sovereign of another character; and in Elizabeth's day, it was an affair of no trifling expense to maintain ground as a courtier. The lists of the kind of gifts which she exacted from all who approached her (for the necessity of giving-the consequences of not giving—amounted to an exaction), and the accounts of the childish eagerness with which she turned over the wardrobe finery, furnished in great abundance-as the sort of gift most suited to her capacity of appreciation-furnish admirable illustrations of her mind. She is said to have taken good care that her returns should leave a very substantial balance in her own favor. The practice is said to have been extinguished in the reign of George III.

A worse custom still, however, was that of presenting gifts to the Chancellor, by suitors in his court, for the purpose of influencing his judgments. The abuses of the new-year's-gift practice, have, however, been cleared away;-and have left it what it now is,—a beautiful form for the interchange of affection, and the expression of friendship.

In Paris-where this day is called the Jour d'étrennes,—the practice is of still more universal observance than with us: and the streets are brilliant with the displays, made in every window, of the articles which are to furnish these tokens of kindness,— and with the gay equipages, and well-dressed pedestrians, passing in all directions, to be the bearers of them, and offer the compliments which are appropriate to the season. The thousand bells of the city are pealing from its hundred belfries-filling the air with an indescribable sense of festival,—and would alone set the whole capital in motion, if they were a people that ever sat still. This singing of a thousand bells is likewise a striking feature of the day, in London : -and no one, who has not heard the mingling voices of these high choristers, in a metropolis, can form any notion of the wild and stirring effects produced by the racing and crossing, and mingling of their myriad notes. It is as if the glad voices of the earth had a chorus of echoes, in the sky ;-as if the spirit of its rejoicing were caught up by "airy tongues,”—and flung, in a cloud of incense-like music, to the gates of heaven.

We need scarcely mention that most of the other forms in which the mirth of the season exhibits itself, are in demand on this oc

casion; and that, among the merry evenings of the Christmastide, not the least merry is that which closes New-year's day. To the youngsters of society, that day and eve have probably been the most trying of all; and the strong excitements of a happy spirit drive the weary head to an earlier pillow than the young heart of this season at all approves. But his is the weariness that the sweet sleep of youth so surely recruits; and tomorrow shall see him early a-foot,-once more engaged in those winter amusements which are to form his resource, till the novelties of Twelfth-day arrive.

"There will come an eve to a longer day,

That will find thee tired-but not of play :-
And thou wilt lean, as thou leanest now,
With drooping limbs and an aching brow;
And wish the shadows would faster creep,
And long to go to thy quiet sleep!--
Well were it then if thine aching brow
Were as free from sin and shame as now!"

TWELFTH DAY, AND TWELFTH NIGHT.

6TH JANUARY.

TWELFTH-DAY (So called from its being the twelfth after Christmasday), is that on which the festival of the Epiphany is held. This feast of the Christian church was instituted, according to Picart, in the fourth century, to commemorate the manifestation of our Saviour to the Gentiles; and the name Epiphany (Eripavɛia), which signifies an appearance from above, was given to it, in allusion to the star described in Holy Writ, as the guide of the Magi, or wise men, to the cradle of the blessed Infant. "In Italy," says Mr. Leigh Hunt, "the word has been corrupted into Beffania or Beffana (as in England it used to be called Piffany); and Beffana, in some parts of that country, has come to mean an old fairy or Mother Bunch,—whose figure is carried about the streets, and who rewards or punishes children at night, by putting sweetmeats or stones and dirt, into a stocking, hung up for the purpose, near the bed's head. The word Beffa, taken from this, familiarly means a trick or mockery put upon any one; to such base uses may come the most splendid terms !" But what is quite as extraordinary as that the primitive signification of a word, not familiarly understood, should, amid the revolution of centuries, be lost in a different, or distorted into an inferior meaning, is the preservation, in popular rites, of trivial details; which, as we have before stated, conclusively identify many of the practices of our modern Christian festivals, as echoes of ancient pagan observances. Of this, Twelfth-day presents a remarkable instance.

The more we examine the Saturnalia of the Romans, and compare those revels with the proceedings of our Twelfth-night, the more satisfied do we feel of the correctness of Selden's view.

"Christmas," he says, in his Table Talk, "succeeds the Saturnalia; the same time, the same number of holydays. Then, the master waited upon the servant, like the Lord of Misrule." There is here a general likeness to the season of which we treat; but, as Mr. Brand further states, the Greeks and Romans, at this period, also drew lots for kingdoms,-and, like kings, exercised their temporary authority;" and Mr. Fosbroke mentions that "the king of Saturnalia was elected by beans,"—which identifies our Twelfth-night characters, as well as our mode of selecting them, with those of the ancients. Through so many centuries has chance decided who should wear a crown! By the French, Twelfth-day was distinguished as "La Fête des Rois,”—a name, of course, obnoxious to the revolutionary fraternity of 1792, who caused such feast to be declared anti-civic, and replaced it by "La Fête des Sans-Culottes."

However, before entering upon the important discussion of the "absolute monarchy" of "the king of cakes and characters," -in which, without any reference to profane ceremonies, there was sufficient found to offend puritanical ideas,—we must be allowed to mention some customs observed on the vigil, or eve, of the feast of the Epiphany. Amongst these, was the practice of wassailing the trees, to insure their future fruitfulness,-mentioned by Herrick :—

"Wassaile the trees, that they may beare
You many a plum, and many a peare;
For more or lesse fruits they will bring,
As you do give them wassailing."

The merry bowl which (notwithstanding that it had been so often drained) was still kept brimming throughout all the Christmas holidays, was now, when they were drawing to a close, actually flowing over; and the warm heart and jovial spirit of the season, not content with pledging all those who could drink in return, proceeded to an excess of boon-companionship,—and, after quaffing a wassail draught to the health and abundant bearing of some favorite fruit-tree, poured what remained in the cup upon the root, as a libation to its strength and vitality. Here, also, we cannot fail to recognize the rites of classical times, lurking in the

superstitions used in the cider districts of England. A pleasant custom of this kind is mentioned in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1791, as existing in certain parts of Devonshire. It is there stated, that "the farmer, attended by his workmen, with a large pitcher of cider, goes to the orchard on this evening; and there, encircling one of the best bearing trees, they drink the following toast three times :

"Here's to thee, old apple tree!

Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow!
And whence thou mayst bear apples enow!

Hats full caps full!

Bushel, bushel-sacks full !

And my pockets full too!-Huzza !”

This done, they return to the house, the doors of which they are sure to find bolted by the females; who, be the weather what it may, are inexorable to all entreaties to open them, till some one has guessed at what is on the spit,-which is generally some nice little thing difficult to be hit on, and is the reward of him who first names it. The doors are then thrown open; and the lucky clod-pole receives the tit-bit, as a recompense. Some," it is added, "are so superstitious as to believe that, if they neglect this custom, the trees will bear no apples that year."

"Health to thee, good apple tree!

Well to bear, pockets-full, hats-full,
Pecks-full, bushel-bags-full,"-

is another version of the address used on these occasions, preserved by Brand. We find recorded, in one quarter or another, a variety of analogous and other customs, observed, in different parts of England, on this vigil :-but our diminishing space will not permit us to enter upon a description of them.

During the entire twelve months, there is no such illumination of pastry-cooks' shops, as on Twelfth-night. Each sends forth a blaze of light; and is filled with glorious cakes,-" decorated," to use the words of Mr. Hone, "with all imaginable images of things animate and inanimate. Stars, castles, kings, cottages, dragons, trees, fish, palaces, cats, dogs, churches, lions, milk