Pontieva. _Ponthieva glandalom._
Dedicated to _St. Anysia_.
~December 31.~
_St. Sylvester_, Pope, A. D. 335. _St. Columba_, A. D. 258. _St.
Melania_, the younger, A. D. 439.
_St. Sylvester._
This saint, whose name is in the church of England calendar and the
almanacs, was pope Sylvester I. “He is said to have been the author of
several rites and ceremonies of the Romish church, as asylums, unctions,
palls, corporals, &c. He died in 334.”[438]
~New Year’s Eve.~
To end the old year merrily, and begin the new one well, and in
friendship, were popular objects in the celebration of this festival. It
was spent among our labouring ancestors in festivity and frolic by the
men; and the young women of the village carried from door to door, a
bowl of spiced ale, the wassail bowl, which they offered to the
inhabitants of every house they stopped at, singing rude congratulatory
verses, and hoping for small presents. Young men and women also
exchanged clothes, which was termed Mumming, or Disguising; and when
thus dressed in each other’s garments, they went from one neighbour’s
cottage to another, singing, dancing, and partaking of good cheer.[439]
* * * * *
The anticipated pleasure of the coming year, accompanied by regret at
parting with the present old year, is naturally expressed by a writer
already cited. “After Christmas-day comes the last day of the year; and
I confess I wish the bells would not ring so merrily on the next. I have
not become used enough to the loss of the old year to like so triumphant
a welcome to the new. I am certain of the pleasures I have had during
the twelvemonth: I have become used to the pains. In a few days,
especially by the help of Twelfth-night, I shall become reconciled to
the writing 6 instead of 5 in the date of the year. Then welcome new
hopes and new endeavours. But at the moment--at the _turn_--I hate to
bid adieu to my old acquaintance.”[440]
* * * * *
ELIA, in a delightful paper on the “Eve of New Year’s-day,” 1821, among
the other delightful essays of his volume, entitled “ELIA”--a little
book, whereof to say that it is of more gracious feeling and truer
beauty than any of our century, is poor praise--Elia says, “while that
turncoat bell, that just now mournfully chanted the obsequies of the
year departed, with changed notes lustily rings in a successor, let us
attune to its peal the song made on a like occasion, by hearty, cheerful
Mr. Cotton.” Turn, gentle reader, to the first page of the first sheet,
which this hand presented to you, and you will find the first two and
twenty lines of ELIA’S “song.” They tell us, that, of the two faces of
Janus,
----_that_ which this way looks is clear,
And smiles upon the New-born year.
These are the remaining verses.
He[441] looks too from a place so high,
The year lies open to his eye;
And all the moments open are
To the exact discoverer;
Yet more and more he smiles upon
The happy revolution.
Why should we then suspect or fear
The influences of a year,
So smiles upon us the first morn,
And speaks us good so soon as born?
Plague on’t! the last was ill enough,
This cannot but make better proof;
Or, at the worst, as we brush’d through
The last, why so we may this too;
And then the next in reason shou’d
Be superexcellently good;
For the worst ills (we daily see)
Have no more perpetuity,
Than the best fortunes that do fall;
Which also bring us wherewithal
Longer their being to support,
Than those do of the other sort;
And who has one good year in three,
And yet repines at destiny,
Appears ungrateful in the case,
And merits not the good he has.
Then let us welcome the new guest
With lusty brimmers of the best;
Mirth always should good fortune meet,
And render e’en disaster sweet:
And though the princess turn her back,
Let us but line ourselves with sack,
We better shall by far hold out,
Till the next year she face about.
ELIA, having trolled this song to the sound of “the merry, merry
bells,” breaks out:--
“How say you reader--do not these verses smack of the rough magnanimity
of the old English vein? Do they not fortify like a cordial; enlarging
the heart, and productive of sweet blood and generous spirits in the
concoction?--Another cup of the generous! and a merry New Year, and many
of them, to you all, my masters!”
The same to you, ELIA,--and “to you _all_ my masters!”--_Ladies!_ think
not yourselves neglected, who are chief among “my masters”--you are the
kindest, and therefore the most masterful, and most worshipful of “my
masters!”
* * * * *
Under the female form the ancients worshipped the Earth. They called her
“_Bona Dea_,” or the “Good Goddess,” by way of excellency, and that, for
the best reason in the world, because “there is no being that does men
more good.” In respect to her chastity, all men were forbidden to be
present at her worship; the high priest himself, in whose house it was
performed, and who was the chief minister in all others, not excepted.
Cicero imputed to Clodius as a crime that he had entered the sacred fane
in disguise, and by his presence polluted the mysteries of the Good
Goddess. The Roman ladies offered sacrifices to her through the wife of
the high priest, and virgins consecrated to the purpose.
The Earth, _Bona Dea_, or the “Good Goddess,” was represented under the
form of a matron with her right hand opened, as if tendering assistance
to the helpless, and holding a loaf in her left hand. She was also
venerated under the name of _Ops_, and other denominations, but with the
highest attributes; and when so designated, she was worshipped by men
and boys, as well as women and virgins; and priests ministered to her in
dances with brazen cymbals. These motions signified that the Earth only
imparted blessings upon being constantly moved; and as brass was
discovered before iron, the cymbals were composed of that metal to
indicate her antiquity. The worshippers seated themselves on the ground,
and the posture of devotion was bending forward, and touching the ground
with the right hand. On the head of the goddess was placed a crown of
towers, denoting strength, and that they were to be worn by those who
persevered.
* * * * *
To all “of the earth” not wholly “earthy,” the Earth seemed a fit
subject to picture under its ancient symbol; and, in a robe of arable
and foliage, set in a goodly frame of the celestial signs, with the
seasons “as they roll,” it will be offered as a _frontispiece_ to the
present volume, and accompany the title-page with the _indexes_ in the
next sheet.
* * * * *
It must have been obvious to every reader of the _Every-Day Book_, as it
has been to me, of which there have been several indications for some
time past, that the plan of the work could not be executed within the
year; and I am glad to find from numerous quarters that its continuance
is approved and even required. So far as it has proceeded I have done my
utmost to render it useful. My endeavours to render it agreeable may
occasion “close” readers to object, that it was more discursive than
they expected. I am afraid I can only answer that I cannot unmake my
making-up; and plead guilty to the fact, that, knowing the wants of
many, through my own deficiencies, I have tried to aid them in the way
that appeared most likely to effect the object, with the greater number
of those for whom the work was designed. Nor do I hesitate also to
acknowledge, that in gathering for others, I have in no small degree
been teaching myself. For it is of the nature of such an undertaking to
constrain him who executes it, to tasks of thought, and exercises of
judgment, unseen by those who are satisfied when they enjoy what is
before them, and care not by what ventures it was obtained. My chief
anxiety has been to provide a wholesome sufficiency for all, and not to
offer any thing that should be hurtful or objectionable. I hope I have
succeeded.
I respectfully desire to express my grateful sense of the extensive
favour wherein the conduct of the publication is held. And I part from
my readers on New Year’s-eve, with kind regards till we meet in the new
volume of the _Every-Day Book_ on New Year’s-day--to-morrow.
45, _Ludgate-hill_, 1825.