and then proceeds to give him advice, neither consistent with the assertion in the last line, nor becoming her character :

"Sweet Jesus, go down to yonder town,

As far as the Holy Well,

And take away those sinful souls,

And dip them deep in hell.

Nay, nay, sweet Jesus said,

Nay, nay, that may not be,

For there are too many sinful souls,
Crying out for the help of me."

Both these latter carols are given by Sandys, as amongst those which are still popular in the west of England; and we remember to have, ourselves, heard them both, many and many a time, in its northern counties.

We must give a single verse of one of the ancient French provincial noëls—for the purpose of introducing our readers to a strange species of chanted burthen; and then we must stop. It is directed to be sung, sur un chant joyeux ;" and begins thus:

66

"Quand Dieu naquit à Noël

Dedans la Judée,

On vit ce jour solemnel

La joie inondée;

Il n'étoit ni petit ni grand
Qui n'apportât son présent,

Et n'o, n'o, n'o, n'o,

Et n'offrit, frit, frit,

Et n'o, n'o, & n'offrit,

Et n'offrit sans cesse Toute sa richesse."

Our readers are, no doubt, aware that the carol-sheets still make their annual appearance at this season,-not only in the metropolis, but also in Manchester, Birmingham, and perhaps other towns. In London, they pass into the hands of hawkers; who wander about our streets and suburbs, enforcing the sale thereof, by (in addition to the irresistible attraction of the woodcuts with which they are embellished) the further recommend! ation of their own versions and variations of the original tunes— yelled out in tones which could not be heard, without alarm, by

any animals throughout the entire range of nature, except the domesticated ones, who are 66 broken to it. For ourselves, we confess that we are not thoroughly broken yet; and experience very uneasy sensations at the approach of one of these alarming choirs.

"Tis said that the lion will turn and flee,

From a maid in the pride of her purity."

We would rather meet him under the protection of a group of London carol-singers. We would undertake to explore the entire of central Africa, well-provisioned, and in such company, without the slightest apprehension, excepting such as was suggested by the music itself.

By these gentry, a very spirited competition is kept up, in the article of annoyance, with the hurdy-gurdies, and other instruments of that class, which awaken the echoes of all our streets, -and furnish a sufficient refutation of the assertion that we are not a musical nation. We have heard it said, that the atmosphere of London is highly impregnated with coal-smoke and barrelorgans. The breath of ballad-singers should enter into the account, at this season.

A very curious part of the business, however, is, that these people actually expect to get money, for what they are doing! With the most perfect good faith, they really calculate upon making a profit, by their outrages upon men's feelings! It is for the purpose of "putting bread into their mouths," that those mouths are opened in that portentous manner. For ourselves, we have a strong conviction that the spread of the emigration mania has been greatly promoted by the increase of ballad-singers in the land. We have frequently resolved to emigrate, on that account, ourselves; and if we could be perfectly certified of any desirable colony, to which no removals had taken place, from the class in question, we believe we should no longer hesitate. The existence of that class is a grievous public wrong, and calls loudly for legislation. We have frequently thought that playing a hurdygurdy in the streets should be treated as a capital crime.

Of the annual sheets, and of such other carols as may be recoverable, from traditional or other sources,—it is to be regretted

that more copious collections are not made, by the lovers of old customs, ere it be too late. Brand speaks of an hereditary collection of ballads, almost as numerous as the Pepysian collection, at Cambridge, which he saw, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, in the printing-office of the late Mr. Saint,—amongst which were several carols for the Christmas season. Hone, in his "Ancient Mysteries," gives a list of eighty-nine carols in his possession, all in present use (though likely soon to become obsolete), and exclusive of the modern compositions printed by religious societies, under the denomination of carols. He furnishes a curious proof of the attachment which the carol-buyers extend, from the old carols themselves, to the old rude cuts by which they are illustrated. "Some of these,” he says, "on a sheet of Christmas carols, in 1820, were so rude in execution, that I requested the publisher, Mr. T. Batchelar, of 115 Long Alley, Moorfields, to sell me the original blocks. I was a little surprised by his telling me that he was afraid it would be impossible to get any of the same kind cut again. When I proffered to get much better engraved, and give them to him in exchange for his old ones, he said, "Yes, but the better are not so good. I can get better myself: now these are old favorites, and better cuts will not please my customers so well." We have before us several of the sheets for the present season, issued from the printing-office and toy warehouse of Mr. Pitts, in the Seven Dials; and we grieve to say that, for the most part, they show a lamentable improvement in the embellishments, -and an equally lamentable falling-off in the literary contents. One of these sheets, however, which bears the heading title of "Divine Mirth," contains some of the old carols,—and is adorned with impressions from cuts, rude enough, we should think, to please even the customers of Mr. Batchelar.

Amongst the musical signs of the season, we must not omit to place that once important gentleman, the bellman; who was anciently accustomed, as our excellent friend, Mr. Hone, says, at this time, "to make frequent nocturnal rambles, and proclaim all tidings which it seemed fitting to him that people should be awakened out of their sleep to hearken to." From that ancient collection . "The Bellman's Treasury,"-which was once this now-decayed officer's Vade Mecum, we shall have occasion to extract, here

and there, in their proper places, the announcements by which, of old, he broke in upon the stillness of the several nights of this period. In the meantime, our readers may take the following example of Bell-man verses,-written by Herrick, and which we extract from his "Hesperides."

"From noise of scare-fires rest ye free,

From murders Benedicite;

From all mischances that may fright
Your pleasing slumbers in the night;
Mercie secure ye all, and keep
The goblin from you while ye sleep.
Past one aclock, and almost two,

My masters all, 'Good day to you.' ”

The bell of this ancient officer may still be heard, at the midnight hour of Christmas Eve (and perhaps on other nights), in the different parishes of London, performing the overture to a species of recitative, in which he sets forth (amongst other things) the virtues of his patrons (dwelling on their liberality), and offers them all the good wishes of the season. The printed papers containing the matter of these recitations he has been busy circulating amongst the parishioners, for some time; and, on the strength thereof, presents himself as a candidate for some expression of their good-will in return,-which, however, he expects should be given in a more profitable form. These papers, like the carolsheets, have their margins adorned with wood-cuts, after scriptural subjects. One of them now lies before us; and we grieve to say, that the quaint ancient rhymes are therein substituted by meagre modern inventions, and the wood-cuts exhibit a most ambitious pretension to be considered as specimens of improved art. There is a copy of Carlo Dolce's "Last Supper" at the foot.

The beadle of to-day is, in most respects, changed for the worse, from the bellman of old. Still, we are glad to hear his bell-which sounds much as it must have done of yore-lifting up its ancient voice amongst its fellows, at this high and general season of bells and bob-majors.

THE CHRISTMAS DAYS.

HAVING given our readers a historical and general account of this ancient festival, and a particular explanation of some of the principal tokens which, in modern times, as of old, bespeak the coming of its more high and ceremonious days,—we must now proceed to furnish them with a more peculiar description of those individual days themselves; confining ourselves as nearly as completeness of view will admit, within the limits which bound what is, in its most especial and emphatic sense, the Christmas season. In order, however, to attain this completeness of view, it has been necessary to allow ourselves certain points, lying, on both sides, without those strict boundaries;—and the selection which we have made includes the two conditions of giving us latitude enough for our purpose, and keeping reasonably close to the heart of the subject, at the same time. The reasons for this particular selection will more fully appear, in the accounts which we have to give of the individual days on which that selection has fallen, and in the further remarks which we have to make, generally, on that portion of the year which we place under the presidency of

OUR LORD OF MISRULE.