the members of the Common Council, and other officers of the respective city wards.

The civil government of the City of London is said to bear a general resemblance to the legislative power of the empire :—the Lord Mayor exercising the functions of monarchy, the Aldermen those of the peerage, and the Common Council those of the legis lature. The principle difference is, that the Lord Mayor himself has no negative. The laws for the internal regulation of the City are wholly framed by these officers, acting in Common Council.-A Common-Council-man is, therefore, a personage of no mean importance.

Loving Christmas and its ceremonies with antiquarian veneration, we must profess likewise our profound respect for wards of such high sounding names as Dowgate, and Candlewick, and Cripplegate, and Vintry, and Portsoken,-the last of which, be it spoken with due courtesy, has always reminded us of an Alderman's nose ;—and for such distinguished callings as those of Cordwainers, and Lorimers, and Felt makers, and Fishmongers, and Plasterers, and Vintners, and Barbers,-each of whom we behold, in perspective, transformed into what Theodore Hook calls "a splendid annual," or, in less figurative language, Lord Mayor of London!—There is a pantomimic magic in the word, since the memorable days of Whittington. But to our theme.—

Pepys, the gossiping secretary of the Admiralty, records, in his curious diary, his having gone, on Saint Thomas's-day (21st December, 1663), "to Shoe Lane, to see a cocke-fighting, at the new pit there, a spot," he adds, "I was never at it in my life: but, Lord! to see the strange variety of people, from parliament-man (by name Wildes, that was deputy governor of the Tower, when Robinson was lord mayor), to the poorest 'prentices, bakers, brewers, butchers, draymen, and what not; and all these fellows, one with another, cursing and betting. I soon had enough of it. It is strange to see how people of this poor rank, that look as if they had not bread to put into their mouths, shall bet three or four pounds at a time, and lose it, and yet as much the next battle, so that one of them will lose £10 or £20 at a meeting."

Now the cock-fighting of our times, under the immediate patronage of Saint Thomas, and those of Pepys's, differ little, except

in the character of the combatants. In his (comparatively speaking) barbarous days, it was sufficient to pit two birds, one against the other, to excite the public, or amuse the spectators. But a purer taste prevails among the present citizens of London; for our modern "fighting-cocks," as the candidates for civic honors are called, seem on this day to be fully occupied with the morning exhibition of their own foul tongues,—and bets often run as high as parties, on these occasions.

"Saint Thomas's birds,"-another name for these civic fighting-cocks, have been trained in various ale-house associations, such as the "Ancient and honorable Lumber Troop,"-the venerable "Society of Codgers,"—"the free and easy Johns,"--the "Councillors under the Cauliflower," and other well-known clubs; where politics, foreign and domestic,-night after night are discussed, and mingle with the smoke of tobacco, inhaled through respectable clay pipes, and washed down with nips full of amber ale, or quarts of frothy-headed porter. Indeed the qualification for admission into the Lumber Troop is, we have been told, the power of consuming a quart of porter at a draught, without once pausing to draw breath,-which must be performed before that august assembly. We once visited the head-quarters of this porter-quaffing troop; and found the house, with some difficulty, near Gough Square,-which lies in that intricate region between Holborn Hill and Fleet Street. It was a corner house; and an inscription upon the wall, in letters of gold, informed the passenger that this was the place of meeting of the Lumber Troop. The room in which they met is small, dark, and ancient in appearance; with an old-fashioned chimney-piece in the centre, and a dais or raised floor at one end,-where, we presume, the officers of the troop take their seats. Above their heads, upon a shelf, some small brass cannon were placed as ornaments; and the walls of the room were decorated with the portraits of distinguished troopers,-among whom Mr. Alderman Wood, in a scarlet robe, and Mr. Richard Taylor, were pointed out to our notice Over the fire-place hung the portrait of an old gentleman, in the warlike costume of Cromwell's time, who was, probably,

"Some Fleet Street Hampden."

The obscurity which conceals the origin of many interesting and important institutions hangs over the early history of the Lumber Troop. Tradition asserts that, when Henry VIII. went to the siege of Boulogne, he drained the country of all its 'soldiers; and the citizens of London who remained behind, inspired with martial ardor, formed themselves into a troop, for the protection of old England. In the grotesque and gouty appearance of these troopers, their name of the Lumber Troop is said to have originated. Their field-days, as may be expected, were exhibitions of merriment; and their guards and midnight watches scenes of feasting and revelry. The "Lumber-pye" was formerly a dish in much repute,-being composed of high-seasoned meats and savory ingredients, for the preparation of which receipts may be found in the old cookery books. Recently, it has been corrupted into Lombard Pie, on account, as is said, of its Italian origin; -but we profess allegiance to the more ancient name.

