as they receded, became more soft and aërial, and seemed to accord with the quiet and moonlight. I listened and listened; they became more and more tender and remote, and, as they gradually died away, my head sunk upon the pillow, and I fell asleep.

When I woke the next morning, it seemed as if all the events of the preceding evening had been a dream, and nothing but the identity of the ancient chamber convinced me of their reality. While I lay musing on my pillow, I heard a sound of little feet pattering outside of the door, and a whispered consultation. Presently a choir of small voices chanted forth an old Christmas carol, the burden of which was

Rejoice, our Saviour he was born
On Christmas-day in the morning.

I rose softly, slipped on my clothes, opened the door suddenly and beheld one of the most beautiful little fairy groups that a painter could imagine. It consisted of a boy and two girls, the eldest not more than six, and lovely as seraphs. They were going the round of the house, and singing at every chamber-door; but my sudden appearance frightened them into mute bashfulness. They remained for a moment playing upon their lips with their fingers, and now and then stealing a shy glance from under their eyebrows, until, as if by one impulse, they scampered away and so turned an angle of the gallery; I heard them laughing in triumph at their escape.

Everything conspired to produce kind and happy feelings in this stronghold of old-fashioned hospitality. I had scarcely dressed myself when a servant appeared to invite me to family prayers. Our breakfast consisted of what the squire denominated true old English fare.

While we were talking we heard the distant toll of the village bell, and I was told that the squire was a little particular in having his household at church on a Christmas morning; considering it a day of pouring out of thanks and rejoicing; for as old Tusser observes,

At Christmas be merry, and thankful withal,

And feast thy poor neighbours, the great with the small.

CHRISTMAS IN AN OLD HALL.

539

On reaching the church porch, we found the parson rebuking the grey-headed sexton for having used misletoe among the greens with which the church was decorated. It was, he observed, an unholy plant, profaned by having been used by the Druids in their mystic ceremonies; and though it might be innocently employed in the festive ornamenting of halls and kitchens, yet it had been deemed by the fathers of the church as unhallowed, and totally unfit for sacred purposes. So tenacious was he on this point, that the poor sexton was obliged to strip down a great part of the humble trophies of his taste before the parson would consent to enter upon the service of the day.

The parson gave us a most erudite sermon on the rites and ceremonies of Christmas, and the propriety of observing it, not merely as a day of thanksgiving, but of rejoicing, supporting the correctness of his opinion on the earliest usages of the church, and enforcing them by the authorities of Theophilus of Cesarea, St. Cyprian, St. Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and a cloud more of saints and fathers, from whom he made copious quotations. I was a little at a loss to perceive the necessity of such a mighty array of forces to maintain a point which no one present seemed inclined to dispute; but I soon found that the good man had a legion of ideal adversaries to contend with. * He concluded by urging his hearers, in the most solemn and affecting manner, to stand to the traditional customs of their fathers, and feast and make merry on this joyful anniversary of the church.

*

*

I have seldom known a sermon attended apparently with more immediate effects, for on leaving the church the congregation seemed one and all possessed with the gaiety of spirit so earnestly enjoined by their pastor. The elder folks gathered in knots in the churchyard, greeting and shaking hands; and the children ran about crying Ule! Ule!' and repeating some uncouth rhymes, which the parson, who had joined in, informed me had been handed down from days of yore. The villagers doffed their hats to the squire as he passed, giving him the good wishes of the

Ule! Ule!

Three puddings in a pule,
Crack nuts, and cry Ule!

season with every appearance of heartfelt sincerity, and were invited by him to the hall to take something to keep out the cold of the weather; and I heard blessings uttered by several of the poor, which convinced me that, in the midst of his enjoyment, the worthy old cavalier had not forgotten the true Christmas virtue of charity.

We had not been long home when the sound of music was heard from a distance. A band of country lads, without coats, their shirt-sleeves fancifully tied with ribands, their hats decorated with greens, and clubs in their hands, were seen advancing up the avenue, followed by a large number of villagers and peasantry. They stopped before the hall door, where the music struck up a peculiar air, and the lads performed a curious and intricate dance, advancing, retreating, and striking their clubs together, keeping exact time to the music; while one, whimsically crowned with a fox's skin, the tail of which flaunted down his back, kept capering round the skirts of the dance, and rattling a Christmas-box with many antic gestures. The squire eyed this fanciful exhibition with great interest and delight, and gave me a full account of its origin, which he traced up to the time when the Romans held possession of the island, plainly proving that this was a lineal descendant of the sworddance of the ancients.

After the dance was concluded, the whole party was entertained with brawn and beef, and stout home-brewed. The whole house, indeed, seemed abandoned to merriment; as I passed to my room to dress for dinner, I heard the sound of music in a small court, and looking through a window that commanded it, I perceived a band of wandering musicians with pandean pipes and tambourine; a pretty coquettish housemaid was dancing a jig with a smart country lad, while several of the other servants were looking on. In the midst of their sport, the girl caught a glimpse of my face at the window, and colouring up ran off with an air of roguish affected confusion.

WASHINGTON IRVING.

CHRISTMAS MERRIMENT.

The dinner was served up in the great hall, where the squire always held his Christmas banquet. A

blazing crackling fire of logs had been heaped on to warm the spacious apartment, and the flame went sparkling and wreathing up the wide-mouthed chimney. The great picture of the crusader and his white horse had been profusely decorated with greens for the occasion; and holly and ivy had likewise been wreathed round the helmet and weapon on the opposite wall. A side-board was set out just under this chivalric trophy, on which was a display of plate that might have vied at least in variety-with Belshazzar's parade of the vessels of the temple. "Flaggons, cans, cups, beakers, goblets, basins, and covers;" the gorgeous utensils of good companionship that had gradually accumulated through many generations of jovial housekeepers. Before them stood

the two Yule candles, beaming like two stars of the first magnitude; other lights were distributed in branches, and the whole array glittered like a firmament of silver.

We were ushered into this banquetting scene with the sound of minstrelsy, the old harper being seated on a stool beside the fire-place, and twanging his instrument with a vast deal more power than melody. Never did Christmas board display a more goodly and gracious assemblage of countenances; those who were not handsome, were at least happy; and happiness is a rare improver of your hardfavoured visage.

The table was literally loaded with good cheer, and presented an epitome of country abundance, in this season of overflowing abundance. A distinguished post was allotted to "ancient sirloin," as mine host termed it, being, as he added, "the standard of old English hospitality, and a joint of goodly presence, and full of expectation." There were several dishes quaintly decorated, and which had evidently something traditional in their embellishments; but about which, as I did not like to appear over-curious, I asked no questions.

When the cloth was removed, the butler brought in a huge silver vessel of rare and curious workmanship, which he placed before the squire. Its appearance was hailed with acclamation; being the Wassail Bowl, so renowned in Christmas festivities. The contents had been prepared by the squire himself; this was a potation, indeed, that might well make the heart of a toper leap within him, being composed of the richest and raciest wines, highly spiced and sweetened, with roasted apples bobbing about the surface.

The old gentleman's whole countenance beamed with a serene look of indwelling delight, as he stirred this mighty bowl. Having raised it to his lips, with a hearty wish for a merry Christmas to all present, he sent it brimming round the board for every one to follow his example, according to the primitive style, pronouncing it "the ancient fountain of good feeling where all hearts met together."

There was much laughing and rallying as the honest emblem of Christmas joyfully circulated, and was kissed rather coyly by the ladies. When it reached Master Simon,