by 84 inches wide, representing the stable at Bethlehem; Christ in the crib, watched by the virgin and Joseph; shepherds kneeling; angels attending; a man playing on the bagpipes; a woman with a basket of fruit on her head; a sheep blea ing, and an ox lowing on the ground; a raven croaking, and a crow cawing on the hay-rack; a cock crowing above them; and angels singing in the sky. The animals have labels from their mouths, bearing Latin inscriptions. Down the side of the wood-cut is the following account and explanation: "A religious man, inventing the conceits of both birds and beasts, drawn in the picture of our Saviour's birth, doth thus express them: the cock croweth, Christus natus est, Christ is born. The raven asked, Quando? When? The crow replied, Hac nocte, This night. The ox cryeth out, Ubi? Ubi? Where? where? The sheep bleated out, Bethlebem, Bethlehem. A voice from heaven sounded, Gloria in Excelsis, Glory be on high-London: printed and sold by J. Bradford, in Little Britain, the corner house over against the Pump, 1701. Price One Penny." This carol is in the possession of Mr. Upcott. The custom of singing carols at Christmas prevails in Ireland to the present time. In Scotland, where no church feasts have been kept since the days of John Knox, the custom is unknown. In Wales it is still preserved to a greater extent, perhaps, than in England; at a former period, the Welsh had carols adapted to most of the ecclesiastical festivals, and the four seasons of the year, but in our times they are limited to that of Christmas. After the turn of midnight at Christmaseve, service is performed in the churches, followed by the singing of carols to the harp. Whilst the Christmas holidays continue, they are sung in like manner in the houses, and there are carols especially adapted to be sung at the doors of the houses by visiters before they enter. Lffyr Carolan, or the book of carols, contains sixty-six for Christmas, and five summer carols; Blodeugerdd Cymrii, or the "Anthology of Wales," contains fortyeight Christmas carols, nine summer carols, three May carols, one winter carol, one nightingale carol, and a carol to Cupid. The following verse of a carol for Christmas is literally translated from the first mentioned volume. The poem was written by Hugh Morris, a celebrated songwriter during the commonwealth, and until the early part of the reign of William III : "To a saint let us not pray, to a pope let us not kneel; With the succeeding translation of a Welsh wassail song, the observer of manners will, perhaps, be pleased. In Welsh, the lines of each couplet, repeated inversely, still keep the same sense. A Carol for the Eve of St. Mary's Day. This is the season when, agreeably to custom, By the old people who were happy In their time, and loved pleasure; And we are now purposing To be like them, every one merry: Merry and foolish, youths are wont to be, Being reproached for squandering abroad. I know that every mirth will end Too soon of itself; Before it is ended, here comes The wassail of Mary, for the sake of the time: In the rage for "collecting" almost every thing, it is surprising that "collectors" have almost overlooked carols as a class of popular poetry. To me they have been objects of interest from circumstances which occasionally determine the direction of pursuit. The wood-cuts round the annual sheets, and the melody of "God rest you merry gentlemen,” delighted my childhood; and I still listen with pleasure to the shivering carolist's evening chant towards the clean kitchen window decked with holly, the flaring fire showing the whitened hearth, and reflecting gleams of light from the surfaces of the dresser utensils. Davies Gilbert, Esq. F. R.S. F. A. S. &c. has published "Ancient Christmas carols, with the tunes to which they were formerly sung in the west of England." Mr. Gilbert says, that Christmas-day these carols took the place of psalms in all the churches, especially at afternoon service, the whole congregation joining and at the end it was usual for the parish clerk, to declare in a loud voice, his wishes for a merry Christmas and a happy new year." : In "Poor Robin's Almanac," for 1695, there is a Christmas carol, which is there called, "A Christmas Song," beginning thus: Now thrice welcome, Christmas, With holly and ivy THOMAS EVANS. So green and so gay; Is a king in conceit. So much only concerning carols for the present. But more shall be said hereon in the year 1826, if the editor of the Every-Day Book live, and retain his faculties to that time. He now, howev, earin every part of England, to collect every nestly requests of every one of its readers time in the year 1825, and convey these carol that may singing at Christmas with accounts of manners and customs carols to him at their earliest convenience, peculiar to their neighbourhood, which urges and solicits this most earnestly and are not already noticed in this work. He anxiously, and prays his readers not to forget that he is a serious and needy suitor. They see the nature of the work, thing that they think pleasant or reand he hopes that any thing and every communicating to him without delay. markable, they will find some means of The most agreeable presents he can receive at any season, will be contributions and hints that may enable him to blend useful information with easy and cheerful amusement. CUSTOMS ON Christmas Eve. Mr. Coleridge writing his " Friend," from Ratzeburg, in the north of Germany, mentions a practice on Christmaseve very similar to some on December the 6th, St. Nicholas'-day. Mr. Coleridge says, "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 pocketmoney 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 day-light, &c. Then, on the evening before Christmas-day, 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 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 present, as if they came out of heaven from Jesus Christ. Or, if they should have been bad children, he gives the parents a red, and, in the name of his