The most remarkable instance of the tenacity of superstitions is the survival of the practice of "bringing in the New Year." Not only does it exist among the poor and uneducated, but even amongst educated people at this festive season. It is considered an omen of misfortune if the first person who enters your house on New Year's morning has a fair complexion or light hair. This popular prejudice has never been satisfactorily accounted for, says the late Mr. Charles Hardwick, in his "Traditions and Superstitions." He says: "I can only suggest that it most probably arose from the fact that amongst the Keltic tribes, who were the earliest immigrants, dark hair prevailed. This dark characteristic still prevails amongst the Welsh, Cornish, and Irish of the present day. When these earlier races came in contact with the Danes and Norse as enemies, they found their mortal foes to possess fair skins and light hair. They consequently regarded the intrusion into their houses, at the commencement of the year, of one of the hated race, as a sinister omen. The true Kelt does not only resent, on New Year's Day, the red hair of the Dane, but the brown and flaxen locks of the German as well." An old writer, Oliver Matthew, of Shrewsbury, writing in the year 1616, at the age of 90 years, says it was the custom of the Danes to place one of their men to live in each homestead of the conquered race, and this was more resented than the tribute they had to pay. This affords another proof that these fair-haired men were the cause of this present superstition. It is also considered unlucky to allow anything to be taken out of the house on New Year's Day, before something had been brought in. The importation of the most insignificant article, even a piece of coal, or something in the nature of food, is sufficient to prevent this misfortune, which the contrary action would render inevitable. This sentiment is well expressed in the following rhyme:—

It would be rash to speculate how long superstitions of this kind will continue to walk hand in hand with religion; how long traditions from far-off heathen times will exercise this spell not only in our remote country places but in enlightened towns. In the realms of folk-lore, many were firm believers in witchcraft, in signs and omens, which things were dreaded with ignorant awe, while the romantic race of gipsies look upon occult influences from the inside, as a means of personal gain.

The prophetic character of the weather during this period is a superstition common to all the Aryan tribes. So strongly is this characteristic of the season felt in Lancashire at the present day, that many country people may be met with who habitually found their "forecast" on the appearances of the heavens on Old Christmas Day. The late Mr. T.T. Wilkinson relates a singular instance of this superstition, which shows the stubbornness of traditional lore, even when subjected to the power and influence of legislative enactments. He says: "The use of the old style in effect is not yet extinct in Lancashire. The writer knows an old man of Habergham, near Burnley, about 77 years of age, who always reckons the changes of the seasons in this manner. He alleges the practice of his father and grandfather in support of his method, and states with much confidence that 'Perliment didn't change t' seasons wen they chang'd day o't' month.'" A work named "The Shepherd's Kalender," published in 1709, soberly informs us that "if New Year's Day in the morning opens with dusky red clouds, it denotes strife and debates among great ones, and many robberies to happen that year."

The Helm Wind.

In the neighbourhood of Kirkoswald, on the Eden in Cumberland, a district prolific in Arthurian legends, it is said that a "peculiar wind called the 'Helm Wind,' sometimes blows with great fury in that part of the country. It is believed by some persons to be an electrical phenomenon." This fact may have some remote connection with the superstition under consideration. Sir Walter Scott's version of the legend is as follows: "A daring horse jockey sold a black horse to a man of venerable and antique appearance, who appointed the remarkable hillock upon the Eildon Hills, called the Lucken Hare, as the place where at twelve o'clock at night he should receive the price. He came and his money was paid in ancient coin, and he was invited by his customer to view his residence. The trader in horses followed his guide in the deepest astonishment through several long ranges of stalls, in each of which a horse stood motionless, while an armed warrior lay equally still at the charger's feet. 'All these men,' said the Wizard in a whisper, 'will awaken at the battle of Sheriffmoor.' At the extremity of this extraordinary depÔt hung a sword and a horn, which the Prophet pointed out to the horse dealer, as containing the means of dissolving the spell. The man in confusion, took the horn and attempted to wind it. The horses instantly started in their stalls, stamped and shook their bridles; the men arose, and clashed their armour; and the mortal terrified at the tumult he had excited, dropped the horn from his hand. A voice like that of a giant, louder even than the tumult around, pronounced these words:

The mistletoe was supposed to protect the homestead from fire and other disaster, and, like other mysterious things, was believed to be potent in matters relating to courtship and matrimony. It is to this sentiment we owe the practice of kissing under the bush formed of holly and mistletoe during Christmas festivities. This matrimonial element in the mistletoe is artistically presented in the Scandinavian mythology. Freigga, the mother of Baldr, had rendered him invulnerable against all things formed out of the then presumed four elements, fire, air, earth, and water. The mistletoe was believed to grow from none of these elements. But she overlooked the one insignificant branch of the mistletoe, and it was by an arrow fashioned from it that the bright day-god Baldr, the Scandinavian counterpart of Apollo and Bel, was killed by the blind Hodr or Heldr. The gods, however, restored him to life, and dedicated the mistletoe to his mother, who is regarded as the counterpart of the classical Venus. Hence its importance in affairs of love and courtship. It is not improbable that the far-famed dart of Cupid may have some relation to the mistletoe arrow, to which the beautiful Baldr succumbed.

The medicinal qualities of the mistletoe tree were also in high repute. Its healing power was shared by the ash tree, which was the "Cloud tree" of the Norsemen. The ash (Norse "askr,") was the tree out of which the gods formed the first man, who was thence called Askr. The ash was among the Greeks, an image of the clouds, and the mother of men.

Other Christmas customs and superstitions are peculiar to Lancashire. The white thorn is supposed to possess supernatural power, and certain trees of this class, in Lancashire called Christmas thorns, are believed to blossom only on Old Christmas Day. Mr. Wilkinson says that in the neighbourhood of Burnley many people will yet travel a considerable distance "at midnight, in order to witness the blossoming." The Boar's Head yet forms a chief object amongst the dishes of Christmas festivities. Among the impersonations of natural phenomena, the wild boar represented the "ravages of the whirlwind that tore up the earth." In all mythologies the boar is the animal connected with storm and lightning. There yet exists a superstition prevalent in Lancashire to the effect that pigs can "see the wind." Dr. Kuhm says that in Westphalia this superstition is a prevalent one. The tradition is at least three or four thousand years old. Lancashire has many stories of the pranks played by the wild boar or demon pig, removing the stones in the night on the occasion of the building of churches. Stories of this nature are to be found respecting Winwick, where a rude carving resembling a hog fastened to a block of stone, by a collar, is to be seen built into the tower of the present Church. Burnley and Rochdale Churches, and Samlesbury Church, near Preston, possess similar traditions.

All Celtic nations have been accustomed to the worship of the Sun. It was a custom that everywhere prevailed in ancient times to celebrate a feast at the Winter Solstice, by which men testified their joy at seeing this great luminary return again to this part of the heavens. This was the greatest solemnity of the year. They called it in many places "Yole," or "Yuul," from the word "Hiaul" and "Houl," which even at this day signifies sun in the language of Cornwall. "Heulo" in modern Welsh means to "shine as the Sun." And thus we may derive our word halo. Some writers, including the Venerable Bede, derive Yule from "hvoel," a wheel, meaning the return of the Sun's annual course after the Winter Solstice.