In furry pall yclad,
His brows enwreathed with holly never sere,
Old Christmas comes to close the wained year:
Bampfylde.
CHRISTMAS DAY.
25th December.
And now has arrived the great and important day itself which gives its title to the whole of this happy season, and the high and blessed work of man's redemption is begun. The pæan of universal rejoicing swells up on every side; and after those religious exercises which are the language that man's joy should take first, the day is one of brightened spirits and general congratulation. In no way can man better express his sense of its inestimable gift than by the condition of mind that receives gladly, and gives freely; than by mustering his worldly affections, that he may renew them in the spirit of the time. This is not the proper place to speak more minutely of the religious sentiments and services which belong to the season than we have already done. We may merely remark that the streets of the city and the thousand pathways of the country are crowded on this morning by rich and poor, young and old, coming in on all sides, gathering from all quarters, to hear the particulars of the "glad tidings" proclaimed; and each lofty cathedral and lowly village church sends up a voice to join the mighty chorus whose glad burthen is—"Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace, good will toward men."
Christmas Pudding.—Page 286.
From the religious duties of the day, we must turn at once to its secular observances; and these we will take in the order, with reference to the progress of its hours, in which they come, mingling the customs of modern times with those of the past in our pages, as, in many respects, we wish our readers would do in practice.
The plate then on the other side represents the earliest, and not the least important, of the worldly ceremonies of the day, the due observance thereof being essential to the due observance of that later ceremony which no man holds to be unimportant, least of all on Christmas Day, the dinner. But, "oh! Molly Dumpling! oh! thou cook!" if that clock of thine be right, thou art far behindhand with thy work! Thou shouldst have risen when thou wast disturbed by the Waits at three o'clock this morning! To have discharged thy duty faithfully, thou shouldst have consigned that huge pudding at least two hours earlier to the reeking caldron! We are informed by those who understand such matters, that a plum pudding of the ordinary size requires from ten to twelve hours boiling; so that a pudding calculated for the appetites of such a party as our artist has assembled further on, for its consumption, and due regard being had to the somewhat earlier hour than on days in general at which a Christmas dinner is commonly discussed, should have found its way into the boiler certainly before six o'clock. Molly evidently wants a word of advice from the ancient bellman:—