n；　who　was　deeply　ensconced　in　a　high…backed　oaken　chair；　the　work　of　some　cunning　artificer　of　yore；　which　had　been　brought　from　the　library　for　his　particular　accommodation。　　From　this　venerable　piece　of　furniture；　with　which　his　shadowy　figure　and　dark　weazen　face　so　admirably　accorded；　he　was　dealing　forth　strange　accounts　of　popular　superstitions　and　legends　of　the　surrounding　country；　with　which　he　had　become　acquainted　in　the　course　of　his　antiquarian　researches。　　I　am　half　inclined　to　think　that　the　old　gentleman　was　himself　somewhat　tinctured　with　superstition；　as　men　are　very　apt　to　be　who　live　a　recluse　and　studious　life　in　a　sequestered　part　of　the　country；　and　pore　over　black…letter　tracts；　so　often　filled　with　the　marvellous　and　supernatural。　　He　gave　us　several　anecdotes　of　the　fancies　of　the　neighbouring　peasantry；　concerning　the　effigy　of　the　crusader　which　lay　on　the　tomb　by　the　church　altar。　　As　it　was　the　only　monument　of　the　kind　in　that　part　of　the　country；　it　had　always　been　regarded　with　feelings　of　superstition　by　the　goodwives　of　the　village。　　It　was　said　to　get　up　from　the　tomb　and　walk　the　rounds　of　the　churchyard　in　stormy　nights；　particularly　when　it　thundered；　and　one　old　woman；　whose　cottage　bordered　on　the　churchyard；　had　seen　it；　through　the　windows　of　the　church；　when　the　moon　shone；　slowly　pacing　up　and　down　the　aisles。　　It　was　the　belief　that　some　wrong　had　been　left　unredressed　by　the　deceased；　or　some　treasure　hidden；　which　kept　the　spirit　in　a　state　of　trouble　and　restlessness。　　Some　talked　of　gold　and　jewels　buried　in　the　tomb；　over　which　the　spectre　kept　watch；　and　there　was　a　story　current　of　a　sexton　in　old　times　who　endeavoured　to　break　his　way　to　the　coffin　at　night；　but　just　as　he　reached　it；　received　a　violent　blow　from　the　marble　hand　of　the　effigy；　which　stretched　him　senseless　on　the　pavement。　　These　tales　were　often　laughed　at　by　some　of　the　sturdier　among　the　rustics；　yet　when　night　came　on；　there　were　many　of　the　stoutest　unbelievers　that　were　shy　of　venturing　alone　in　the　footpath　that　led　across　the　churchyard。　　From　these　and　other　anecdotes　that　followed；　the　crusader　appeared　to　be　the　favourite　hero　of　ghost　stories　throughout　the　vicinity。　　His　picture；　which　hung　up　in　the　hall；　was　thought　by　the　servants　to　have　something　supernatural　about　it；　for　they　remarked　that；　in　whatever　part　of　the　hall　you　went；　the　eyes　of　the　warrior　were　still　fixed　on　you。　The　old　porter's　wife；　too；　at　the　lodge；　who　had　been　born　and　brought　up　in　the　family；　and　was　a　great　gossip　among　the　maid　servants；　affirmed　that　in　her　young　days　she　had　often　heard　say　that　on　Midsummer　eve；　when　it　is　well　known　all　kinds　of　ghosts；　goblins；　and　fairies　become　visible　and　walk　abroad；　the　crusader　used　to　mount　his　horse；　come　down　from　his　picture；　ride　about　the　house；　down　the　avenue；　and　so　to　the　church　to　visit　the　tomb；　on　which　occasion　the　church　door　most　civilly　swung　open　of　itself：　not　that　he　needed　it；　for　he　rode　through　closed　gates　and　even　stone　walls；　and　had　been　seen　by　one　of　the　dairymaids　to　pass　between　two　bars　of　the　great　park　gate；　making　himself　as　thin　as　a　sheet　of　paper。
