Lett this boare's head and mustard So important was the office of boar's-head bearer considered to be, that, in 1107, Holinshed has chronicled the circumstance of England's king, Henry II., bringing up to the table of his son, the young prince, a boar's head, with trumpeters going before him. From this species of service, it is probable that many of our heraldic bearings have originated. "The ancient crest of the family of Edgecumbe," observes Ritson, "was the boar's head, crowned with bays, upon a charger; which," he adds, "has been very injudiciously changed into the entire animal." This same diligent arranger and illustrator of our old ballads gives us, in his collection of ancient songs, a Boar's-head Carolwhich probably belongs to the fourteenth century,—from a manuscript in his possession,-now, we believe, in the British Mu The printing-press of Wynkyn de Worde has preserved to us the carol, believed to have been generally used, prior to 1521, upon these occasions; a modernized version of which continues to be sung, in Queen's College, Oxford. It is entitled, "A Caroll, bringyne in the Bores heed," and runs thus: "Caput apri defero Reddens laudes Domino, The bore's heade in hande bring I The bore's head I understande Is the chefe servyce in this lande, Servite cum cantico. Be gladde, lordes both more and lasse, A tradition of the same college states the introduction there of the boar's head (which, according to Ritson, is now a mere representation, "neatly carved in wood"), to be contrived "as a commemoration of an act of valor, performed by a student of the college, who, while walking in the neighboring forest of Shotover, and reading Aristotle, was suddenly attacked by a wild boar. The furious beast came, open-mouthed, upon the youth; who, however, very courageously, and with a happy presence of mind, is said to have rammed in the volume, and cried græcum est,— fairly choking the savage with the sage." To this legend, a humorous song, in honor of the Boar's head, at Queen's College, Oxford," refers, having for its motto, "Tam Marti quam Mercurio"-but for which we cannot afford space. 66 The ancient mode of garnishing the boar's head, was with sprigs of sweet-scented herbs. Dekker (than whom we could not name a more appropriate authority on this subject), speaking of persons apprehensive of catching the plague, says, "they went (most bitterly) miching and muffled up and down, with rue and wormwood stuft into their eares and nostrils, looking like so many bore's heads, stuck with branches of rosemary, to be served in for brawne at Christmas." The following lines describe the manner of serving up this famous dish : "If you would send up the brawner's head, Sweet rosemary and bays around it spread; His foaming tusks let some large pippin grace, The roguish mustard, dangerous to the nose; Porridge with plums, and Turkeys, with the chine." Sack and hippocras are no longer to be found in our cellars; but, as we have shown, we still compound the wassail-bowl. The Christmas dinner of modern days is—as most of our readers know, a gathering together of generations, an assembling of Israel by its tribes. Contrast with this modern Christmas dinner—as well as with the high festival of yore—the dreary picture of a Christmas-day and dinner, under the stern prescription of the Puritans-as given in his diary, by Pepys, the chatty secretary to the Admiralty. "1668, Christmas-day. To dinner," thus he writes, "alone with my wife; who, poor wretch! sat undressed, all day till ten at night, altering and lacing of a noble petticoat; while I, by her, making the boy read to me the life of Julius Cæsar and Des Cartes' book of Music." But the best of the day is yet to come!-and we should have no objection to join the younger members of the group, in the merry sports that await the evening. We need not give the programme. It is like that of all the other Christmas nights. The blazing fire, the song, the dance, the riddle, the jest, and many another merry sport, are of its spirits. Mischief will be com mitted under the misletoe bough,—and all the good wishes of the season sent round under the sanction of the wassail-bowl. ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 26TH DECEMBER. THIS day-which, in our calendar, is still dedicated to the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen (for John the Baptist perished in the same cause, before the consummation of the old law, and the full introduction of the Christian dispensation),—is more popularly known by the title of Boxing-day; and its importance, amongst the Christmas festivities, is derived from the practice whence that title comes. We have already mentioned that the custom of bestowing gifts, at seasons of joyous commemoration, has been a form of thankfulness at most periods;—and that it may have been directly borrowed, by the Christian worshippers, from the Polytheists of Rome, along with those other modes of celebration which descended to the Christmas festival, from that source,-introduced, however, amongst our own observances, under scripture sanctions, drawn both from the Old and New Testaments. The particular form of that practice, whose donations are known by the title of Christmas-boxes (and which appear to differ from New-year's gifts in this, that the former, passing from the rich to the poor, and from the master to his dependants, are not reciprocal in their distribution, whereas the latter are those gifts, for the mutual expression of good-will and congratulation, which are exchanged between friends and acquaintances), was, perhaps, originally one of the observances of Christmas-day, and made a portion of its charities. The multiplied business of that festival, however, probably caused it to be postponed till the day following,—and thereby placed the Christmas-boxes under the patronage of St. Stephen. The title itself has been derived, by some, from the box which was kept on board of every vessel that sailed upon a distant voyage, for the reception of donations to the priest; who, in return, was expected to offer masses for the safety of the expedition, to the particular saint having charge of the ship—and, above all, of the box. This box was not to be opened till the return of the vessel; and we can conceive that, in cases where the mariners had had a perilous time of it, this casket would be found to enclose a tolerable offering. Probably the state of the box might be as good an evidence as the log-book, of the character of the voyage which had been achieved. The mass was, at that time, called Christmass;-and the boxes kept to pay for it were, of course, called Christmass-boxes. The poor, amongst those who had an interest in the fate of these ships,- -or of those who sailed in them,-were in the habit of begging money from the rich, that they might contribute to the mass boxes; and hence the title which has descended to our day :-giving to the anniversary of St. Stephen's martyrdom the title of Christmas-boxing dayand, by corruption, its present popular one of Boxing-day. A relic of these ancient boxes yet exists, in the earthen or wooden box, with a slit in it, which still bears the same name; and is carried, by servants and children, for the purpose of gathering money, at this season-being broken only when the period of collection is supposed to be over. Most of our readers know that it was the practice, not many years ago (and in some places is so still), for families to keep lists of the servants of tradesmen and others, who were considered to have a claim upon them for a Christmas-box at this time. The practice, besides opening a door to great extortion,-is one, in every way, of considerable annoyance, and is on the decline. There is, however, as they who are exposed to it know,—some danger in setting it at defiance, where it is yet in force. One of the most amusing circumstances, arising out of this determination to evade the annoyances of Boxing-day, is related by Sandys. person in trade had imprudently given directions that he should be denied, on this day, to all applicants for money; and amongst those who presented themselves at his door, on this errand, was, unfortunately, a rather importunate creditor. In the height of his indignation, at being somewhat uncourteously repulsed, he imme. A |