect of domestic alliance and family enjoyment; which under all laws, all religions, and all governments, those classes best preserve. A groupe of three generations frequently presents itself, crowded into an open carriage, arranged on hired chairs along the Corso, or towering emulously one above the other in galleries erected near the startingpost of the course, taking no other part in the brilliant tumult, than as the delighted spectators of a most singular and amusing scene. For several days before the beginning of these festivities, 'the city of the dead' exhibits the agitation, bustle, and hurry of the living. The shops are converted into wardrobes; whole streets are lined with masks and dominos, the robes of sultans, and jackets of pantaloons; canopies are suspended, balconies and windows are festooned with hangings and tapestry; and scaffolds are erected for those who have not the interest to obtain admission to the houses and palaces along the whole line of the Corso.

"At the sound of the cannon, which, fired from the Piazza di Venezia, each day announce the commencement of the amusements, shops are closed, palaces de

serted, and the Corso's long and narrow defile teems with nearly the whole of the Roman population. The scene then exhibited is truly singular, and, for the first day or two, infinitely amusing. The whole length of the street, from the Porta del Popolo to the foot of the Capitol, a distance of considerably more than a mile, is patrolled by troops of cavalry; the windows and balconies are crowded from the first to the sixth story, by spectators and actors, who, from time to time, descend, and take their place and parts in the procession of carriages, or among the maskers on foot. Here and there the monk's crown and cardinal's red skull-cap are seen peeping among the heads not more fantastic than their own. The chairs and scaffolding along the sides of the street are filled to crushing with maskers, and country folk in their gala dresses (by far the most grotesque that the carnival produces). The centre of the Corso is occupied by the carriages of princes, potentates, the ambassadors of all nations, and the municipality of Rome; and the two lines of carriages, moving in opposite directions on each side, are filled by English peers, Irish commoners, Polish counts, Spanish grandees, German barons, Scotch lairds, and French marquises; but above all, by the hired jobs of the badauds and pizzicaroli of Rome.* These form not the least curious and interesting part of the procession, and best represent the carnival as it existed a century back. In an open carriage sits bolt upright, la signora padrona, or mistress of the family, her neck covered with rows of coral, pearl, or false gems; her white satin robe and gaudy head-dress left to the pitiless pelting of the storm,' showered indiscriminately from all the houses, and by the pedestrians, or the occupants of carriages, in the form of sugar-plums, but in substance of

"To drive out to the Corso in a hired job, full of children, &c. is called ‘far il pizzicarolo;' to go on a cockney party of pleasure.”