The probability is that the human custom of choosing mates about this time, is more ancient than the notion touching the pairing of birds, and that the latter is a mere fable, suggested by the former. Some commentator on Shakspeare has traced it back "to a pagan custom of the same kind during the Lupercalia feasts of Pan and Juno, celebrated in the month of February by the Romans. We are further told that, the anniversary of St. Valentine happening in this month, the pious promoters of Christianity placed this custom under his patronage in order to indicate the notion of its pagan origin." Unhappy St. Valentine! But we must remember that formerly there was something sweet and poetical in the choosing of mates. Now we are thrilled with tender emotions when poor Ophelia sings her "Good morrow to St. Valentine's-day." But somehow, romance dies out in our material age; and beautiful superstitions give place either to cold practical knowledge, or degenerate into farcical caricatures. What a difference between the rapturous and bashful exchange of vows pledged by the youth and maidens in good old times, before reading and writing came in fashion, and the celebrated Valentine composed by the younger Mr. Weller! The vulgarization of the custom has been gradual. Instead of the song-singing invitations to love, under cold windows, "All in the morning betime," lovers began, in the course of human progress, to indite gentle missives to their sweethearts, and to receive autograph replies. This improved method was eagerly adopted by all such as dared not give verbal utterance to their sweet passion, as well as by those who had private malice to vent, and sneaking insults to offer. Then arose the manufacture and merchandise of Valentines, which has of late become so important a branch of industry. From early in February until late in March, our toy shops and periodical and fancy "depots" appear to traffic mainly in these exceptionable articles. Their windows flame with the vulgar trash. On every corner "Valentines!" "Valentines!" stare us in the face. Some are very choice and costly; we see now and then one inlaid in a rich casket, and prized at twenty-five or even fifty dollars. Others are made of fine fancy paper, adorned with flowers in water colors, or prettily filigreed; with a scroll in the center for the verses expressive of the sender's sentiments. But the softer heads that indulge in these expensive trifles, are comparatively few. A cheaper luxury satisfies our economical sentimentalists. All kinds of coarsely ornamented note-paper, and large square awkward envelopes, find their ready patrons. Every taste is suited, from the sickliest fastidiousness, to the most clownish ambition for flashy colors and tawdry designs.