that this custom dates with us from the festivals held by the ancient Gauls, who, on the first day of the year, were in the habit of presenting to each other branches of the misletoe, previously blessed by the Druids, while canticles and hymns were sung, each verse ending with the words, "Au gui l'an neuf!"-"The misletoe for the new year!" This at once explains the presents and songs on "New Year's Day." For fifteen days before the commencement of the new year, business of every kind, foreign to that of étrennes, is totally neglected in Paris. Shops, in the style of booths at fairs, are erected along the Boulevards, on the Pont-Neuf, and on the Place du Chatelet. Nothing can equal the bustle, the movement, that reigns in the streets. Every face wears a business-like aspect. The shopkeepers, not content with displaying their novelties within doors, encumber the footpaths outside their shops with glittering regiments of cavalry and infantry, drums, hobby-horses, ships, boats, dolls in every attire, from the duchess to the cauchoise with her high Normandy cap: huge tables groan under the weight of volumes of exquisitely bound "fairy tales," "moral tales," and all the long catalogue of " tales" written for the edification of youth. The bonbon shops present at this season a spectacle most gratifying to the taste, but most perplexing to the choice of the beholder. At length the wished-for day arrives. The inhabitants of Paris are awakened from their slumbers at the first peep of dawn by the roll of the drum, and bands of military music passing under their windows,-the drummers and musicians of the several regiments proceeding to pay their "devoirs " to their officers, and receive in exchange the usual "pour boire." You have scarcely time to draw aside your curtains and slip on a robe de chambre, when a gentle tap is heard at your door: you may depend upon its being that self-important, Argus-eyed, aye, and Argus-eared personage-that dealer in gossip and tittle-tattle-Madame la Concierge, the portress of the house. She comes with a countenance decked in smiles, to bring you your journal, and wish you the compliments of the "nouvelle année." Of course, so much politeness cannot be suffered to depart empty-handed. The door is scarcely closed upon her when another tap announces the postman, come to present his "Almanac " and his "civilités très humble." Then comes a succession of those polite persons, the carriers of newspapers, the watermen, the garçons of the butcher, baker, grocer, &c. &c. And woe to him who on this day bestows with a sparing hand: in such a case he may be certain that throughout the year his letters and messages will be neglected, his journal will have fallen into the mud, or be forgotten alto gether, and he will get from the grocer an extra allowance of heavy paper weighed with his sugar, and from the butcher twice as much rejouissance as falls to his lot. On "New Year's Day," the Parisian dons his holiday apparel, his countenance is radiant in smiles, the rich man becomes more generous, the poor man more grateful, those belonging to the serving classes more zealous. Each sallies forth to get or to give. The student, who has lived for the last couple of months on little better than bread and "potage," has expended his savings in "chocolate à la vanille," "pralines," diablotins," "marons glacés," which he presents in gilt bags, satin corbeilles, or boxes of painted glass. The author, to ensure himself a good reception, presents, bound in Russia or Morocco, gilt edged, lettered, &c. &c., the quintessence of his prodigious learning. The husband, who would fain have his cara sposa forget either his neglect or his ill-humour, or perhaps both, has provided himself with a parure, an India cachemire, or a desert service of Sèvres or Dresden china; while the wife herself, ever attentive to the comforts of her "lord and master," presents him with a delicious, warm, comfortable, well-lined and wadded robe de chambre, which she has taken " upon credit," but which at such a moment ensures her a free pardon for every act of extravagance she has been guilty of during the past year. : The first visits of the new year, those paid on "New Year's Day," are devoted to the various members of the visitant's own family, to those to whom he is under obligations, and to true friends, if he has the happiness to possess any such in this cold world of ours. Everybody knows Voltaire's definition of his three classes of friends. "I have," said the wit, "three descriptions of friends the friends that love me, the friends to whom I am indifferent, and the friends that hate me." Who but himself could have expressed in so few words the true character of his countrymen? The first visits, then, are devoted to friendship, the next to