The English, from the great prevalence of rural habit throughoutevery class of society, have always been fond of those festivals andholidays which agreeably interrupt the stillness of country life;and they were, in former days, particularly observant of the religiousand social rites of Christmas. It is inspiring to read even the drydetails which some antiquaries have given of the quaint humors, theburlesque pageants, the complete abandonment to mirth andgood-fellowship, with which this festival was celebrated. It seemed tothrow open every door, and unlock every heart. It brought thepeasant and the peer together, and blended all ranks in one warmgenerous flow of joy and kindness. The old halls of castles andmanor-houses resounded with the harp and the Christmas carol, andtheir ample boards groaned under the weight of hospitality. Even thepoorest cottage welcomed the festive season with green decorationsof bay and holly- the cheerful fire glanced its rays through thelattice, inviting the passengers to raise the latch, and join thegossip knot huddled round the hearth, beguiling the long eveningwith legendary jokes and oft-told Christmas tales.
One of the least pleasing effects of modern refinement is thehavoc it has made among the hearty old holiday customs. It hascompletely taken off the sharp touchings and spirited reliefs of theseembellishments of life, and has worn down society into a more smoothand polished, but certainly a less characteristic surface. Many of thegames and ceremonials of Christmas have entirely disappeared, and,like the sherris sack of old Falstaff, are become matters ofspeculation and dispute among commentators. They flourished in timesfull of spirit and lustihood, when men enjoyed life roughly, butheartily and vigorously; times wild and picturesque, which havefurnished poetry with its richest materials, and the drama with itsmost attractive variety of characters and manners. The world hasbecome more worldly. There is more of dissipation, and less ofenjoyment. Pleasure has expanded into a broader, but a shallowerstream; and has forsaken many of those deep and quiet channels whereit flowed sweetly through the calm bosom of domestic life. Society hasacquired a more enlightened and elegant tone; but it has lost manyof its strong local peculiarities, its homebred feelings, its honestfireside delights. The traditionary customs of golden-heartedantiquity, its feudal hospitalities, and lordly wassailings, havepassed away with the baronial castles and stately manor-houses inwhich they were celebrated. They comported with the shadowy hall,the great oaken gallery, and the tapestried parlor, but are unfittedto the light showy saloons and gay drawing-rooms of the modern villa.
Shorn, however, as it is, of its ancient and festive honors,Christmas is still a period of delightful excitement in England. It isgratifying to see that home feeling completely aroused which holdsso powerful a place in every English bosom. The preparations making onevery side for the social board that is again to unite friends andkindred; the presents of good cheer passing and repassing, thosetokens of regard, and quickeners of kind feelings; the evergreensdistributed about houses and churches, emblems of peace andgladness; all these have the most pleasing effect in producing fondassociations, and kindling benevolent sympathies. Even the sound ofthe Waits, rude as may be their minstrelsy, breaks upon the midwatchesof a winter night with the effect of perfect harmony. As I have beenawakened by them in that still and solemn hour. "when deep sleepfalleth upon man," I have listened with a hushed delight, and,connecting them with the sacred and joyous occasion, have almostfancied them into another celestial choir, announcing peace andgood-will to mankind.
How delightfully the imagination, when wrought upon by these moralinfluences, turns every thing to melody and beauty! The very crowingof the cock, heard sometimes in the profound repose of the country,"telling the night watches to his feathery dames," was thought bythe common people to announce the approach of this sacred festival.
"Some say that ever 'gainst that season comesWherein our Savior's birth is celebrated,This bird of dawning singeth all night long;And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;The nights are wholesome- then no planets strike,No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm,So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."Amidst the general call to happiness, the bustle of the spirits, andstir of the affections, which prevail at this period, what bosom canremain insensible? It is, indeed, the season of regenerated feeling-the season for kindling, not merely the fire of hospitality in thehall, but the genial flame of charity in the heart.
The scene of early love again rises green to memory beyond thesterile waste of years; and the idea of home, fraught with thefragrance of home-dwelling joys, reanimates the drooping spirit; asthe Arabian breeze will sometimes waft the freshness of the distantfields to the weary pilgrim of the desert.
Stranger and sojourner as I am in the land- though for me nosocial hearth may blaze, no hospitable roof throw open its doors,nor the warm grasp of friendship welcome me at the threshold- yet Ifeel the influence of the season beaming into my soul from the happylooks of those around me. Surely happiness is reflective, like thelight of heaven; and every countenance, bright with smiles, andglowing with innocent enjoyment, is a mirror transmitting to othersthe rays of a supreme and ever-shining benevolence. He who can turnchurlishly away from contemplating the felicity of hisfellow-beings, and can sit down darkling and repining in hisloneliness when all around is joyful, may have his moments of strongexcitement and selfish gratification, but he wants the genial andsocial sympathies which constitute the charm of a merry Christmas.
THE END
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1819-20