Let those who hold lightly the dignity of a Lumber Trooper,and who perhaps have smiled at the details here given,-inquire of the representatives of the city of London, in the parliament of England, their opinion of the matter. We have been assured that these jolly troopers influence every city election to such an extent that, without an understanding with these worthies, no candidate can have a chance of success. In the same way, the codgers, in Codger's Hall, Bride Lane (said to have been "instituted in 1756, by some of the people of the Inner Temple,-who imagined their free thoughts and profound cogitations worthy of attention, and charged half-a-crown for the entrée), and other alehouse clubs, exert their more limited power. Hone, in his Every-Day Book, observes that "these societies are under currents that set in strong; and often turn the tide of an election in favor of some 'good fellow,' who is good nowhere but in 'sot'shole." And he adds, commenting upon St. Thomas's-day, "Now the 'gentlemen of the inquest,' chosen at the church' in the morning, dine together, as the first important duty of their office; and the re-elected ward-beadles are busy with the fresh chosen constables; and the watchmen [this was before the days of the police] are particularly civil to every drunken gentleman' who happens to look like one of the new authorities. And now

the bellman, who revives the history and poetry of his predecessors, will vociferate

'My masters all, this is St. Thomas's-day,
And Christmas now can't be far off, you'll say.
And when you to the Ward-motes do repair,

I hope such good men will be chosen there,
As constables for the ensuing year,

As will not grudge the watchmen good strong beer." "

We may observe, here, that St. Thomas's Day is commonly called the shortest of the year,—although the difference between its length and that of the twenty-second is not perceptible. The hours of the sun's rising and setting, on each of those days, are marked as the same in our calendar,—and the latter is, sometimes, spoken of as the shortest day.

As the days which intervene between this and the Eve of Christmas are distinguished by no special ceremonial of their own, and as the numerous observances attached to several of the particular days which follow, will sufficiently prolong those parts of our subject,—we will take this opportunity of alluding to some of the sports and festivities not peculiar to any one day, but extending, more or less generally, over the entire season.

Burton, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," mentions, as the winter amusements of his day,—" Cardes, tables and dice, shovelboard, chesse-play, the philosopher's game, small trunkes, shuttlecocke, billiards, musicke, masks, singing, dancing, ule-games, frolicks, jests, riddles, catches, purposes, questions and commands, merry tales of errant knights, queenes, lovers, lords, ladies, giants, dwarfes, theeves, cheaters, witches, fayries, goblins, friers," &c. Amongst the list of Christmas sports, we elsewhere find mention of "jugglers, and jack-puddings, scrambling for nuts and apples, dancing the hobby-horse, hunting owls and squirrels, the foolplough, hot-cockles, a stick moving on a pivot, with an apple at one end and a candle at the other, so that he who missed his bite burned his nose, blindman's buffs, forfeits, interludes and mock plays:"-also of "thread my needle, Nan," "he can do little that can't do this," feed the dove, hunt the slipper, shoeing the wild mare, post and pair, snap dragon, the gathering of omens,

and a great variety of others. In this long enumeration, our readers will recognize many which have come down to the present day,—and form, still, the amusement of their winter evenings, at the Christmas-tide, or on the merry night of Halloween. For an account of many of those which are no longer to be found in the list of holiday games, we must refer such of our readers as it may interest to Brand's "Popular Antiquities," and Strutt's “ English Sports." A description of them would be out of place in this volume; and we have mentioned them, only as confirming a remark which we have elsewhere made; viz.—that, in addition to such recreations as arise out of the season, or belong to it in a special sense,-whatever other games or amusements have, at any time, been of popular use, have generally inserted themselves into this lengthened and joyous festival; and that all the forms in which mirth or happiness habitually sought expression, congregated, from all quarters, at the ringing of the Christmas bells.

To the Tregetours, or jugglers, who anciently made mirth at the Christmas fire-side, there are several allusions in Chaucer's tales; and Aubrey, in reference thereto, mentions some of the tricks by which they contributed to the entertainments of the season. The exhibitions of such gentry, in modern times, are generally of a more public kind,-and it is rarely that they find their way to our fire-sides. But we have, still, the galanteeshowman, wandering up and down our streets and squares-with his musical prelude and tempting announcement, sounding through the sharp evening air,—and summoned into our warm rooms, to display the shadowy marvels of his mysterious box, to the young group who gaze, in great wonder and some awe, from their inspiring places by the cheerful hearth.

Not that our firé-sides are altogether without domestic fortunetellers, or amateur practitioners in the art of sleight-of-hand. But the prophecies of the former are drawn from—and the feats of the other performed with-the cards. Indeed we must not omit to particularize cards, as furnishing, in all their uses, one of their great resources, at this season of long evenings and in-door amusements,―as they appear, also, to have formed an express feature of the Christmas entertainments of all ranks of people, in old times.

We are told that the squire, of three hundred a-year,