Nursery Literature—The Power of Baptism—Confirmation—Popular Prayers—Weather Rhymes—School Superstitions—Barring out.

It must not be supposed that childhood has no special folk-lore of its own. It is, in fact, of a most varied kind, many of the old traditionary beliefs and practices associated with the nursery being relics of what the Scandinavian mothers taught their children in days of long ago. The familiar fairy-tales of our own childhood still form the nursery literature in most homes, and are of unusual interest as embodying not only the myths and legends of the ancient Aryan race, but their conceptions about the world around them. Thus, for instance, the well-known story of "Cinderella," like many others of the same character, such as "Jack[17] the Giant Killer," or "Beauty and the Beast," are to be found in almost all countries, and although the versions differ in some respects, yet they point to a common origin at a very remote period. Indeed, it is curious that there should still exist among the children of the nineteenth century an undying love for these survivals of Aryan literature, couched in such graceful and simple language that few modern compositions can be found to equal them. In reading, therefore, about the dwellers in Wonderland, the young mind is unconsciously taking in primitive notions about the workings of nature as seen in the succession of day and night, the changes of the seasons, and so on. In the story of "Cinderella," we have the ancient nature-myth of the sun and the dawn, representing the morning sun in the form of a fairy prince pursuing Cinderella, the dawn, to claim her for his bride, whilst the envious clouds, her sisters, and the moon, her stepmother, strive to keep her in the background. It would, however, take too long and require a book of itself to discuss the history and meaning of these fairy tales which so delight the childish fancy, and exercise such a wholesome influence, inculcating some of the noblest sentiments and loftiest teachings of the founders of our race. Referring then more particularly to the superstitions connected with childhood, we would, first of all, briefly speak of those relating to certain outward circumstances, which are believed to affect more or less the child\'s welfare in life.

Thus, it is a deep-rooted belief that a child never[18] thrives until after its baptism; and in cases of illness the clergyman is more often perhaps sent for by the poor from a belief in the physical virtue of the sacred rite itself, rather than from any actual conviction of its religious importance. Indeed, how much potency is supposed to reside in baptism may be gathered from the countless superstitions with which it is associated, the omission of this rite being attended more often than not with fatal results. Hence it is frequently performed as soon as possible after birth, one reason being, as we have already seen, that so long as the child remains unbaptised it is thought to be at the mercy of ill-disposed fairies, and subject to the influence of the evil eye. According to another popular fancy, not confined to our own country, should a child have the misfortune to die unchristened, it is doomed either to flit restlessly around its parents\' abode, or to wander about in deserted spots, daily repining over its hard and unenviable lot. In Germany, tradition says that such children are transformed into that delusive little meteor known as the will-o\'-the-wisp, and so ceaselessly hover between heaven and earth. On one occasion, we are told of a Dutch parson who, happening to go home to his village late one evening, fell in with no less than three of these fiery phenomena. Remembering them to be the souls of unbaptised children, he solemnly stretched out his hand and pronounced the words of baptism over them. Much, however, to his terrible consternation and surprise, in the twinkling of an eye a thousand or more of these apparitions[19] suddenly made their appearance—no doubt all equally anxious to be christened. The good man, runs the story, was so terribly frightened, that forgetting all his good intentions, he took to his heels and ran home as fast as his legs could take him. In Lusatia, where the same superstition prevails, the souls of these unhappy children, which hover about in the form of will-o\'-the-wisps, are said to be relieved from their unhappy wanderings so soon as any pious hand throws a handful of consecrated ground after them.

In Scotland, to make quite sure of baptism being altogether propitious, it was deemed highly important that the person entrusted with the care of the child should be known by common report to be lucky. She was generally provided with a piece of bread and cheese, which she presented to the first person she met as an offering from the infant. If the party readily accepted and partook of the proffered gift, it was undoubtedly a good omen; but if refused it was considered tantamount to wishing evil to the child. Hence the future destiny of the little one was often augured from this superstitious ceremony, which, by-the-by, is also practised in the West of England, but the events of its after-life only too often belied the weal and woe predicted for it. Again, it is thought highly necessary that the child should cry at its baptism, or else ill-luck will sooner or later overtake it, the idea being that, when the child screams and kicks, the evil spirit is in the act of quitting it; its silence, on the other hand, indicating that it is too good for this wicked world. An amusing little episode in illustration of[20] this curious superstition is related by Mrs. Latham, in the "Folk-lore Record:"—"I was lately present at a christening in Sussex, when a lady of the party, who was grandmother of the child, whispered in a voice of anxiety, \'The child never cried; why did not the nurse rouse it up?\' After we had left the church she said to her, \'O nurse, why did not you pinch baby?\' And when the baby\'s good behaviour was afterwards commented upon, she observed, with a very serious air, \'I wish that he had cried.\'" In the same county it is considered unlucky to divulge a child\'s intended name before its baptism; and the water sprinkled on its forehead at the font must on no account be wiped off. Whilst on the subject of baptism, we would just note that in former years peculiar curative properties were supposed to reside in water that had been used at this rite, and on this account it was employed for various disorders. It was also regarded in Scotland as a preservative against witchcraft; and eyes bathed in it were rendered for life incapable of seeing ghosts.

