these fires, and made their sons and daughters, together with their cattle, pass the fire; and the whole was conducted with religious solemnity."

In

Mr. Brand notices, that Mr. Douce has a curious French print, entitled "L'este le Feu de la St. Jean;" Mariette ex. the centre is the fire made of wood piled up very regularly, and having a tree stuck in the midst of it. Young men and women are represented dancing round it hand in hand. Herbs are stuck in their hats and caps, and garlands of the same surround their waists, or are slung across their shoulders. A boy is represented carrying a large bough of a tree. Several spectators are looking on. The following lines are at the bottom :"Que de Feux brulans dans les airs! Qu'ils font une douce harmonie ! Redoublons cette mélodie

Par nos dances, par nos concerts!" This "curious French print," furnished the engraving at page 825, or to speak more correctly, it was executed from one in the possession of the editor of the Every-Day Book.

To enliven the subject a little, we may recur to recent or existing usages at this period of the year. It may be stated then on the authority of Mr. Brand's collections, that the Eton scholars formerly had bonfires on St. John's day; that bonfires are still made on Midsummer eve in several villages of Gloucester, and also in the northern parts of England and in Wales; to which Mr. Brand adds, that there was one formerly at Whiteborough, a tumulus on St. Stephen's down near Launceston, in Cornwall. A large summer pole was fixed in the centre, round which the fuel was heaped up. It had a large bush on the top of it. Round this were parties of wrestlers contending for small prizes. An honest countryman, who had often been present at these merriments, informed Mr. Brand, that at one of them an evil spirit had appeared in the shape of a black dog, since which none could wrestle, even in jest, without receiving hurt in consequence of which the wresting was, in a great measure, laid aside. The rustics there believe that giants are Duried in these tumuli, and nothing would tempt them to be so sacrilegious as to disturb their bones.

In Northumberland, it is customary on this day to dress out stools with a cushion

of flowers. A layer of clay is placed on the stool, and therein is stuck, with great regularity, an arrangement of all kinds of flowers, so close as to form a beautiful cushion. These are exhibited at the doors of houses in the villages, and at the ends of streets and cross-lanes of larger towns, where the attendants beg money from passengers, to enable them to have an evening feast and dancing.*

One of the "Cheap_Repository Tracts," entitled, "Tawney Rachel, or the Fortune-Teller," said to have been written by Miss Hannah More, relates, among other superstitious practices of Sally Evans, that “she would never go to bed on Midsummer eve, without sticking up in her room the well-known plant called Midsummer Men, as the bending of the leaves to the right, or to the left, would never fail to tell her whether her lovet was true or false." The Midsummer Men were the orpyne plants, which Mr. Brand says is thus elegantly alluded to in the Cottage Girl," a poem "written on Midsummer eve, 1786:"—

66

"The rustic maid invokes her swain; And hails, to pensive damsels dear, This eve, though direst of the year.

"Oft on the shrub she casts her eye, That spoke her true-love's secret sigh; Or else, alas! too plainly told

Her true-love's faithless heart was cold.'

In the "Connoisseur," there is mention of divinations on Midsummer eve. cake together: you must know, two must "I and my two sisters tried the dumbmake it, two bake it, two break it, and lows, (but you must not speak a word all the third put it under each of their pilthe time), and then you will dream of the man you are to have. This we did: and to be sure I did nothing all night but dream of Mr. Blossom. The same night, exactly at twelve o'clock, I sowed hempseed in our back-yard, and said to myself,--'Hemp-seed I sow, hemp-seed I hoe, and he that is my true-love come after me and mow.' Will you believe me? I looked back, and saw him behind me, as plain as eyes could see him. After that, I took a clean shift and wetted it, and turned it wrong-side out, and hung it to the fire upon the back of a chair and very likely my sweetheart would have come and turned it right again, (for 1

Hutchinson's Northumberland.

heard his step) but I was frightened, and could not help speaking, which broke the charm. I likewise stuck up two Midsummer Men, one for myself and one for him. Now if his had died away, we should never have come together, but I assure you his blowed and turned to mine. Our maid Betty tells me, that if I go backwards, without speaking a word, into the garden upon Midsummer eve, and gather a rose, and

keep it in a clean sheet of paper, without looking at it till Christmas-day, it will be as fresh as in June; and if I then stick it in my bosom, he that is to be my husband will come and take it out. My own sister Hetty, who died just before Christmas, stood in the church porch last Midsummer eve, to see all that were to die that year in our parish; and she saw her own apparition."