indifference, the latest to those that love us not: for, however they may appear rejoiced to see us-however they may fondle and caress us, still there is invariably a something that betrays the real feelings of the heart. At this period no one must be neglected: every visit, every card, must be conscientiously returned; in short, to adopt a contrary conduct with respect to acquaintances in Paris, is considered a crime little inferior to that of lèze majesté. The heavy bones which the butchers in Paris weigh with the meat, over and above what belongs to the joint, are called rejouissances. + What would the talented author of “ On Credit," say to the kind-hearted use made of such a means of acquiring a new year's gift, aye, and that too at the cost of the receiver? During the ten years that preceded the old French revolution, the fashionable étrennes amongst the higher classes of society consisted of various articles of the Sèvres porcelain. My readers may judge to what an extent this étrenne system was carried, when they hear that during the first fortnight of the month of January the small apartments of the Palace of Versailles were transformed into porcelain shops, the king not disdaining to take upon himself the office of" salesman," à prix fixe, on the occasion *. One of the most agreeable methods of distributing étrennes in a large family, is by lottery, a plan also much adopted in my young days. I was last year invited to the house of one of my oldest friends, and witnessed one of these lotteries. A large table in the saloon was covered with presents for all ages: every thing was numbered, and tickets corresponding to the numbers were thrown into a bag and well shaken; each person was then called by the youngest child of the family to draw a ticket. One may conceive the apropos of the prizes drawn by each and the laughter occasioned by a large doll falling to the lot of the grandpapa -a drum to grandmamma, a pair of pistols to a young lady, a polichinelle to the governess, a go-cart to the tutor, a fowling-piece and a case of mathematical instruments to two children in leading strings, and a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles to an infant in the cradle! In terminating my "New Year's Day in Paris," I shall, conformably to ancient custom, and in default of more "substantial étrennes," conclude by offering to my various readers the economical but sincere tribute of good wishes. To papas and mammas then, to grand-papas and grand-mammas, uncles, aunts, &c., I,wish health, as the first of blessings, and length of years to receive the lisping new year's compliment" of their fourth generation. 66 To my young and lovely countrywomen (for, readers, although a resident on the Continent for nearly the whole of my life, I am by birth an Englishman,) I wish success in all their speculations and as I hope many of them will change their state before the close of the year, I wish they may each and all draw prizes in the matrimonial lottery. : To my young friends of the nursery and school room, I wish that the sweets of life may be showered upon them in abundance. To the members of my own fraternity, I wish every enjoyment their desolate condition can afford, but I also wish their numbers may be greatly diminished during the present year. Lastly, to my "Publisher," should I find one willing to print the paper of a dotard, I wish prosperity in all his literary undertakings, and an increase of "subscribers." P. P. P. 66 ZION'S PILGRIM. BY THE AUTHOR OF A "MOTHER'S PRAYER." rest," who bear'st a Pilgrim's name- Thy love-thy wishes, still to claim, And tempt thy faultering steps to stray, Is it that thou art journeying on, With one from whom thou would'st not part; And thus affection's ties are drawn, Perhaps too closely, round thine heart? Still hasten on, for thou shalt be Perchance thy doubting heart is griev'd, A gift, in sorrow's hour received, Or dread'st thou death ?-0 thus to fear * Historical. BY MRS. COCKLE. Upon the lamented death of the Princess Amelia, her afflicted father, George the Third, ordered the present Mausoleum to be constructed; that Mausoleum which was to contain not the remains of the venerable monarch only, but those of his family who, preceding him, were destined first to repose there-offering to the reflecting mind the melancholy consideration of youth and loveliness-a nation's prayers and a nation's tearsproving no barrier to its awful entrance. The other coffins being opened, presented also the remains of unfortunate royalty, in the bodies of the children of Edward the Fourth and of his queen, the unhappy mother of the princes who were murdered in the Tower at the instigation of the usurper Gloucester. One was that of the Princess Mary, their fifth daughter; she was promised in