them bear well next season.

This salutation consists in throwing some of the cider about the roots of the tree, placing bits of the toast on the branches; and then forming themselves into a ring, they, like the bards of old, set up their voices and sing a song, which may be found in Brand's Popular Antiquities. In Hone's Every-Day Book, this custom is mentioned, but with some slight variation.

The wassail bowl, drunk on All Hallow E'en, Twelfth Day Eve, Christmas Eve, and on other festivals of the church, was compounded of ale, sugar, nutmeg, and roasted apples, which every person partook of; each taking out an apple with the spoon, and then drinking out of the bowl. Sometimes the roasted apples were bruised and mixed with milk or white wine instead of ale; and in some parts of the country apples were roasted on a string, till they dropped off into a bowl of spiced ale beneath, which was called Lamb's Wool. The reason of this name, which is common to all the compounds of apples and ale, is attributed by Vallancey to its being drunk on the 31st of October, All Hallow E'en; the first day of November being dedicated to the angel presiding over fruit, seeds, &c., and therefore named La Mas Ubhal; that is, the day of the apple-fruit: and this being pronounced lamosool, soon became corrupted by the English into lamb's wool. Apples were blessed by the priests on the 25th of July; and an especial form for this purpose is preserved in the manual of the church of Sarum.

The custom of bobbing for apples on All Hallow E'en, and on All Saints Day, which was formerly common over all England, and is still practised in some parts of Ireland, has lately been rendered familiar by M'Clise's masterly painting of the Sports of All Hallow E'en. A kind of hanging-beam, which was continually turning, was suspended from the roof of the room, and an apple placed at one end, and a lighted candle at the other. The parties having their hands tied behind them, and being to catch the apples with their mouths, frequently caught the candle instead. In Warwickshire, apples are tied to a string, and caught at in the same manner; but the lighted candle is omitted: and in the same county children roast apples on a string on Christmas Eve; the first who can catch an apple, when it drops from the string, getting it. In Scotland, apples are put into a tub of water, and then bobbed for with the mouth.

The Ash, according to heathen mythology, furnished the wood of which Cupid made his arrows, before he had learned to adopt the more fatal cypress. In the Scandinavian Edda, it is stated that the court of the gods is held under a mighty ash, the summit of which reaches the heavens, the branches overshadow the whole earth, and the roots penetrate to the infernal regions. An eagle rests on its summit, to observe everything that passes, to whom a squirrel constantly ascends to report those things which the exalted bird may have neglected to notice. Serpents are twined round the trunk; and from the roots there spring two limpid fountains, in one of which wisdom lies concealed, and in the other a knowledge of the things to come. Three virgins constantly attend on this tree, to sprinkle its leaves with water from the magic fountains; and this water, falling on the earth in the shape of dew, produces honey. Man, according to the Edda, was formed from the wood of this tree. Ancient writers of all nations state that the serpent entertains an extraordinary respect for the ash. Pliny says that if a serpent be placed near a fire, and both surrounded by ashen twigs, the serpent will sooner run into the fire than pass over the pieces of ash; and Dioscorides asserts that the juice of ash leaves, mixed with wine, is a cure for the bite of that reptile. Evelyn mentions that in some parts of England the country people believe that, if they split young ash trees, and make ruptured children pass through the cleft, it will cure them; and the Rev. W. T. Bree relates an instance, within his personal knowledge, of this extraordinary superstition having been lately practised in Warwickshire. Lightfoot says that,

in many parts of the Highlands of Scotland, at the birth of a child, the nurse or midwife puts one end of a green stick of this tree into the fire, and, while it is burning, gathering in a spoon the juice which oozes out at the other end, administers this as the first spoonful of food to the newly-born baby.

The Oak appears early to have been an object of worship among the Celts and ancient Britons. Under the form of this tree the Celts worshipped their god Tuet, and the Britons Tarnawa, their god of thunder. Baal, the Celtic god of fire, whose festival (that of Yule) was kept at Christmas, was also worshipped under the semblance of an oak. The Druids professed to maintain perpetual fire; and once every year all the fires belonging to the people were extinguished, and re-lighted from the sacred fire of their priests. This was the origin of the Yule log, with which, even so lately as the middle of last century, the Christmas fire, in some parts of the country, was always kindled; a fresh log being thrown on and lighted, but taken off before it was consumed, and reserved to kindle the Christmas fire of the following year. The Yule log was always of oak; and as the ancient Britons believed that it was essential for their hearth-fires to be renewed every year from the sacred fire of the Druids, so their descendants thought that some misfortune would befall them if any accident happened to the Yule log.