  All　these　superstitions；　I　found；　had　been　very　much　countenanced　by　the　Squire；　who；　though　not　superstitious　himself；　was　very　fond　of　seeing　others　so。　　He　listened　to　every　goblin　tale　of　the　neighbouring　gossips　with　infinite　gravity；　and　held　the　porter's　wife　in　high　favour　on　account　of　her　talent　for　the　marvellous。　He　was　himself　a　great　reader　of　old　legends　and　romances；　and　often　lamented　that　he　could　not　believe　in　them；　for　a　superstitious　person；　he　thought；　must　live　in　a　kind　of　fairyland。
  Whilst　we　were　all　attention　to　the　parson's　stories；　our　ears　were　suddenly　assailed　by　a　burst　of　heterogeneous　sounds　from　the　hall；　in　which　was　mingled　something　like　the　clang　of　rude　minstrelsy；　with　the　uproar　of　many　small　voices　and　girlish　laughter。　　The　door　suddenly　flew　open；　and　a　train　came　trooping　into　the　room；　that　might　almost　have　been　mistaken　for　the　breaking　up　of　the　court　of　Fairy。　　That　indefatigable　spirit；　Master　Simon；　in　the　faithful　discharge　of　his　duties　as　Lord　of　Misrule；　had　conceived　the　idea　of　a　Christmas　mummery；　or　masking；　and　having　called　in　to　his　assistance　the　Oxonian　and　the　young　officer；　who　were　equally　ripe　for　anything　that　should　occasion　romping　and　merriment；　they　had　carried　it　into　instant　effect。　　The　old　housekeeper　had　been　consulted；　the　antique　clothes…presses　and　wardrobes　rummaged　and　made　to　yield　up　the　relics　of　finery　that　had　not　seen　the　light　for　several　generations；　the　younger　part　of　the　company　had　been　privately　convened　from　the　parlour　and　hall；　and　the　whole　had　been　bedizened　out；　into　a　burlesque　imitation　of　an　antique　masque。*
  *　See　Note　J。
  Master　Simon　led　the　van；　as　〃Ancient　Christmas；〃　quaintly　apparelled　in　a　ruff；　a　short　cloak；　which　had　very　much　the　aspect　of　one　of　the　old　housekeeper's　petticoats；　and　a　hat　that　might　have　served　for　a　village　steeple；　and　must　indubitably　have　figured　in　the　days　of　the　Covenanters。　　From　under　this　his　nose　curved　boldly　forth；　flushed　with　a　frost…bitten　bloom；　that　seemed　the　very　trophy　of　a　December　blast。　　He　was　accompanied　by　the　blue…eyed　romp；　dished　up　as　〃Dame　Mince…Pie；〃　in　the　venerable　magnificence　of　faded　brocade；　long　stomacher；　peaked　hat；　and　high…heeled　shoes。　　The　young　officer　appeared　as　Robin　Hood；　in　a　sporting　dress　of　Kendal　green　and　a　foraging　cap　with　a　gold　tassel。　　The　costume；　to　be　sure；　did　not　bear　testimony　to　deep　research；　and　there　was　an　evident　eye　to　the　picturesque；　natural　to　a　young　gallant　in　the　presence　of　his　mistress。　　The　fair　Julia　hung　on　his　arm　in　a　pretty　rustic　dress；　as　〃Maid　Marian。〃　　The　rest　of　the　train　had　been　metamorphosed　in　various　ways；　the　girls　trussed　up　in　the　finery　of　the　ancient　belles　of　the　Bracebridge　line；　and　the　striplings　bewhiskered　with　burnt　cork；　and　gravely　clad　in　broad　skirts；　hanging　sleeves；　and　full…bottomed　wigs；　to　represent　the　characters　of　Roast　Beef；　Plum　Pudding；　and　other　worthies　celebrated　in　ancient　maskings。　　The　whole　was　under　the　control　of　the　Oxonian；　in　the　appropriate　character　of　Misrule；　and　I　observed　that　he　exercised　rather　a　mischievous　sway　with　his　wand　over　the　smaller　personages　of　the　pageant。