It may not be inappropriate to allude here to the superstitions relative to confirmation, following in due time, as this rite does, on baptism. In Norfolk, for instance, it is considered unlucky to be touched by the bishop\'s left hand; and in Devonshire, also, where a similar notion prevails, young people look upon his right hand as the lucky one, and should it not be their privilege to receive it, they leave the church much disappointed. In some of the northern counties, we are informed that the unfortunate recipients of the[21] left hand are doomed, then and there, to a life of single blessedness. This is not the only species of superstition belonging to confirmation, for instances are on record of persons who, although confirmed in their early life, have again presented themselves for confirmation in their old age, under a conviction that the bishop\'s blessing would cure them of some bodily ailment. It is related that, at one of the confirmations of the venerable Bishop Bathurst, an old woman was observed eagerly pressing forward to the church. A by-stander, somewhat amazed at her odd conduct, and struck with her aged appearance, inquired if she was going to be confirmed, and, being answered in the affirmative, expressed his astonishment that she should have procrastinated it to such an advanced time of life. The old woman, however, resented his reproof, replying "that it was not so; that she had already been bishopped seven times, and intended to be again, it was so good for her rheumatism!"

In some cases the prayers taught by the poor to their children are curious. Thus, a popular prayer, formerly in use, and not yet forgotten, is evidently a relic of Roman Catholic times, having been handed down from a period anterior to the Reformation. As the reader will see, the version below contains a distinct appeal to certain saints for their intercession with God on the child\'s behalf:—
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed I lie upon; Four corners to my bed, Four angels at its head,[22] One to watch, two to pray, And one to bear my soul away; God within and God without, Sweet Jesus Christ all round about; If I die before I wake, I pray to God my soul to take."

It has been pointed out that it is very singular that this prayer should have survived the great change which took place in religious opinion in the sixteenth century, and that it even still remains in use. There are many variations of it, and the following two distiches obtained from Lancashire are quaint, having been written, it has been thought, by the Puritans, in ridicule:—
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Hold the horse that I leap on. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Take a stick and lay upon."

A Lincolnshire clergyman, anxious to learn something of the nature of the prayers said by the children of the agricultural poor, visited some of their cottages a few years ago in the evening, and listened to the little ones as they said their prayers. The concluding portion, he tells us, was always intercession for relations, but the form it generally took was peculiar. In the first place, it was not, as is the case with the more educated classes, "Pray God bless father and mother," &c., but "Pray for father, pray for mother, pray for brothers and sisters," and so on. In certain cases, through carelessness and rapidity, the words had degenerated into "Pray father, pray mother," &c. There can be no doubt that originally the prayer was[23] this:—"Pray for father;" then a Pater noster, or an Ave Maria, or both, would be said; then "Pray for mother," &c. After the Reformation, as time went on, the constant repetition of the Pater and the use of the Ave Maria would gradually die out with the change of religious ideas, and thus the prayer would assume its present form, "Pray for father, pray for mother."

Referring, in the second place, to the superstitions of children, we find an immense number of curious rhymes on various subjects used by them throughout the country. While many of these have, no doubt, been taught them by nurserymaids, a great part, as Mr. Chambers has pointed out in his "Popular Rhymes of Scotland," may be thought to have taken their rise in the childish imagination during that familiar acquaintance with natural objects, which it is one of the most precious privileges of the young to enjoy in rural districts. Besides, too, we must not forget that children seem to have a peculiar love for all natural objects, often finding pleasure in looking at some wayside flower, or in watching the movements of some tiny insect, which in after-years do not bring them the same interest. The fact, indeed, that the young mind is a true admirer of nature in all probability accounts for many of those pleasing rhymes which constitute much of the child\'s folk-lore.

