person chosen to represent our Lord was an old priest, "named M. Nicholas Neufchatel, of Touraine, curate of S. Victory of Metz, and who was very near expiring upon the cross, had he not been timely assisted. He was so enfeebled, that it was agreed another priest should be placed upon the cross the next day, to finish the representation of the person crucified, which was done; at the same time M. Nicholas undertook to perform the resurrection, which, being a less difficult task, he did admirably well. Another priest, whose name was M. John de Nicey, curate of Metrange, personated Judas, and had like to have been stifled while he hung upon the tree, for his neck slipped; this being at length luckily discovered, he was quickly cut down, and recovered." Again, at Milan, on the Feast of the Epiphany 1336, a public show on a vast scale was celebrated in honour of the day, and especially of the Magi, whose ashes were then claimed by the church of S. Eustigio. "Three men mounted on horseback, and dressed in purple garments, having their heads adorned with crowns, and bearing in their hands golden vases containing the mystic gifts, accompanied by a vast concourse of pages and attendants, some of whom led strange animals of rare descriptions, proceeded through the streets; while over their heads, and moving in advance with admirable skill, was seen the guiding star. Upon reaching the ancient columns which adorn the church of S. Lorenzo, they encountered King Herod, surrounded by the scribes and elders, who proceeded to demand the reason of their coming and the object of their journey; the information having been afforded, the procession resumed its course, and reached the church of S. Eustigio amidst the shouts and applause of the multitude. Here on the high altar was seen a magnificent presepio, with the ox and ass on either side, while by it sat the Blessed Virgin holding in her arms the infant Jesus, to whom, with all due reverence, the Magi paid honour and offered their gifts; which ceremony being performed, the three kings lay down to repose, and while asleep, an angel was seen to descend from heaven, who commanded them to return by the Porta Romana in lieu of retracing their way by the Strada S. Lorenzo; this order they accordingly obeyed, and thus the festival terminated, with great contentment to the vast multitude which had assembled to behold it."

It was very natural that the people should be thus anxious to represent the great mystery of any holy season, or the principal event in the life of the patron saint of their city, by some magnificent spectacle beyond the rites and ceremonies ordained by the Church; and as long as they were conducted with decorum, and confined within the bounds of propriety, doubtless

great benefit was effected in regard to the people at large; in themselves they were perfectly harmless, and they served both to amuse and instruct the masses. But the latter effect at least could hardly be produced, one would think, by witnessing that most extraordinary festival known under the title of the "Feast of Fools." This feast, the celebration of which was for a long series of years common throughout Europe, is considered by most authors who have written on the subject to have been a remnant of Paganism; they assume that the Pagan people, who had been accustomed to the celebration of the Saturnalia and other similar amusements, were unwilling, on becoming Christians, altogether to renounce their ancient and beloved amusements, and in consequence contrived to engraft upon the ceremonies of their adopted faith practices which subsequently developed themselves under this form. However, whatever its origin may have been, its celebration was of the most extraordinary kind. This festival commenced at Christmas and continued until the Epiphany; it was opened by the repeating of the same prayers as are usually said at the commencement of any sacred functions. Some Latin verses, alluding to the joyous occasion, were then repeated; and afterwards, amidst the noise of chants, uncouth addresses, shouts, and general uproar, the person destined to act the chief character, and who bore the flattering title of Pope or Bishop of the Fools, was chosen, consecrated to his ministry, and clad in archiepiscopal vestments. He was quickly surrounded by a crowd of attendants and followers; some dressed in various ecclesiastical garments, others in masquerade, and some were even habited in the female garb; they wore ridiculous headdresses, had their faces begrimed with dirt, and, in short, did their utmost to make their appearance monstrous and absurd. Surrounded by this mob, the mock archbishop appeared in public, and immediately proceeded to bestow his benediction upon the assembled crowd, while the grand-almoner, who stood by his side, recited in serio-comic language the nature and number of the indulgences his grace was pleased to bestow; among which a liver-complaint, the toothache, or the putrid tail of some dead animal, were perhaps the least objectionable. The scene of ribaldry did not terminate here; the choir of the church became the assembly-room of the laity, who, in place of psalms and hymns, sang songs that were any thing rather than of a religious character; some danced, others ate and drank, or even played at dice upon the altars; the people ran like madmen to and fro; and, in short, every possible excess seems to have been committed. Others, again, were meanwhile traversing the highways in carts filled with the most

abominable filth, with which they plentifully bespattered those whose evil fortune chanced to bring them within their reach. Remy, King of Naples and Sicily, was among the most ardent supporters of this festival, and not only contributed vast sums towards its expenses, but on many occasions himself bore a part in it. It was introduced into the Church at Constantinople in the tenth century, and speedily spread throughout the East, as it had already done through the West, many grave patriarchs shewing themselves anxious for its establishment among them. Nor was it confined to the churches of the secular clergy; those belonging to some of the religious orders of both sexes witnessed similar scenes. Among others may be quoted one which took place at Antibes about the year 1645, in the monastery of the Cordeliers on the Feast of the Holy Innocents. On this day neither the father-guardian nor any of the religious who had received the tonsure attended in the choir; their places were filled by the lay brethren and attendants of the convent, who chanted the office proper to the day in an absurd and ridiculous manner. They were clothed in the priestly garments turned inside out; the books they held either upside down, or with the back part towards them, and pretended to read by the aid of spectacles from which the glasses had been removed and a bit of orange-peel substituted in their place. Those who held the censers blew the dust into the faces of their neighbours, and covered their heads with ashes; and in this plight they neither celebrated Mass nor repeated prayers or hymns, but a confused murmur of meaningless words mixed with hideous cries, or the imitation of various animals, was alone heard.

