The Sun.
London, England, 1868-12-18 00:00:00

CHRISTMAS NUMBERS.

Eighteen or twenty Christmas Holiday times
Charles Dickens has gladdened, by his graceful,
mirthful, kindly, romantic, humorous, eloquent
genius. First of all, by h7s immortal little book,
" The Christmas Carol." That he has never sur-
passed. He wrote it at the moment of his happiest
inspiration. He has never, we repeat, surpassed it.
It remains still the gladsomest, kindliest book that
ever was written apropos to Christmas. He followed
it up with four others of, we are almost tempted to
say, diminishing merit—but any one of which
would have made a new writer's reputation. " The
Chimes," the next in succession to the Carol, was
among these four, intrinsically the next best.
Afterwards came " The Cricket on the Hearth."
'Then " The Battle of Life." And, last of the
series, " The Haunted Man." The key-note was
struck. A whole chorus soon became audible of
yule-tide carollers or Christmas story-tellers ;
until—year by year, as the happy season came
round—there poured in upon us, in shoals, small
Christmas narratives, bound in all the colours of
the rainbow, red, green, yellow, blue, pink, purple,
illustrated, and in all other respects, saving only
in the genius latent among the leaves, a la Dickens.
Then there came a change. " Household Words"
—Mr. Dickens's first weekly serial—in the winter
of 1855, brought out a Christmas double number
of its own, followed by three others, during the
three succeeding Christmases. The notion
thus hit upon by the Conductor of " House-
hold Words," grew into an institution.
The nineteen volumes of that famous literary jour-
nal having in the course of time, that is, by the
close of 1858, run out to their completion—" All the
Year Round" made its appearance. Twenty volumes
of the latter have since then come out, and each
alternate volume has been supplemented, almost as
a matter of course, by the issuing, in a stitched
blueish-green double number, price fourpence, of a
collection of seasonable Christmas stories. Mr.
Dickens's idea here, as formerly, being caught up
by imitators without number, until there came to
be a sort of Christmas literature, never before
dreamt of, that is, never dreamt of until Charles
Dickens called it, years ago, into existence. At last
—this year in point of fact—the originator of it
all, got tired of the incessant mimicry of everything
he did in this way, and saddened us all for the mo-
ment by announcing that last year's was really the
last—was, with greater reason than was no doubt
originally intended, indeed, "No Thoroughfare."
Only for the moment, we say, this announcement
saddened us all. For, on reflection, it was impos-
sible not to recognise the reasonableness and judi-
ciousness of the great novelist's determination.
Happily, however, by way of consoling us in the
midst of our regrets at being thus suddenly left
without a Christmas Tale or a Christmas Double
Number by Dickens, there come to us, in a goodly,
green, gilt-edged volume, all bound up together,
the nine years'—
CHRISTMAS NUMBERS OF " ALL . THE YEAR
ROUND."--A wonderful collection of seasonable
stories worthy of preservation in any, the most
carefully selected, library of fiction, if only by
right of their including amongst them those great
originals, Mrs. Lirriper (not forgetting Major Jack-
man) and Doctor Marigold. A collection that is—
not a nine days, but a nine years' wonder, consist-
ing, as it does, of--(1859) The Haunted House—
(1860) A Message from the Sea—(lB6l) Tom

Tiddler's Ground—(lB62) Somebody's Luggage—
(lB63) Mrs. Lirriper's Lodgings—(lB64) Mrs.

Lirriper's Legacy—(lB6s) Dr. Marigold's Prescrip-
tions—(lB66) Mugby Junction—and (1867) No
Thoroughfare.
THE CHRISTMAS NUMBERS OF " HOUSEHOLD
WO RDS"—four in all—have simultaneously made
their appearance as an opportune supplementary
instalment of the issue, month by month, by
Messrs. Ward, Lock, and Tyler, of that cele-
brated periodical. They are—(lBss) The Holly
Tree Inn—(lBs6) The Wreck of the Golden Mary
—(1857) The Perils of Certain English Prisoners,
and (1858) A House To-Let. The heat of them
all being the first-mentioned, namely, " The Holly
Tree Inn," and this more especially by right of that
charming little child love story told by Boots—own
brother of Sam Weller—about Master Waliners
Junior, running off with Norah on the way to