Gay, in one of his pastorals, says—

At eve last Midsummer no sleep I sought,
But to the field a bag of hemp-seed brought:
I scattered round the seed on every side,
And three times, in a trembling accent cried :—
"This hemp seed with my virgin hand I sow,
Who shall my true love be, the crop shall mow."
I straight looked back, and, if my eyes speak truth,
With his keen scythe behind me came the youth.

It is also a popular superstition that any unmarried woman fasting on Midsummer eve, and at midnight laying a clean cloth, with bread, cheese, and ale, and sitting down as if going to eat, the street-door being left open, the person whom she is afterwards to marry will come into the room and drink to her by bowing; and after filling the glass will leave it on the table, and, making another bow, retire.*

So also the ignorant believe that any person fasting on Midsummer eve, and sitting in the church porch, will, at midnight, see the spirits of the persons of that parish who will die that year, come and knock at the church door, in the order and succession in which they will die.

In the "Cottage Girl," before referred to, the gathering the rose on Midsummer eve and wearing it, is noticed as one of the modes by which a lass seeks to divine the sincerity of her suitor's vows:

The moss-rose that, at fall of dew,
(Ere Eve its duskier curtain drew,)
Was freshly gather'd from its stem,
She values as the ruby gem;
And, guarded from the piercing air,
With all an anxious lover's care,
She bids it, for her shepherd's sake,
Await the new-year's frolic wake—
When, faded, in its alter'd hue
She reads the rustic is untrue!
But, if it leaves the crimson paint,
Her sick'ning hopes no longer faint.
The rose upon her bosom worn,
She meets him at the peep of morn;
And lo! her lips with kisses prest,
He plucks it from her panting breast.

In "Time's Telescope," there is cited the following literal version of a beautiful ballad which has been sung for many centuries by the maidens, on the banks of the Guadalquivir in Spain, when they go forth to gather flowers on the morning of the festival of St John the baptist :—

Spanish Ballad.

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, 'tis the day of good St. John,
It is the Baptist's morning that breaks the hills upon;

And let us all go forth together, while the blessed day is new,
To dress with flowers the snow-white wether, ere the sun has dried the dew.

Come forth, come forth, &c.

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, the hedgerows all are green,
And the little birds are singing the opening leaves between ;
And let us all go forth together, to gather trefoil by the stream,
Ere the face of Guadalquivir glows beneath the strengthening beam.

Come, forth, come forth, &c.

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, and slumber not away
The blessed, blessed morning of John the Baptist's day;
There's trefoil ou the meadow, and lilies on the lee,

And hawthorn blossoms on the bush, which you must pluck with me.

* Grose

Come forth, come forth. &c.

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, the air is calm and cool,
And the violet blue far down ye'll view, reflected in the pool;
The violets and the roses, and the jasmines all together,
We'll bind in garlands on the brow of the strong and lovely wether.

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, we'll gather myrtle boughs,
Aud we all shall learn, from the dews of the fern, if our lads will keep their vows
If the wether be still, as we dance on the hill, and the dew hangs sweet on the flowers,
Then we'll kiss off the dew, for our lovers are true, and the Baptist's blessing is ours.
Come forth, come forth, c.

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, 'tis the day of good St. John,

It is the Baptist's morning that breaks the hills upon;
And let us all go forth together, while the blessed day is new,
To dress with flowers the snow-white wether, eie the sun has dried the dew.

The St. John's Wort.

The young maid stole through the cottage door,
And blushed as she sought the plant of pow'r.

"Thou silver glow-worm, O lend me thy light,
I must gather the mystic St. John's wort to-night,
'The wonderful herb, whose leaf will decide
If the coming year shall make me a bride."
And the glow-worm came
With its silvery flame,

And sparkled and shone
Thro' the night of St. John,

And soon has the young maid her love-knot tied

With noiseless tread

To her chamber she sped,

Where the spectral moon her white beams shed :-
"Bloom here-bloom here, thou plant of pow'r,
To deck the young bride in her bridal hour!"
But it drooped its head that plant of power,
And died the mute death of the voiceless flower.
And a withered wreath on the ground it lay,
More meet for a burial than bridal day.

And when a year was past away,

All pale on her bier the young maid lay

And the glow-worm came

With its silvery flame,

And sparkled and shone

Thro' the night of St. John,

And they closed the cold grave o'er the maid's cold clay.

COPENHAGEN-HOUSE.

In olden times, so high a rise Was, perhaps, a Tor or beacon ground And lit, or larm'd, the country round, For pleasure, or against surprise

There is a cobler's stall in London that I go out of my way to look at whenever