mark her kind smile at their ecstacies, her prodent shake of the head at their maltitudinous 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 top is their choice, and like their elders make them sigh for another. the possession of one bauble does but Now,” says Stevenson, in his Tevine Novom fill capons an beas, beses 203478 prest, fucks, with beef and mut View the fond father, his pet little giri m is a defie in twelve days a by the band, his boys walking before on Have of perge w not be fed with whom his proud eye rests, while ambiti Now plans and souce, starous views float o'er his mind for them, and bones, square a among pies and and make him but half attentive to their cock. Now a purneyman cares not a repeated inquiries; while at the Museum we begs his or Picture-gallery, his explanations are interrted by the rapture of discovering quainted with the different subjects exthat his children are already well achibited. the tere das Now If were mist the muss be in tone, de yua mist since and sar to then a bez vile the ared st by the fre. The court-mad leares buf ber muse and ms be sent again if she 1:|:|:ཀྱང 1:|: :༩ མམར ཀྱལ ཆོས Great is me corrente X- Leigh Hunt's Iunicator presents as & Susie to our coctempla - Le and beauty: HDAY CHILDREN. One of the most pleasing sits at this jen sist s te group of boys and pis suured fim schooL Go where pak, 128er of their joyös chubby ives prevent themsires to our notics. in the set the panorama, or play bouse, our bows are constantly assal ed be su not a whose eyes just pert bedekt tot a never rev. I am more dented in watching the PTRONIS WORLD of der ingenius experincs i hese Christmas shows, thAT & The Szits UERJ From the first forces turas, and lead bera dons we announce their arrival, to the fårt attempts at smlar mirth on recurn, I am interested in these Coserve the line of chaises with their warm-ke loads hurrying to tender and asing parents the sickly to be cherish ed, the strong to be amused; in a few mornings you shall see them, new clothes, warm pores, gathering around their mother at every toy-stop, claiming the promised but, boop, top, or marbles; Stretching half over the boxes at the theatre, adorned by maternal love, see galeries wondering at their height and at their enraptured faces now turned to the the number of regular placed beads contained in them, now directed towards the green 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 sapture when the panto-I m.me 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 not 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. 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 ancient sarcophagi at Rome. This introduction of the ox and the ass warming the infact in the crib with their breath, is a fanciful construction by catholic writers on Isaiah i. 3; "The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib." Sannazarius was a distinguished statesn in the kingdom of Naples. His s perb tomb in the church of St. Mark is decorated with two figures originally executed for and meant to represent Ápolio and Minerva; but as it appeared inde erous to admit heathen divinities into a christ an church, and the figures were thought too excellent to be removed, the person who shows the church is instructed to call them David and Judith: “You mistake," said a sly rogue who was one of a party surveying the curiosities, "the fures are St. George, and the queen of Evet's daughter." The demonstrator made a low bow, and thanked him.* FLORAL DIRECTORY. my abound, and to Dedicated to Sts. Thrasilla and Emilians. The festival of the nativity was anciently kist by diferent churches in April, May, and in this month. It is now kept on this day by every established church of christian denomination; and is a holiday all over alire England, observed by the suspension of གནC a prbce and private business, and the congregating of friends and relations for ← còmárt and joy." In that same houre that Christ himselfe was borne, and came to light, And unto water streight againe transformde and altred quight. There are beside that mindfully the money still do watch, That first to aultar commes, which then they privily do snatch. The priestes, least other should it have, takes oft the same away, Whereby they thinke throughout the yeare to have good lucke in play, And not to lose: then straight at game till day-light do they strive, To make some present proofe how well their hallowde pence wil thrive. Three Masses every priest doth sing, upon that solemne day, With offrings unto every one, that so the more may play. This done, a woodden child in clowtes is on the aultar set, About the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly jet, And Carrols sing in prayse of Christ, and, for to helpe them heare, The organs auns were every verse with sweete and solemne cheare. The priestes doe rore aloude; and round about the parentes stande To see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande. The commemorations in our own times vary from the account in these versifyings. An accurate observer, with a hand powerful to seize, and a hand skilled in preserving manners, offers us a beautiful sketch of Christmas-tide in the "New Monthly Magazine," of December 1, 1825. Foremost in his picture is the most estimable, because the most useful and ornamental character in society,-a good parish priest. "Our pastor was told one day, in argument, that the interests of christianity were opposed to universal enlightenment. I shall not easily forget his answer. The interests of christianity,' said he, are the same as the interests of society. It has no other meaning. Christianity is that very enlightenment you speak of. Let any man find out that thing, whatever it be, which is to perform the very greatest good to society, even to its own apparent detriment, and I say that is christianity, or I know not the spirit of its founder. What?' continued he, shall we take christianity for an arithmetical puzzle, or a contradiction in terms, or the bitterness of a bad argument, or the interests, real or supposed, of any parti cular set of men? God forbid. I wish to speak with reverence (this