KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



SOMETHING "SEASONABLE." 

 ST. VAXENTINE'S DAY,— 1853. 



Soon as grey morn invests yon eastern hill, 

 What perturbations youthful bosoms fill ! 

 "What throbs ! what strange anxieties are known — 

 While "doubt" remains where Lovk shall fix hia 

 throne I 



It seems but as yesterday, that we sat 

 down to pen a few random thoughts on this 

 most interesting day ; and yet have very 

 nearly twelve months passed over our heads 

 since our expressed thoughts went forth to 

 the world.* So very quickly does the time 

 slip away when the mind is fully occupied ! 



The importance of St. Valentine's Day no 

 person attempts to dispute. Birds and 

 animals, lads and lasses, young people and 

 old people, rich and poor, gentle and simple, 

 — all seem to regard the day as an eventful 

 one in the Calendar. As for the poor post- 

 men — those shamefully ill-paid, but best of 

 men, their legs know little rest from 

 morning till night. So laden are they with 

 "heavy "messages of love, and borne down 

 by " pictures " of the wooed and the wooing ; 

 some very like — a whale ! 



A tolerable idea may be formed of the 

 extent of adoration lavished by the worship- 

 pers at the shrine of St. Valentine, on the 

 objects of their heart, when we state a little 

 statistical fact in connection with the 14th 

 day of last February. Up to five o'clock, 

 p.m., 200,000 letters over and above the 

 ordinary daily average, had passed through 

 the Post Office in St. Mar tin's-le- Grand. 

 This was for London alone ; and the net 

 profit was nearly £1,500. When we come to 

 calculate further the quantity of ink, paper, 

 wax, and pens used, and also the cost of the 

 "Devices," &c, we imagine the revenue 

 must feel grateful to the " good saint " for 

 his patronage. 



The " pairing of birds " is said to com- 

 mence on this day ; and many bird-fanciers 

 make their preparations in consequence. It 

 is not for us to debate upon the policy of 

 such a step, at a time like this ; at all events, 

 the birds are not allowed to have all the love 

 to themselves. The example they set, is 

 thought good enough to be followed by their 

 young masters and mistresses. Accordingly, 

 we find the day ushered in with an amount 

 of pleasing curiosity, and harmless excite- 

 ment, perfectly indescribable. Poor Kobin 

 says, in his Almanac for 1557, " Term is no 

 sooner out, than in comes Valentine, to trade 

 in sweethearts. Then the maids look out 

 sharp to have him for a Valentine (if pos- 

 sible) whom they could inwardly incline to 

 choose for a husband." He adds : — 



* See our article on " St. Valentine's Day" in 

 Volume 1, of Our Journal, page 97. 



" A glorious month indeed, maids, this is ! 

 It brings you scores and scores of kisses, 

 For always, when the sun comes there,* 

 Valentine's Day is drawing near ; 

 And both the men and maids incline 

 To choose them each a Valentine. 

 Should a man get the one he loves, 

 He gives her first a pair of gloves ; 

 And entre nous, to seal his bliss, 

 He crowns the favor with a kiss. 

 The kiss begets more love — and then 

 That love begets a kiss again ; 

 Until the man this trade doth catch, 

 And then he does propose the match. 

 The maid is " willing " tho' she's shy, 

 She gives her swain this soft reply : 

 "I'll not decide one thing or other 

 Until I first consult my mother ! " 

 When she says so, 'tis half a grant, 

 And may be taken for ' consent.' " 



Just so, good Robin. Only get the ear of 

 your " heart's idol " to listen to you. Your 

 words will quickly sink into her heart ; and 

 her " wish " will be her mother's " law." 

 Never go one step, say we, without the 

 consent of the mother. Her blessing is above 

 all. This is a remark by the way. 



We are inclined favorably towards the 

 little displays made on this memorable day, 

 inasmuch as they are for the most part purely 

 harmless. The ideas are, with a few excep- 

 tions, cut and dried. They are not the irre- 

 pressible bursts of passion, made by a heart 

 "full to o'erflowing." No! The "senti- 

 ments " are prepared in a garret by some 

 poor author, or disappointed suitor, perhaps ; 

 and disposed of by him to the printers of 

 these literary curiosities. They have then 

 to be wedded to certain symbolic designs, 

 and invested with a dignity meant to strike 

 deep into the heart. We will not attempt 

 to turn such poetical effusions into contempt. 

 Oh no ! Let them go forth with their speak- 

 ing voices ; led by rosy-faced Cupids, armed 

 with majestically-mischievous bows and 

 glittering arrows, and attended with the 

 flaming torches of Hymen — chariots of love, 

 crowned with roses, and drawn by sylphs, 

 flying ethereally towards the altar. 



There is a pretty considerable trade done in 

 these elaborated missives of love. No sooner 

 has the new year dawned upon us, than 

 " Valentines" greet us in multitudes, in nearly 

 every successive window of the shops of 

 London and the suburbs. How we do delight 

 in halting now and then, to fathom the hearts 

 of the many pretty, innocent faces, that we 

 behold gazing into those same shop windows ! 

 Nor will we affirm that we have not made a 

 viva voce observation more than once, that 

 has called forth a bewitching smile from the 

 rosy lips, parted by a row of ivory, which 

 belonged to the fair creature we have been 

 addressing. 



* The sun this month enters into " Pisces." 