The worship of the Druids was generally performed under an oak, and a heap of stones or cairn was erected on which the sacred fire was kindled. Before the ceremony of gathering the mistletoe, the Druids fasted for several days, and offered sacrifices in wicker baskets or frames, which, however, were not of willow, but of oak twigs curiously interwoven, and were similar to that still carried by Jack-in-the-green on May-day, which, according to some, is a relic of Druidism. The well-known chorus of 'Hey, derry down,' according to Professor Burnet, was a Druidic chant, signifying literally, 'In a circle the oak move around.' Criminals were tried under an oak tree; the judge, with the jury, being seated under its shade, and the culprit placed in a circle made by the chief Druid's wand. The Saxons also held their national meetings under an oak; and the celebrated conference between the Saxons and the Britons, after the invasion of the former, was held under the oaks of Dartmoor.

The Mistletoe, particularly that which grows on the oak, was held in great veneration by the Britons. At the beginning of their year, the Druids went in solemn procession into the forests, and raised a grass altar at the foot of the finest oak, on which they inscribed the names of those gods which were considered as the most powerful. After this the chief Druid, clad in a white garment, ascended the tree, and cropped the mistletoe with a consecrated golden pruning-hook, the other Druids receiving it in a pure white cloth, which they held beneath the tree. The mistletoe was then dipped in water by the principal Druid, and distributed among the people, as a preservative against witchcraft and diseases. If any part of the plant touched the ground, it was considered to be the omen of some dreadful misfortune which was about to fall upon the land. The ceremony was always performed when the moon was six days old, and two white bulls were sacrificed at the conclusion. In Scandinavian mythology, Loke, the evil spirit, is said to have made the arrow with which he wounded Balder (Apollo), the son of Friga (Venus), of mistletoe branches. Balder was charmed against injury from everything which sprang from fire, earth, air, and water; but the mistletoe, springing from neither, was found to be fatal, and Balder was not restored to the world till by a general effort of the other gods. The magical properties of the mistletoe are mentioned both by Virgil and Ovid. In the dark ages a similar belief prevailed; and even to the present day the peasants of Holstein, and some other countries, call the mistletoe the spectre's wand,' from the supposition, that holding a branch of mistletoe will not only enable a man to see

ghosts, but to force them to speak to him. The custom of kissing under the mistletoe at Christmas has been handed down to us by our Saxon ancestors, who, on the restoration of Balder, dedicated the plant to their Venus (Friga), to place it entirely under her control, and to prevent it from being again used against her as an instrument of mischief. In the feudal ages, it was gathered with great solemnity on Christmas eve, and hung up in the great hall with loud shouts and rejoicing:

On Christmas eve the bells were rung;
On Christmas eve the mass was sung;
That only night in all the year
Saw the stoled priest the chalice near.
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen;
The hall was dressed with holly green:
Forth to the woods did merry men go,
To gather in the mistletoe.

Then opened wide the baron's hall
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all.

The Holly, like some other evergreens, has long been used at Christmas for ornamenting churches and dwelling-houses. It appears to have been first made use of for this purpose by the early Christians at Rome, and was probably adopted for decorating the churches at Christmas, because holly was used in the great festival of the Saturnalia, which occurred about that period. It was customary among the Romans to send boughs of holly, during the Saturnalia, as emblematical of good wishes, with the gifts they presented to their friends at that season; and the holly came thus to be considered as an emblem of peace and good-will. Whatever may have been the origin of the practice of decorating churches and houses with holly, it is of great antiquity. In England, perhaps, the earliest record of the custom is in a carol in praise of holly, written in the time of Henry VI., beginning with the stanza

Nay, ivy, nay, it shall not be, I wys;

Let holly hafe the maystry (mastery), as the maner is.
Holy stonde in the halle, fayre to behold;

Ivy stonde without the dore; she is ful sore a-cold.