marriage to the King of Denmark, but died at Greenwich before a marriage could be solemnised. She was, according to the historians of that day, buried at Windsor, in Wolsey's Chapel, in 1480. Her long silken tresses (of that golden colour which the poets of her time so frequently celebrated, but which seems lost to our own), appeared to have defied the power of the grave, and even to have preserved their bright glossy hue and softnesss of touch, with as much unimpaired beauty as when they were entwined with princely gems. She, too, had known the terrors of the Tower, the horror of its imprisoning walls, for she was with her mother when she took sanctuary there. She died in the reign of Henry the Seventh. The same grave contained the body of her brother, Prince George, who, when a child, was created Duke of Bedford, but died in infancy. His hair was evidently that of a baby, presenting also its distinctive characteristic. These interesting relics were in the possession of his present Majesty, and probably still are. They suggested, upon seeing them, the following STANZAS. In making this mausoleum, the workmen discovered in Wolsey's Chapel three coffins which circumstances induced them to open in order to discover what bodies they contained, as it was supposed, from such a resting-place being allotted to them, that they were those of no ordinary persons. One presented to the astonished beholders a body which appeared to have been preserved with great care-but it was a decapitated one. The features wore almost the appearance of life-sufficiently so to recognise in them those of the unfortunate monarch Charles the First. Sir Henry Halford, who was at Windsor at the time of this discovery, immediately perceived it was the head of that royal martyr, which looked as if still in existence. The veins had been injected with red wax, which, upon being exposed to the air, immediately liquefied; and a few starting drops of it falling on Sir Henry's hands, strengthened the delusion. The writer has some of the hair in her possession. The account was received by her from Sir H. Halford, at the period of the interesting discovery. Margaret shall now be Queen, and rule the King; Hubert De Burgh, the favourite of King Henry the Third, was the most renowned captain, the ablest statesman, and, although past the meridian of life, accounted still the handsomest man of the age in which he lived. The services he had performed for his country during the stormy period of the French invasion, especially his memorable defence of Dover, had won for him that meed of popularity which the English nation seldom fails of bestowing on her successful commanders, while, at least, the memory of their achievements is still fresh; and his distinguished talents, joined with the captivation of brilliant wit and winning manners, acquired for him the most unbounded influence over the mind of the youthful monarch. As Grand Justiciary of England, a now forgotten office, but in the early days of the Plantagenet dynasty a post equal, if not superior, in importance and dignity to that of Constable of France, Hubert De Burgh had attained to that perilous height of grandeur and power, beyond which it would be a difficult matter for a subject to advance. It was his mighty hand that supported, nay more, that swayed the sceptre in the puny grasp of his imbecile master. It was his decisive voice that pronounced the veto in the national council, from which neither bishop nor peer dared utter an appeal. This assumption of despotic power, together with his unbroken sunshine of prosperity, had long been viewed with invidious eyes by the ancient nobility of England, ever jealous of their senatorial rights; and at length their dissatisfaction began to shew itself-not openly, indeed, but in a variety of ways tending to diminish his credit with the nation at large. More than once the ever-discontented citizens of London were excited to present to the Sovereign protestations against the overweening influence of the haughty favourite, which, being disregarded, were followed by open tumults at various times, and on divers pretences; but the master-mind of the Justiciary was not only equal to the task of coping with such feeble opposition, but was sure to gather from each attempt of his enemies pretexts for further extension of the royal prerogative. The most insidious of the adverse party now thought proper to change their plan, and, relying on the well-known fickleness of the King's disposition, took every opportunity of representing to him his great need of a royal consort, in the persuasion that Henry would, in all probability, transfer to his wife the excess of regard which he at present lavished on his favourite; and, with still greater probability, they calculated that