Gretna Green.
THE CHRISTMAS NUMBER OF "LONDON SOCIETY"—
Is as light if not as appetizing as a tipsy cake, a trine,
or a syllabub. It is gorgeous in cover, profuse in
illustration, and full of merry conceits in the letter-
press. For the current season, i.e., the season of
plum puddings and mincepies, it serves its purpose.
It will be turned over and dogs-eared before it is
done with, but when done with at this first reading
will certainly not be treasured up afterwards, for its
contents are in the fullest meaning of the words,
fugitive pieces. lts pretensions, however, are small,
and therefore it serves its purpose—that being
simply to wile away a winter's evening with amus-
ing narratives.
THE CHRISTMAS NUMBER OF " CHAMBERS'S JOUR-
NAL"—CaIIed emphatically " Extra-ordinary"—is
worthy of its name as well as of its associations.
It has no extraneous adornment by way of attrac-
tion in the shape of either coloured or uncoloured
embellishments. It is as full as an egg is of meat,
however, of Christmas literary fare in the form of
romantic, pathetic, impressive, and laughter-moving
fiction. More than some of its gaudier contempo-
raries, however, it will secure to itself that best tri-
bute of all, an attentive reading : and, when read,
it will be found very well entitled to be bound up
with the half-yearly volume of the famous three-
halfpenny Edinburgh literary journal of which it is
the avowed supplement.
THE BELGRAVIA ANNUAL—Like the Belgravia
itself, Edited by Miss Bra,ddon—if weighed in the
balance (avoirdupois), if looked at in regard to the
bulk. of its letterpress, if examined with an eye
more particularly to the number and the merit of
its illustrations, and, above all, if considered in re-
spect to the popularity of its well-known contribu-
tors, must certainly be pronounced a marvel of
cheapness. A score of years ago the notion of such
an annual as this being ever issued at the price of
one shilling would have been scouted as something
utterly ridiculous. Here it is, however—not a no-
tion, but a fact. Tales of glamour—original—
varied—some of them the productions of true lite-
rary artists. The enterprise manifestly lavished
upon the Belgravia Annual deserves a recompense
which we can hardly doubt that it will, receive—
namely, a very extended circulation.
Goon CHEER—Being the Extra Number of "Good
Words"—owes much of its excellence as a literary
fare to that generous caterer for young and old, Dr.
Norman Macleod. White-breasted turkeys fes-
tooned with sausages, browned and bursting—sir-
loins of beef running out with gravy when cut—
culinary bombs of plum-pudding freckled with
candied peel and sultana raisins, and steaming and
reeking with deliciousness—will hardly be turned
to with more watering mouths by the youngsters
gathered about home tables during the Christmas
holidays and hollynights than will this plentiful
store of Good Cheer furnishei from the abundant
larder from which, month by month, young and old
respectively are receiving Goo). Words and Good
Words for the Young.
ONCE A YEAR—the Christmas number of Once a
Week—with the prettiest, daintiest cover pencilled by
Mat Morgan, would be thrice welcome, if for nothing
else, for an expfisite little dramatic sketch, breath-
ing intensely of love and home, of youth and age
simultaneously, a charming little picture drawn to
the life by the noble author of " The Caxtous." To
the examination of this small but perfect masterpiece
we commend all those true lovers of art, who in
their love of art have an eye especially to those
subtler touches of nature which are beyond all art,
and which, as the Poet-Dramatist has it, makes the
whole world kin. Mr. Dallas, it should be said, is
the editor of Once a Fear as he is also of Once a
Week, in regard to which latter publication the
former is as the Mistletoe is to the Oak.
Tom HOOD'S COMIC ANNUAL-1S just what any
ono might have expected from the title of it, a
capital piece of Fun, by the Editor of that ilk,
widening the mouth of the reader on opening it,
and shaking his sides at each turn of the leaf. The
loyal staff of the merry wight who wears with so
much grotesque grace the bell-hung cap of our