In illustration of which it must be observed, that the ivy, being dedicated to Bacchus, was used as a vintner's sign in winter, and hung outside the door. The disciples of Zoroaster, the author of fire-worship, believed that the sun never shadows the holly tree; and the followers of that philosopher, who still remain in Persia and India, are said to throw water impregnated with holly bark in the face of a new-born child. In the language of flowers, the holly is the symbol of foresight and caution.

HOOD'S MAGAZINE-THE MAISON DE DEUIL. A NEW magazine, with Mr Thomas Hood for editor, cannot fail to attract, and, we should likewise think, to deserve attention. The first few numbers present a most agreeable melange of light literature, by the editor and his friends. We cannot avoid making particular reference to a poem of Mr Hood's, entitled 'The Haunted House,' which, for impressive description, exceeds everything of the kind which we have seen for a long time; confirming what must have been suggested to many minds besides our own, by the Dream of Eugene Aram, and some other serious productions of this author, that his comicalities are but the more trivial effusions of a mind which, if left free in the exertion of its powers, might rival some of our greatest masters in the regions of fancy and feeling. Unfortunately, the public calls most loudly for amusement, and Mr Hood is obliged to obey the call. Acting on the same consideration, we are constrained to prefer, to all more serious matters, a sample of drollery.

It is an extract from a piece in the form of a farce, entitled The House of Mourning,' in which the establishment of shops in London, exclusively for the sale

of mourning attire, is exposed to playful satire. A shop of this kind, painted black outside, after the fashion of a Parisian Maison de Deuil, attracts the attention of a country squire and his lady, and, influenced by curiosity, they forthwith enter the establishment. Ebony chairs being placed for their accommodation, they are addressed by a young man in black, who speaks across the counter with the solemn air and tone of a clergyman at a funeral.

"May I have the melancholy pleasure of serving you, madam?

Lady. I wish, sir, to look at some mourning. Shopman. Certainly, by all means. A relict, I presume? Lady. Yes; a widow, sir. A poor friend of mine who has lost her husband.

How

Shopm. Exactly so-for a deceased partner. deep would you choose to go, ma'am? Do you wish to be very poignant?

Lady. Why, I suppose crape and bombazine, unless they're gone out of fashion. But you had better show me some different sorts.

Shopm. Certainly, by all means. We have a very extensive assortment, whether for family, court, or complimentary mourning, including the last novelties from the continent.

Lady. Yes, I should like to see them.

Shopm. Certainly. Here is one, ma'am, just imported a widow's silk-watered, as you perceive, to match the sentiment. It is called the "Inconsolable;" and is very much in vogue in Paris for matrimonial bereavements.

Squire. Looks rather flimsy, though. Not likely to last long-eh, sir?

Shopm. A little slight, sir-rather a delicate texture. But mourning ought not to last for ever, sir.

Squire. No, it seldom does; especially the violent

sorts.

Lady. La! Jacob, do hold your tongue; what do you know about fashionable affliction? But never mind him, sir; it's only his way.

Shopm. Certainly, by all means. As to mourning, ma'am, there has been a great deal, a very great deal, indeed, this season, and several new fabrics have been introduced, to meet the demand for fashionable tribulation.

Lady. And all in the French style?

Shopm. Certainly-of course, ma'am. They excel in the funèbre. Here, for instance, is an article for the deeply afflicted. A black crape, expressly adapted to the profound style of mourning-makes up very sombre and interesting.

Lady. I daresay it does, sir.

Shopm. Would you allow me, ma'am, to cut off a dress?

Squire. You had better cut me off first. would prefer a velvet-ma'amShopm. Certainly, sir-by all means.

Or, if you

Lady. Is it proper, sir, to mourn in velvet? here is a very rich one-real Genoa-and a splendid Shopm. O quite!-certainly. Just coming in. Now, black. We call it the Luxury of Wo.

Lady. Very expensive, of course ?

Shopm. Only eighteen shillings a-yard, and a superb quality; in short, fit for the handsomest style of domestic calamity.

fine as it goes upwards in life? Squire. Whereby, I suppose, sorrow gets more super

Shopm. Certainly-yes, sir-by all means-at least, a finer texture. The mourning of poor people is very coarse-very-quite different from that of persons of quality. Canvass to crape, sir!

