105 



No man, perhaps, has done more to effect this change, than 

 he, who of all modern writers would the most regret it — Sik 

 Walter Scott. — Great lover as he was of folk-lore, and the 

 traditions of the people, he was quite ignorant of the history, 

 and legendary lore of the Mistletoe. His spirited description of 

 Christmas-tide, in the introduction to the sixth Canto of Marmion, 

 ever hangs on the memory : — 



England was merry England, when 

 Old Christmas brought his sports again. 

 'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale ; 

 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale ; 

 A Christmas gambol oft would cheer 

 The poor man's heart through half the year. 



On Christmas eve the bells were rung ; 

 On Christmas eve the mass was sung. 



The damsel donn'd her kirtle sheen ; 

 The hall was dressed with holly green, 

 Eorth to the wood did merry men go 

 To gather in the Mistletoe." 



Had a single sprig of Mistletoe grown in the domain of 

 Abbotsford, we may safely say that the two last lines would never 

 have been written. Who can wonder that lesser writers should 

 foUow, year by year, with increasing devotedness, in the same 

 track. One of these productions it behoves me to notice for the 

 very name it bears, and the popularity it has gained, albeit, the 

 song of "The Mistletoe Botigh," does injustice to the plant itself; 

 is a modern-antique of a mild order; and worse than aU, owes its 

 renown and its interest, to an unacknowledged plagiarism ; 

 "The Mistletoe hung in the Castle haU, 

 The holly branch shone on the old oak wall, 

 The Baron's retainers were blythe and gay. 

 Keeping their Christmas holiday." 



The burden of the song — which has made most of us tremble with 

 horror — is the tale of Genevra, the bride, shut up in the old oak 

 chest, from Eogers' "Italy." 



In the Midland and Northen Counties the Mistletoe is very 

 rare, and it could not be expected that its traditions should be 



