n, and the botanist, the associate and friend of the most
eminent men that graced the age in which he lived, and the historian
whose works have enriched the literature of the world, stands first in
the long list of names that are linked with the beauties of the vegetable
kingdom; a city that has sent forth a Lindley, a Hooker, and a Smith, to
be professors in the great world of science, as his followers, has cause,
indeed to honour the memory of him who sowed the first seeds in the
garden, that has reared such giants from its soil.

But there is yet another picture to be viewed of homely traffic; the
Christmas market-day, when the old place and people seem to be in the
zenith of their glory. Each poultry-stall overflowing with the turkeys,
geese, and fowls, that have not found an exit through the myriad avenues
opened for their flight to every province, town, and city in the land.
There they lie in state, sharing the sovereignty of the season, with
bright-gemmed holly boughs and pearly mistletoe, that deck and garnish
every pad, and stall, and bench, and lie heaped up in shining stacks of
magnitude that may well suggest to the young novice a question as to how
the slow-growing holly and rare parasite could have been found year after
year in such profusion. Country walks, holly-skirted lanes, and park
enclosures, may tell something of the one; and alas! for the poetry of
the Druids and the oaks, the apple orchards now claim almost the sole
honour of giving shelter to the other--the ancient deity of the woods;
they will scarce allow the king of the forest a partial share in the
tribute offerings to merry Christmas.

The bustling eve, when midnight surprises the scrambling teems of "Trotty
Vecks," gathering up the fragments left from rich folk's caterings, that
they too may have a savour of something more than the compliments of the
season; when the remnants of the bountiful display that has been hoarded
up for the highest bidders through the busy day, are auctioned off at the
buyer's own price, and fall thus perchance within the compass of the
weaver's earnings, then is the hour to see the spirit of peace and
good-will towards men stalking abroad, and lifting from men's hearts and
faces the load of weariness and veil of care, transmuting by his magic
touch the poor man's copper into gold, and giving to his little stores a
widow's cruise-like power to cheer and comfort happy living hearts. No
one who dwells in the old c