Lady. To be sure it is! And as to the change of dress, sir, I suppose you have a great variety of halfmourning?

and half, and quarter, and half-quarter mourning, shaded Shopm. O, infinite-the largest stock in town! Full, off, if I may say so, like an India-ink drawing, from a grief prononcé to the slightest nuance of regret.

Lady. Then, sir, please to let me see some half-mourning.

Shopm. Certainly. But the gentleman opposite superintends the Intermediate Sorrow Department.

Squire. What, the young fellow yonder in pepper-andsalt?

Shopm. Yes, sir; in the suit of gray. (Calls across.) Mr Dawe, show the Neutral Tints!

[The Squire and his Lady cross the shop and take seats vis-à-vis; Mr Dawe, who affects the pensive

rather than the solemn, Shopm. You wish to inspect some half mourning,

madam?

Lady. Yes-the newest patterns. Shopm. Precisely-in the second stage of distress. As such, ma'am, allow me to recommend this satin intended for grief when it has subsided-alleviated, you

see, ma'am, from a dead black to a dull lead colour!

Squire. As a black horse alleviates into a gray one, after he's clipped!

Shopm. Exactly so, sir. A Parisian novelty, ma'am. It's called "Settled Grief," and is very much worn by ladies of a certain age, who do not intend to embrace Hymen a second time.

Squire. Old women, mayhap, about seventy? Shopm. Exactly so, sir-or thereabouts. Not but what some ladies, ma'am, set in for sorrow much earlier; indeed, in the prime of life: and for such cases, it's very durable wear.

Lady. Yes; it feels very stout. Shopm. But perhaps, madam, that is too lugubre. Now, here is another-not exactly black, but shot with a warmish tint, to suit a wo moderated by time. have sold several pieces of it. That little nuance de rose in it-the French call it a gleam of comfort-is very

attractive.'

We

After a little more chat of this dolorous kind, the pair are shown into a back room, hung with black, and decorated with looking-glasses in black frames. show-woman in deep mourning is in attendance.

Show. Your melancholy pleasure, ma'am?

Lady. Widow's caps.

Squire. Humph!-that's plump, anyhow!
Show. This is the newest style, ma'am-

Lady. Bless me! for a widow? Isn't it rather

know, rather a little

Squire. Rather frisky in its frilligigs! Show. Not for the mode, ma'am.

A

Well, if it's all the same to you, ma'am, I'd rather die in the country, and be universally lamented, after the old fashion-for, as to London, what with the new French modes of mourning, and the "Try Warren" style of blacking the premises, it do seem to me that, before long, all sorrow will be sham Abram, and the House of Mourning a regular Farce !'

ORIGIN AND TREATMENT OF GLANDERS.

THE veterinary disease, glanders, when communicated to the human subject, produces sufferings of the direst kind, and is (in the present state of medicine) incurable. The utmost that can now be done by medical science with a regard to the disease, is to suggest measures of prevention; which are the more necessary, as at preand mode of propagation of the disease, which are exsent there are erroneous views respecting the origin tremely apt to cause the dreaded effects to take place. With a view to protect our fellow-creatures from a calamity of so dreadful a kind, we call the particular attention of all persons concerned in the management of stables, to the following authoritative statement on the subject in Dr Burgess's Manual of Diseases of the Skin :

'M. Hamont's researches go to prove that the old notion of glanders being always the result of damp, He narrow, and ill-ventilated stables, is erroneous. maintains-1. That the original causes of glanders do not exist in stables; 2. That the habitation exerts but a

very secondary influence towards their development; 3. That an insufficiency, or a bad quality of food, may excite both glanders and farcy in degenerated animals; and, lastly, that they never appear spontaneously in the matter of a glandered sore may produce farcy, and that blood-horse when well fed and well taken care of. of a farcy-bred may produce glanders-a convincing proof of the identity of these diseases.

The

Affliction is very much modernised, and admits more goût than formerly. Some ladies, indeed, for their morning grief wear rather a plainer cap-but for evening sorrow, this is not at all too ornée. French taste has introduced very considerable alleviations-for example, the sympathiser— Squire. Where is he?

band.

