He was a complete
black-letter hunter, and would scarcely read a work printed in the
Roman character. The editions of Caxton and Wynkin de Worde were his
delight; and he was indefatigable in his researches after such old
English writers as have fallen into oblivion from their worthlessness.
In deference, perhaps, to the notions of Mr. Bracebridge, he had
made diligent investigations into the festive rites and holiday
customs of former times; and had been as zealous in the inquiry as
if he had been a boon companion; but it was merely with that
plodding spirit with which men of adust temperament follow up any
track of study, merely because it is denominated learning; indifferent
to its intrinsic nature, whether it be the illustration of the wisdom,
or of the ribaldry and obscenity of antiquity. He had pored over these
old volumes so intensely, that they seemed to have been reflected in
his countenance; which, if the face be indeed an index of the mind,
might be compared to a title-page of black letter.
On reaching the church porch, we found the parson rebuking the
gray-headed sexton for having used mistletoe among the greens with
which the church was decorated. It was, he observed, an unholy
plant, profaned by having been used by the Druids in their mystic
ceremonies; and though it might be innocently employed in the
festive ornamenting of halls and kitchens, yet it had been deemed by
the Fathers of the Church as unhallowed, and totally unfit for
sacred purposes.
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