The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-01-05 00:00:00

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SATURDAY, JANUARY sth, 1884.

A GREEN YULE.

Old superstitions die hard. Embalmed in the
memories of centuries age after age passes away,
and the belief that has seemed good enough for '
the fathers has seemed good enough for the
children, with consequence that many a theory, ,
shown by modErn research to be untenable upon .
any sound basis, lingers along in the popular
belief, and rears its head upon the least oppor-
tunity, as if eagar to assert that, in spite of science,
it continues to exist. One of these superstitions
we are called upon just now to combat, and it is
contained in the proverb which states "a green 1
Yule makes a fat churchyard." It is not always
desirable to attempt to destroy an old belief, '
even when that belief has been proved in the
fulness of knowledge to be unfounded; but it is
really somewhat in the nature of a human action
to try and dispel the particular theory just
quoted. Fortunately, as many of us believe, for
the generality of mankind in a country like ours.
English winters are in the main mild specimens
of the class; severe winters are exceptional, very
severe winters are phenomenal. Now, if the
belief that a "green yule" (which is but a fanci-
ful way of describing a mild winter) "makes a
fat churchyard" (which is an equally fanciful
way of describing a high death-rate) be well-
founded, this stat 4 of things, so far from deserv-
ing to be characterised as fortunate, would re-
quire a very different word to be applied to it.
But how stand the facts? A severe winter
increases the death-rate to an extraordinary
degree ; in a mild ft inter the rate is little more
than half so high. It is true that in this, as in i
so many other matters, it is possible to have too
much of what appears to be a good thing, and,
although disposing of one proverb, another, and
perhaps an older one, might be called to our ail.
"When the grass grows in Janiveer, it grows the
worse for all the yea," contains a substantial
modicum of truth; an extremely mild January
.is often the forerunner of a sharp February and
a more than umally blusrering March, and the
sight of growing grass is, therefore, not as
agreeable to the farmers in January as it is in
later months. But, it may be asked, why need
attention be so particularly drawn to the proverb
first quoted? Christmas and the New Year are
times of merriment and good cheer, and why
should they be immediately followed by ques-
tionings as to the relative mortality which
characterises mild and severe winters ? The
answer is, not that it is wished to follow the ex
ample of the ancient Egyptians, who presented
a mummy at their feasts, in order to intimate to
the assembled guests that, though there might
be high revelry for a moment, death was the end
which must certainly or ertake them. it is rather
sought—paradoxical as at first sight it mey
seem—to provide a more cheerful argument
than is commonly used in the conese of such a
winter as up to the present we have been favoured
with. Tne young and the strong, and perhaps
to these may be added the rich, naturally wish
that the season may be a severe one, for severity
adds to their enjoyment; but to the old and the
feeble and the poor such a winter is the bitterest
hardship. Skating and sleighing and snowbal-
ling may be sport to the former, but it is death
to the latter, When this is urged to those in
the earlier-mentioned category, the reply gener-
ally is, that the sharper the weather, the
healthier it is, and the old proverb first quoted
is brought triumphantly forward to prove that a
mild winter is not a blessing but a curse. It is
in the hope that some of those who have thus
argued, and who do thus argue, will reflect a
little before they again fly to a theory which is
fallacious, that these reasonings are urged. Not
only the very poor but the honest artisan suffer
grievously upon the setting in of a severe frost;
ann although a warm winter may be moist and
somewhat uncomfortable let these of us who are
wellhoused and easily circumstanced be ready
rather to forfeit some of our outdoor enjoyment
than that thousands of our poorer brethren
should suffer.