no Queen would tolerate the unbounded influence of the Grand Justiciary either in her husband's councils or affections. "A wife!" muttered the discontented favourite, when Henry first made known to him his ardent desire of possessing a helpmate for him-"a wife! aye, he shall have one, but it shall be one of my own choosing-it is not to every consort that the leading-strings of the royal baby may be safely confided. The Princess Margaret, sister to the King of Scots, is, if I mistake not, the woman for my purpose; but I must be fain to woo her for him myself, that I may ascertain how far she may be wrought upon to unite with me against the plots of priests and burghers, rabble and nobility, for, if firmly allied with her, I may defy them all.” Such were the projects with which Hubert De Burgh sought the court of Alexander the Second of Scotland-projects which his enemies were not slow in penetrating, nor slack in their endeavours to counteract at home, by instilling into the weak mind of Henry a thousand disadvantageous impressions of the bride which Hubert had selected for him. Hubert, meantime, was received at the Scottish court with a more distinguished welcome than if the Sovereign had come in person to the wooing; for the weakness and frivolity of Henry's character, together with the meanness of his personal appearance, could not have failed of producing sensations allied to contempt in every breast, and would have effectually operated to deprive him of the flattering demonstrations of respect and admiration which were spontaneously offered to his majestic representative. At the chase, in the tourney, and in the halls of state, where the beauty and chivalry of Scotland were assembled in the presence of the King and the Queen-mother, Hubert De Burgh distinguished himself by the ease, grace, and gallantry with which he performed every exercise of manly daring and courtly elegance; and it was universally agreed by the fairest dames of the Scottish court, and confirmed by the voice of the Queen herself, that the Grand Justiciary of England was the best rider, tilter, and dancer that had ever tried his prowess in their presence. The Princess Margaret alone was silent; but it was observed that her eye followed the stately figure of the ambassador of her future lord, as he crossed the tennis court below the open gallery in which she was seated by the side of her royal mother to witness the contest of skill between Prince David, the brother of the King of Scotland, and the accomplished ambassador of England. It was decided in favour of the Justiciary, who came, as usual, to receive the prize for which they had played, a chain of gold enriched with jewels, from the hand of the Lady Margaret. A deep blush overspread her fair cheek as the noble antagonist of her defeated brother, flushed with exercise, and the excitation of the hardfought game, knelt at her feet to claim the guerdon, which he did in those tones of insinuating softness so pleasing to woman's ear. Margaret was somewhat embarrassed in opening the jewelled clasp of the rich chain. Her eyes encountered the ardent glance of Hubert, and the chain fell from her hand. He raised it from the ground, and, not unseen by her, pressed the unconscious toy, which had so recently been honoured by her touch, to his lips, as with a profound obeisance he returned it to her, and, with a courtly grace which many a youthful gallant vainly strove in the privacy of his own chamber to imitate, bowed his lofty head to receive the investiture from her hand. The Queen-mother sighed, and wished the office had been deputed to her, secretly resolving, at the same time, to take a very early opportunity of visiting her daughter at the court of England. That evening the presence of the Princess Margaret was required in the council chamber, and the Archbishop of Glasgow, in a long and florid harangue, informed her of the purport of the mission from the English court, which Hubert de Burgh had officially declared to the King, her brother, in the morning. Though Margaret had more than once received intimations from the Queen, her mother, how nearly the matter touched herself, yet, as she listened, the colour forsook her cheek, her bosom was agitated by a visible tremor, and she sedulously employed herself in stripping, one by one, the feathers from the elegantly wrought mount of her jewelled fan, while the Archbishop set forth in pompous terms the advantages of the splendid destiny that awaited her. "Many English Princesses," he said, "had wedded Kings of Scotland; but Scotland had never yet had the honour of giving a Queen to England," and he hinted at the possibility of the two crowns being, at some future time, united in the person of a descendant of this singularly desirable marriage. |