*** Those who would be convinced of the profaneness of the Cameronians and Covenanters have only to read “Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence displayed, or the Folly of their teaching discovered from their Books, Sermons, and Prayers,” 1738,--a volume full of ludicrous impieties. We select one specimen. Mr. William Vetch, preaching at Linton, in Tiviotdale, said, “Our Bishops thought they were very secure this long time. “Like Willie Willie Wastel, I am in my castel. All the dogs in the town Dare nor ding me down. “Yea, but there is a doggie in Heaven that has dung them all down.” Deep was the gloom of those dismal days! The kitchens were cool; the spits motionless. * The green holly and the mystic mistletoe ** were blooming abominations. The once rosy cheeks of John Bull looked as lean as a Shrove-Tuesday pancake, and every rib like the tooth of a saw. * “The Lamentable Complaints of Nick Froth the Tapster, and Ruleroast the Cook,” 4to. 1641. * The magical properties of the mistletoe are mentioned both by Virgil and Ovid; and Apuleius has preserved some verses of the poet Lelius, in which he mentions the mistletoe as one of the things necessary to make a magician. In the dark ages a similar belief prevailed, and even to the present day the peasants of Holstein, and some other countries, call the mistletoe the “Spectre's Wand,” from a supposition that holding a branch of mistletoe in the hand will not only enable a man to see ghosts, but to force them to speak to him! The mistletoe is peculiar to Christmas. Rampant were those times, when crop-ear'd Jack Presbyter was as blythe as shepherd at a wake. * Down tumbled the Maypoles **--no more music * “We'll break the windows which the whore Of Babylon hath planted, And when the Popish saints are down, Then Burges shall be sainted; We'll burn the fathers' learned books, And make the schoolmen flee; We'll down with all that smells of wit, And hey, then, up go we!” ** The downfall of May-games, 4to. 1660. By Thomas Hall, the canting parson of King's-Norton.--Hear the caitiff, “There's not a knave in all the town, Nor swearing courtier, nor base clown, Nor dancing lob, nor mincing quean, Nor popish clerk, be't priest or dean, Nor Knight debauch'd nor gentleman, That follows drab, or cup, or can, That will give thee a friendly look, If thou a May-pole canst not brook.”