Lady. Yes; a very great improvement, certainly. Show. Would you like to try it, ma'am?

as I have recommended in lepra, will be found most useful in allaying the pain of the ulcerated tumours, and in altering the vitality of the inflamed and enlarged

of work

afterwards.'

AN ANECDOTE OF THE PENINSULAR WAR.

In the disastrous retreat which the British army made in Spain in December 1808, under the command of Sir John Moore, the army was passing a mountainous tract, when a soldier's wife, whose husband was supposed to have been killed on the field of Alkmaar, was observed struggling up a precipitous mountain-side during a violent snowstorm. She was driving an ass before her, with two panniers on its back, each containing a very young female child, which seemed little likely to survive the bitter cold to which it was exposed. The poor ass, exhausted with hunger and fatigue, and stumbling in consequence of its feet getting clogged with snow, was just about giving up, when an officer observed the great distress the woman was in, went up to her, and clearing the ass's feet of the frozen snow with his knife, handed it a small quantity of hay

from the forage wagons, which it devoured greedily. From the great confusion which prevailed at the time, he was unable to render the poor woman any farther assistance. He left her, with very little hope that she and her infant charges would outlive hardships under which hardy men were every day sinking. After this incident, the officer remained in the army for fifteen years, at the end of which time he retired to pass the remainder of his days in his native place, about thirty miles from Edinburgh. One day, as he walked along the street, a woman, whom at first he believed to be a stranger to him, came up, and seizing his hand, began to gaze scrutinisingly in his face. Tears gradually filled her eyes, but she was unable to utter a word for some minutes. At length she found voice to ask his name, and if he recollected rendering assistance to a soldier's wife, with two young children, during the retreat to Corunna. He replied in the affirmative, and she then told him that she was the person whom he had succoured on that occasion. She had often, she said, wished to see him again, that she might thank him for his humanity, which had been the immediate means of saving at least her two children from destruction. She had been able, she added, to get to her own country with her children in safety, and she now lived with them in this very place. In conclusion, the officer accompanied her to her house, where he found the two children transformed into two fully grown girls, able and willing to support their mother by their industry. His feelings on the occasion need not, it is presumed, be particularly described.

THE TAGUA NUT, OR VEGETABLE IVORY.

This article, which is coming into pretty general use for ornamental purposes, is the produce of a palm found on the banks of the Magdalena, in the republic of Columbia, South America. The Columbians call it Tagua, or Cabeza de Negro (Negro's head), in allusion, we presume, to the figure of the nut; and the term vegetable ivory is given to it by Europeans, from the close resemblance it bears, when polished, to the animal ivory of the elephant's tooth. Almost all we know about it is contained in the following memorandum by the Spanish botanists Ruiz and Pavon, who give the generic name of phytelephas, or elephant plant, distinguishing two species, the macrocarpa, or large fruited, and the microcarpa, or small fruited. The Indians cover their cottages with the leaves of this most beautiful palm. The fruit at first contains a clear insipid fluid, by which travellers allay their thirst; afterwards the same liquid becomes milky and sweet, and changes its taste by degrees as it acquires solidity, till at last it is almost as hard as ivory. The liquor contained in the young fruits becomes acid if they are cut from the tree and kept for some time. From the kernel the Indians fashion the knobs of walking-sticks, the reels of spindles, and little toys, which are whiter than ivory, and as hard, if they are not put under water; and if they are, they become white and hard again when dried. Bears devour the young fruit with avidity. According to the Gardeners' Chronicle, from which we derive the substance of our information, the part of the kernel which is similar to ivory is of the same nature as the meat of the cocoanut; this kernel becoming very hard in several palm-trees, such as the date, but not of sufficient size to be of value to the turner. The doum, or forking-palm of Thebes, the fruits of which are called ginger-bread nuts at Alexandria, has a similar albumen, which is turned into beads for rosaries; and that of the double cocoa-nut, or coco-de-mer, is also susceptible of a fine polish.

REASON AND AUTHORITY.