conclusion struck me very much)-I wish to speak with reverence of whatever has taken place in the order of Providence. I wish to think the best of the very evils that have happened; that a good has been got out of them; perhaps that they were even necessary to the good. But when once we have attained better means, and the others are dreaded by the benevolent, and scorned by the wise, then is the time come for throwing open the doors to all kindliness and to all knowledge, and the end of christianity is attained in the reign of beneficence.' "In this spirit our pastor preaches to us always, but most particularly on Christmas day; when he takes occasion to enlarge on the character and views of the divine person who is supposed then to have been born, and sends us home more than usually rejoicing. On the north side of the church at M. are a great many holly-trees. It is from these that our dining and bed-rooms are furnished with boughs. Families take it by turns to entertain their friends. They meet early; the beef and pudding are noble; the mince-pies-peculiar; the nuts half play-things and half-eatables; the oranges as cold and acid as they ought to be, furnishing us with a superfluity which we can afford to laugh at; the cakes indestructible; the wassail bowls generous, old English, huge, demanding ladles, threatening overflow as they come in, solid with roasted apples when set down. Towards bed-time you hear of elder-wine, and not seldom of punch. At the manorhouse it is pretty much the same as elsewhere. Girls, although they be ladies, are kissed under the misletoe. If any family among us happen to have hit upon an exquisite brewing, they send some of it round about, the squire's house includ ed; and he does the same by the rest. Riddles, hot-cockles, forfeits, music, dances sudden and not to be suppressed, prevail among great and small; and from two o'clock in the day to midnight, M. looks like a deserted place out of doors, but is full of life and merriment within Playing at knights and ladies last year, jade of a charming creature must needs send me out for a piece of ice to put in her wine. It was evening and a hard frost. I shall never forget the cold, cutting, dreary, dead look of every thing out of doors, with a wind through the wiry trees, and the snow on the ground, contrasted with the sudden return to warmth, light, and joviality. "I remember we had a discussion that time, as to what was the great point and crowning glory of Christmas. Many were for mince-pie; some for the beef and plum-pudding; more for the wassailbowl; a maiden lady timidly said, the misletoe; but we agreed at last, that although all these were prodigious, and some of them exclusively belonging to the season, the fire was the great indispensable. Upon which we all turned our faces towards it, and began warming our already scorched hands. A great blazing fire, too big, is the visible heart and soul of Christmas. You may do without beef and plum-pudding; even the absence of mince-pie may be tolerated; there must be a bowl, poetically speaking, but it need not be absolutely wassail. The bowl may give place to the bottle. But a huge, heaped-up, over heaped-up, allattracting fire, with a semicircle of faces about it, is not to be denied us. It is the lar and genius of the meeting; the proof positive of the season; the representative of all our warm emotions and bright thoughts; the glorious eye of the room; the inciter to mirth, yet the retainer of order; the amalgamater of the age and sex; the universal relish. Tastes may differ even on a mince-pie; but who gainsays a fire? The absence of other luxuries still leaves you in possession of that; but • Who can hold a fire in his hand From a newspaper of 1823, (the name unfortunately no noted at the time, and not immediately ascertainable), it appears that Christmas in France is another thing from Christmas in England. An "The habits and customs of the Parisians vary much from those of our own metropolis at all times, but at no time more than at this festive season. Englishman in Paris, who had been for some time without referring to his almanac, would not know Christmas-day from another by the appearance of the capital. It is, indeed, set down as a jour de fete in the calendar, but all the ordinary business of life is transacted; the streets are, as usual, crowded with waggons and coaches; the shops, with few exceptions, are open, although on other fete days the order for closing them is With thinking on the frostiest twelfth rigorously enforced, and if not attended cake?' "Let me have a dinner of some sort, no matter what, and then give me my fire, and my friends, the humblest glass of wine, and a few penn'orths of chesnuts, and I will still make out my Christmas. What! Have we not Burgundy in our blood? Have we not joke, laughter, repartee, bright eyes, comedies of other people, and comedies of our own; songs, memories, hopes? [An organ strikes up in the street at this word, as if to answer me in the affirmative. Right, thou old spirit of harmony, wandering about in that ark of thine, and touching the public ear with sweetness and an abstraction! Let the multitude bustle on, but not unarrested by thee and by others, and not unreminded of the happiness of renewing a wise childhood. As to our old friends tu, a fine levied; and at the churches nothing extraordinary is going forward. All this is surprising in a catholic country, which professes to pay such attention to the outward rites of religion. "On Christmas-eve indeed, there is some bustle for a midnight mass, to which immense numbers flock, as the priests, on this occasion, get up a showy spectacle which rivals the theatres. The altars are dressed with flowers, and the churches decorated profusely; but there is little in all this to please men who have been accustomed to the John Bull mode of spending the evening. The good English habit of meeting together to forgive offences and injuries, and to cement reconciliations, is here unknown. The French listen to the church music, and to the singing of their choirs, which is generally excellent, but they know nothing of the origin of the day |