Some of the charms, for instance, used to influence the weather are curious, and it is worthy of note that these, in many cases, are not confined to childhood only, but are frequently found in the mouths of[24] our peasants. Thus the child\'s appeal to rain for its departure has become a general charm, and is familiar to most readers:—
"Rain, rain, go to Spain, Fair weather, come again."

Aubrey considers this rhyme of great antiquity, and says that "it is derived from the Gentiles." Often in summer-time, when a thunder-shower interrupts some out-door game, one may hear a chorus of young voices shouting—
"Rain, rain, go away, Come another summer\'s day."

Or, as other versions have it, "Come again on washing-day." The appearance of a rainbow is generally, too, the signal for various marks of dissatisfaction on the part of the young, who, besides entreating it to vanish as soon as possible, frequently try to charm it away. This they do by placing a couple of straws or twigs crossways on the ground, and so, to quote their phrase, "cross out the rainbow." Another way is to make a cross of two sticks, and to lay four pebbles on it, one at each end. Again, some of the rhymes relating to snow are highly quaint, the following being repeated when it makes its first appearance:—
"The men of the East Are picking their geese, And sending their feathers here away, here away."

When, however, boys wish the snow to go away, they sing:—
"Snow, snow, give over, The cow\'s in the clover."

[25]

Thunder, in the North of England, is called by children "Rattley-bags," and during a storm the boys are in the habit of singing:—
"Rowley, Rowley, Rattley-bags, Take the lasses and leave the lads."

There is a rhyme which is often repeated by the juvenile folks in the north and midland counties upon seeing the new moon, which, perhaps, may have an indirect allusion to its supposed lucky influence:—
"I see the moon and the moon sees me, God help the parson that baptised me!"—

containing, evidently, a congratulation upon their birth. Boys, too, have a curious saying respecting the reflection of the sun\'s beams upon a ceiling, which they term "Jack-a-dandy beating his wife with a stick of silver." If a mischievous boy, with a piece of looking-glass, throws the reflection into the eyes of a neighbour, the latter complains "he\'s throwing Jack-a-dandy in my eyes."

Passing on to other charm-rhymes connected with natural objects, there are a very numerous class relating to the animal creation. In evening-time, for instance, when the dew begins to fall, boys are fond of hunting the large black snails, on discovering which they exclaim:—
"Snail, snail, put out your horn, Or I\'ll kill your father and mother i\' th\' morn."

This charm, however, is not confined to our own country, but under a variety of forms is found on the Continent. In Scotland, too, children prognosticate[26] the coming weather from the movements of this little creature:—
"Snailie, snailie, shoot out your horn, And tell us if it will be a bonny day the morn."

School-life, again, has its customs and superstitions, many of which have been transmitted from generation to generation; and childhood, indeed, would seem quite incomplete without them. Thus, according to an odd notion universally accepted in days gone by, and still received with implicit faith, if the master\'s cane is carefully nicked at the upper end, and a hair inserted, it will, as soon as used, split immediately to the very tip. In school-games, the usual antipathy to odd numbers is found, and a child is easily persuaded to give away a marble to make the number even. A kind of divination, also, is still frequently employed by boys to settle matters of difficulty, such, for example, as who shall be the leaders in a game, the choice of partners, and other details which are deemed of equal importance. The mode of procedure is this:—A long stick is thrown into the air, and caught by one of the parties. Each one then grasps it hand over hand, and he who succeeds in getting the last hold is the successful party. Mr. Henderson says that an odd expression was formerly connected with the lending a knife among boys for the cutting up of a cake or other dainty, the borrowers being asked to give it back "laughing," i.e., with some of the good things it was used to cut.

Among the many old school customs, we may close[27] our present chapter by mentioning a popular one known as "barring out," upon which, it may be remembered, Miss Edgeworth has founded one of her instructive stories. The practice consisted in "barring out" the masters from the scene of their educational labours, the agents in this ceremony being the pupils of the school. It was an occasion of no small disorder—
"Not school-boys at a barring out, Raised ever such incessant rout."

Addison is reported to have been the leader of a barring out at the Lichfield Grammar School, and to have displayed on the occasion a spirit of disorderly daring very different to that timid modesty which so characterised his after-life. So much, then, for the folk-lore of childhood, a subject indeed full of interest, and possessing a worth far beyond the circle of its own immediate influence, inasmuch as even the simplest nursery jingle or puerile saying has often been found of help in proving the affinity of certain races, and has an ethnological value which the student of comparative philology would be slow to underrate in his task of research.