In reviewing the intellectual, moral, or religious progress of mankind at any period of their history, we find the varied forms of human opinion always bearing the impress of one of the two great sources from which they take their origin, and with it their peculiar features, and which we name generally reason and authority. Though each of these terms has been used with some diversity of meaning, yet we may adopt them in a general way, without fear of mistake, as convenient designations for two broadly-distinguished principles which share an influence over all human opinions and institutions, under whatever diversity of outward form, and the nature of which is best seen in contrasting their characteristic practical effects. It may indeed be true that either is seldom found in operation free from all admixture of the other, but we may still trace the peculiar effects of each even in their joint operation. The one always seeks to maintain a dominion of influence, the other disclaims all sway but that of argument; the former looks only to submission and confor

mity, the latter to conviction and sincerity; the one would enforce duty and subordination, the other is directed to enlightenment and freedom of opinion; the first adheres to an unvarying standard, the second is progressive; the former holds out the salutary and beneficial effects of its requisitions, the latter inquires into the grounds of them, and seeks facts and evidence; the one follows the ancient, the many, and the approved, the other cares not to stand out singly and renounce the most favourite prepossessions; the one clings to old associations and impressions of the past, the other looks to the brighter prospects of the future; the one seeks to repress excitement and innovation, the other lives in movement and progress; the one exclaims against the unknown dangers of change, and urges the safety of adherence to what is established, the other dreads the worse evils of lingering in stagnation, and contends that real security is to be found only in energetic advance. Throughout the history of human opinions, we cannot fail to recognise these two counterbalancing powers always in operation under one form or another-the one repressing, the other stimulating, the activity of the mind, whether for good or for evil. Either, in excess, has been productive of mischief; and each has in some degree acted as a check on the other, and a preservative against its abuse. But the tendency of each is clear, and we trace the influence of each in turn in all the marked epochs of the condition of the human race, as each has for a time acquired the ascendency.-British and Foreign Review.

BLACK SPOTS ON LEAVES.

The black spots observable on the leaves of the elm, plane, and many other trees in autumn, are accounted for by Mr Barham in the following ingenious manner :- I have examined these spots with some attention. They have certainly nothing to do with insect attacks, and are as little connected with changes taking place in the physiological functions of the tree. They are entirely, I believe, occasioned by the concentration of the rays of light passing through the globules of rain, or dew, which settle on, and remain attached for a time to the leaves; hence the black spot is formed on the upper surface of the leaf. These globules act the part of burning lenses, and the circular patch beneath them is scalded. Thus the leaves of cucumbers and melons, from a similar cause, are frequently blotched, and sometimes perforated.

FRENCH SAVINGS' BANKS.

At a recent sitting of the Academy of Sciences, M. C. Dupin read a statistical paper on the Savings' Banks of Paris, and of the different cities and towns of France, showing the constantly increasing amount of the deposits, and arguing against the fears entertained by some persons in regard to the difficulties which a sudden demand for repayment would present. He dwelt upon the just confidence which the people had in these institutions, and on the amount of good which they were calculated to produce among those who were sufficiently provident and self-dependent thus to preserve the surplus of their earnings. According to M. Dupin, the deposits in the Savings' Bank of Paris in January 1843 exceeded a hundred millions of francs.

NEW VOLCANO IN THE ADRIATIC.

The Gazetta di Milano announces that a new volcano was formed, about the middle of last September, in the mountainous island of Meleda, situated in the Adriatic, near Ragusa. During the night of the 14th, the crew of a Roman vessel, which happened to be in the neighbourhood, and had felt successive shocks for hours, saw lava issuing from the centre of the island, and flow over a space of about half a mile. The following night, while sailing in the neighbouring canal, about two miles from land, they observed that seven and were throwing out burning substances. The appearance craters had been formed in the mountains of the island, of this volcano has been considered as having an immediate relation to the very violent earthquakes which were felt at Ragusa on the evening of the 15th September, and extended to the islands of Curzola, Meleda, Scarpanto, and Khalki, the latter of which has been completely ruined. Published by W. and R. CHAMBERS, Edinburgh; and, with their permission, by W. S. ORR, Amen Corner, London.-Printed by W. and R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh.

G Complete sets of the Journal, First Series, in twelve volumes, and also odd numbers to complete sets, may be had from the publishers or their agents.-A stamped edition of the Journal is now issued, price 2¡d., to go free by post.