  The　irruption　of　this　motley　crew；　with　beat　of　drum；　according　to　ancient　custom；　was　the　consummation　of　uproar　and　merriment。　Master　Simon　covered　himself　with　glory　by　the　stateliness　with　which；　as　Ancient　Christmas；　he　walked　a　minuet　with　the　peerless；　though　giggling；　Dame　Mince…Pie。　　It　was　followed　by　a　dance　of　all　the　characters；　which；　from　its　medley　of　costumes；　seemed　as　though　the　old　family　portraits　had　skipped　down　from　their　frames　to　join　in　the　sport。　　Different　centuries　were　figuring　at　cross　hands　and　right　and　left；　the　dark　ages　were　cutting　pirouettes　and　rigadoons；　and　the　days　of　Queen　Bess　jigging　merrily　down　the　middle；　through　a　line　of　succeeding　generations。
  The　worthy　Squire　contemplated　these　fantastic　sports；　and　this　resurrection　of　his　old　wardrobe；　with　the　simple　relish　of　childish　delight。　　He　stood　chuckling　and　rubbing　his　hands；　and　scarcely　hearing　a　word　the　parson　said；　notwithstanding　that　the　latter　was　discoursing　most　authentically　on　the　ancient　and　stately　dance　at　the　Paon；　or　Peacock；　from　which　he　conceived　the　minuet　to　be　derived。*　　For　my　part；　I　was　in　a　continual　excitement；　from　the　varied　scenes　of　whim　and　innocent　gaiety　passing　before　me。　　It　was　inspiring　to　see　wild…eyed　frolic　and　warm…hearted　hospitality　breaking　out　from　among　the　chills　and　glooms　of　winter；　and　old　age　throwing　off　his　apathy；　and　catching　once　more　the　freshness　of　youthful　enjoyment。　　I　felt　also　an　interest　in　the　scene；　from　the　consideration　that　these　fleeting　customs　were　posting　fast　into　oblivion；　and　that　this　was；　perhaps；　the　only　family　in　England　in　which　the　whole　of　them　were　still　punctiliously　observed。　　There　was　a　quaintness；　too；　mingled　with　all　this　revelry　that　gave　it　a　peculiar　zest；　it　was　suited　to　the　time　and　place；　and　as　the　old　Manor　House　almost　reeled　with　mirth　and　wassail；　it　seemed　echoing　back　the　joviality　of　long…departed　years。
  *　See　Note　K。
  But　enough　of　Christmas　and　its　gambols；　it　is　time　for　me　to　pause　in　this　garrulity。　　Methinks　I　hear　the　questions　asked　by　my　graver　readers；　〃To　what　purpose　is　all　this？how　is　the　world　to　be　made　wiser　by　this　talk？〃　　Alas！　is　there　not　wisdom　enough　extant　for　the　instruction　of　the　world？　　And　if　not；　are　there　not　thousands　of　abler　pens　labouring　for　its　improvement？It　is　so　much　pleasanter　to　please　than　to　instructto　play　the　companion　rather　than　the　preceptor。
  What；　after　all；　is　the　mite　of　wisdom　that　I　could　throw　into　the　mass　of　knowledge？　or　how　am　I　sure　that　my　sagest　deductions　may　be　safe　guides　for　the　opinions　of　others？　　But　in　writing　to　amuse；　if　I　fail；　the　only　evil　is　my　own　disappointment。　　If；　however；　I　can　by　any　lucky　chance；　in　these　days　of　evil；　rub　out　one　wrinkle　from　the　brow　of　care；　or　beguile　the　heavy　heart　of　one　moment　of　sorrow；　if　I　can　now　and　then