master, recommends them to use it frequently. About seven or eight years old the children are let into the secret, and it is curious how faithfully they keep it." A correspondent to the "Gentleman's Magazine," says, that when he was a school-boy, it was a practice on Christmaseve to roast apples on a string till they dropt into a large bowl of spiced ale which is the whole composition of lamb's wool. Brand thinks, that this popular beverage obtained its name from the softness of the composition, and he quotes from Shakspeare's "Midsummer-Night's Dream," "Sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab ; It was formerly a custom in England on Christmas-eve to wassail, or wish health to the apple-tree. Herrick enjoins to "Wassaile the trees, that they may beare You many a plum, and many a peare; For more or lesse fruits they will bring, And you do give them wassailing." In 1790, it was related to Mr. Brand, by sir Thomas Acland, at Werington, that in his neighbourhood on Christmaseve it was then customary for the country people to sing a wassail or drinking-song, and throw the toast from the wassail-bowl to the apple-trees in order to have a fruitful year. "Pray remember," says T. N. of Cambridge, to the editor of the Every-Day Book," that it is a Christmas custom from time immemorial to send and receive presents and congratulations from one friend to another; and, could the number of baskets that enter London at this season be ascertained, it would be astonishing ; exclusive of those for sale, the number and weight of turkeys only, would surpass belief. From a historical account of Norwich it appears, that between Satur day morning and the night of Sunday, December 22, 1793, one thousand seven hundred turkeys, weighing 9 tons, 2 cwt. 2 lbs. value 6801. were sent from Norwich to London; and two days after half as many more.' Now," says Stevenson, in his Twelve Months, 1661, "capons and hens, besides turkeys, geese, ducks, with beef and mutton, must all die; for in twelve days a multitude of people will not be fed with a little. Now plums and spice, sugar and honey, square it among pies and broth. Now a journeyman cares not a rush for his master, thoug. e begs his plum-porridge all the twelve days. Now or never must the music be in tune, for the youth must dance and sing to get them a heat, while the aged sit by the fire. The country-maid leaves half her market, and must be sent again if she forgets a pack of cards on Christmas-eve. Great is the contention of holly and ivy, whether master or dame wears the breeches; and if the cook do not lack wit, he will sweetly lick his fingers." Mr. Leigh Hunt's Indicator presents this Christmas picture to our contemplation-full of life and beauty : HOLIDAY CHILDREN. One of the most pleasing sights at this festive season is the group of boys and girls returned from school. Go where you will, a cluster of their joyous chubby faces present themselves to our notice. In the streets, at the panorama, or playhouse, our elbows are constantly assailed by some eager urchin whose eyes just peep beneath to get a nearer view. I am more delighted in watching the vivacious workings of their ingenuous countenances at these Christmas shows, than at the sights themselves. From the first joyous huzzas, and loud blown horns which announce their arrival, to the faint attempts at similar mirth on their return, I am interested in these youngsters. Observe the line of chaises with their warm-like loads hurrying to tender and exulting parents, the sickly to be cherished, the strong to be amused; in a few mornings you shall see them, new clothes, warm gloves, gathering around their mother at every toy-shop, claiming the promised bat, hoop, top, or marbles; mark her kind smile at their ecstacies, her prudent shake of the head at their multitudinous demands; her gradual yielding as they coaxingly drag her in her patience with their whims and clamour while they turn and toss over the play-things, as now a sword, and now a hoop is their choice, and like their elders the possession of one bauble does but make them sigh for another. View the fond father, his pet little giri by the hand, his boys walking before on whom his proud eye rests, while ambitious views float o'er his mind for them, and make him but half attentive to their repeated inquiries; while at the Museum or Picture-gallery, his explanations are interrupted by the rapture of discovering that his children are already well acquainted with the different subjects ex hibited. Stretching half over the boxes at the theatre, adorned by maternal love, see their enraptured faces now turned to the galleries wondering at their height and at tained in them, now directed towards the the number of regular placed beads congreen cloud which is so lingeringly kept between them and their promised bliss. The half-peeled orange laid aside when the play begins; their anxiety for that which they understand; their honest laughter which runs through the house like a merry peal of sweet bells; the fear of the little girl lest they should discover the person hid behind the screen; the exultation of the boy when the hero conquers. But, oh, the Lapture when the pantomime commences! Ready to leap out of the box, they joy in the mischief of the clown, laugh at the thwacks he gets for his meddling, and feel no small portion of contempt for his ignorance in knowing that hot water will scald and gunpowder explode; while with head aside to give fresh energy to the strokes, they ring their little palms against each other in testimony of exuberant delight. not Who can behold them without reflecting on the many passions that now lie dormant in their bosoms, to be in a few years agitating themselves and the world. Here the coquet begins to appear in the attention paid to a lace frock or kid gloves for the first time displayed, or the domestic tyrant in the selfish boy, wha snatches the largest cake, or thrusts his younger brother and sister from the best place. At no season of the year are their holi |