Another feast of a somewhat similar kind was known by the title of the “Feast of Asses.” On this occasion an ass bearing a cope upon its back was conducted into the church amidst the discordant chanting of a hymn, each verse of which was followed by a refrain, the words of which were so chosen and modulated as to represent the braying of the animal; a function was then celebrated, between each division of which the ass was regaled with food and water, while every species of joke was practised by the bystanders, who indulged also in shouts and cries of every description. In Salisbury Cathedral may still be seen the monument to the boy-bishop who died from excessive laughter during the celebration of the festival in which he filled so prominent a position. On this festival, which took place on S. Nicholas' day, a child was selected to fill the office of bishop, who, with crosier and mitre, accompanied by juvenile prebendaries, preached a sermon and exercised all other functions of his office.

It would naturally be supposed that the effects produced on the minds of the people by a repetition of such exhibitions as these would have been irreverence and an utter contempt for holy things; but such does not appear to have been the case, at least no bad effects appeared at the time, though we are by no means so certain but that some of the phenomena of the popular mind during the Reformation may not justly be traced to this cause. At the time, however, as soon as the period appropriated for the celebration of these festivals had elapsed, the people returned with their former shew of reverence to religious rites, and seemed only to be refreshed, as it were, for renewed exertions. Indeed there have not been wanting learned theologians to maintain that such practices were in themselves useful, and promoted the service of religion, by relaxing the minds of the people, who would otherwise have become wearied and overstrained by an unbroken course of serious devotion. The Church, however, highly disapproved of this desecration of holy things, and loudly expressed her displeasure both at the Council held in Paris, in the thirteenth century, and on many subsequent occasions. As early as the year 1194 we find the Cardinal Peter, Legate in France, forbidding the celebration of these festivals in the cathedral church at Paris, under pain of excommunication; and like prohibitions, extending to other places, were repeatedly issued by many provincial councils in France, between the years 1198-1585. In the year 1444, the University of Paris issued a circular-letter, in which bitter lamentations are made of the desecration to which the churches were exposed by the celebration of these festivals, and loudly calling for their suppression. Nevertheless, so firm was the hold which they had obtained on the minds of the people, that many years elapsed before their abolition was effected.

There still remain, however, both in Italy and some other Catholic countries, many religious festivals peculiar to themselves, which, if they do not offer precisely the same amusements as in former times, yet at least give rest and refreshment both to mind and body, and break the dull monotony of neverceasing labour. It was so once in our own country also, "when bluff King Harry (would that his amusements had always been as harmless!) was wont to ride from Greenwich to the high ground of Shooter's Hill, with Queen Katherine his wife, accompanied by many lords and ladies, for the purpose of maying;'" and "when every man, except impediment, would walke into the sweete medowes and greene woods, there to rejoyce their spirits with the beauty and savour of sweete flowers." Now, alas! the smoky kitchen of the nearest public

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house too often takes the place of "the sweete medowes and greene woodes," and "the spirits are rejoyced" by bad beer and the smell of rank tobacco, instead of the "beauty and savour of sweete flowers." We cannot now inquire either into the causes of this evil, or into the nature of any remedy that might be supposed capable of palliating it; but that it is an evil, and one of no mean proportions, all thoughtful men will allow. Six days of unremitting toil, spent in the confined space and impure atmosphere of a manufactory, or under continual exposure to the heat and cold of our variable climate, require something more than a seventh day of mere bodily idleness, both for the moral and physical well-being of the people, as also for their contentment and happiness.

MADELEINE, THE ROSIÈRE.

CHAPTER I.

MADEMOISELLE LAGUNE, the shrew of the village of Nogent, and hostess of the Auberge à Bon Port, stood at the door thereof one fine May morning, surrounded by a crowd of gossips; her hands were in the very capacious pockets of her white apron, except when she raised them in energetic declamation; her voice was loud, her eyeballs starting, and her eyes, and those of all the listeners or commentators, were fixed on a girl of about fourteen sitting on a low stool at the door, and holding on her lap an infant of some four months old, whose little soft, smiling face, placidly calm in sleep, was upturned towards the day-god, who looked down laughing in beaming, ardent merriment on that slumbering child; and yet it was an orphan; poor little thing! An orphan of a few hours! It had a name, "Madeleine;" 'twas all it possessed; for its mother lay dead in a garret of that Auberge and its father? Why he too had gone to his silent grave; so all the gossips there standing said, on the report of that quiet girl of fourteen, who alone seemed to take any interest in the poor baby.

"And what's to become of that?" loudly inquired Mdlle Lagune, pointing downwards to the child. "This is the misfortune of having a house open to the public. I am sure if I had imagined such a result, that woman never should have entered beneath my roof."