their doctrines so different from the notions that mankind had
previously adopted, that many of the most important terms have a
different signification from what the same Greek words bear in the
heathen authors. Indeed it is obvious that the common Greek language of
the day could not furnish accurate expressions for doctrines either
entirely new, or derived from the Mosaic law, and the writings of the
Jewish prophets. Hence the writers of the New Testament were obliged to
employ Greek words, whose meanings were determined rather by analogy,
than by their original derivation; and to combine them according to the
idioms of the Hebrew and Syriac languages, rather than by the natural
construction of Grecian phraseology.

“It is remarkable,” he continued, “that this circumstance is one which
some rash infidels have presumed to consider as inconsistent with the
idea of a divine interference in the promulgation of Christianity; and
yet on sober inquiry, it will be found materially to strengthen its
evidence. For if no phrase had been used which was not in conformity to
the purity of the Grecian tongue, we should lose one of the great marks
of authenticity in the New Testament--its peculiar language. You will
readily perceive that the Hebraisms and Syriasms by which it is
distinguished, and which could have proceeded only from men of Hebrew
origin, prove it to have been a production of the first century; for
after the death of the first Jewish converts to Christianity, we find
hardly any instance of Jews becoming preachers of the gospel: and as to
the Christian fathers, they were mostly ignorant of Hebrew. This
distinguishing mark is to be found in all the books of the New
Testament, in different degrees; nor have these idioms the appearance
of art or design, being exactly such as might be expected from persons
who used a language spoken, indeed, where they lived, but not the
dialect of their country.

“Obscurity, from this cause, more particularly applies to St. Paul’s
Epistles, because they were designed principally for the Jews. St. Paul,
indeed, was born at Tarsus, and his native language was therefore Greek;
but having been a very zealous Jew, it was natural that his language
should be tinctured by Hebraisms; and it is probable that had he studied
to avoid the air of a Celician Jew, in speaking or writing, his language
would not have been so well adapted to his purpose, and would have made
far less impression on the multitude.”

_11th._--I have made such a discovery! I long to tell you, Mamma, though
I dare say you have already guessed it. I have discovered that Mr.
Lumley is the very person whom my uncle met at the harvest home, and
whose history I wrote to you. But I never heard my uncle speak of him by
any other name than Fitzroy, which I now find is one of his Christian
names.

This evening we happened to be speaking of accomplishments, and Miss
Lumley said that she had none to boast of.--“I believe you know,” said
she, “that since we left Strath Morton, a place I shall never forget,
though I was then very young, we have been obliged to employ ourselves
in what was useful only; and, until very lately, to assist mamma even in
the menial work of the house. I do not feel ashamed to mention this,”
she added; “for it is really gratifying to think and speak of all that
my dear mamma was able to do; I only wish you could have witnessed the
cheerfulness that accompanied all her exertions.”

She described their little cottage as it was at first, and their way of
living; and then continued--“We were anxious to save mamma from some of
the drudgery there must be, even in the smallest family; and, though
often against her will, my sister and I shared, as much as children
could, in her laborious occupations.

“She and my father gave us the best of all knowledge, that of
religion--they taught us to feel well the weakness of our nature, and to
look up with trust to that Power, who gives assistance to the humble.
Their leisure was devoted to giving us solid instruction, to the
cultivation of our minds, and even to directing our taste to literature.

“If sometimes we amused ourselves with a pencil, or tried to sing one of
Mamma’s songs, she was delighted to encourage and assist us--and instead
of lamenting that we could not do more, it raised her spirits to see
even our childish attempts. Indeed, she has often said that the delight
of seeing us gay, open-hearted, and good, was all she wanted; and when
we danced merrily to our own singing, or made a scratchy drawing of a
tree, she used to reward us with one of her sweet encouraging smiles,
and would say, ‘Perseverance will do much; and as music and drawing are
useful accomplishments, when kept in their right places, your attempts
give me pleasure; but I value your cheerful dispositions, and grateful
hearts still more.’

“And indeed Mamma was right, for never were there happier creatures than
we have been, though enjoying but few of what are called comforts. Our
gardens, our forest plays, and the pains we took in watching the habits
of birds and insects, were our never-failing amusements; and we desired
no more, if we were but sure that Papa and Mamma were pleased with us.
To the constant visits of Mr. Benson, our good old clergyman, we are
indeed indebted for much of what we know; he speaks to us so kindly, and
he often reads with us, and removes our difficulties by his clear
explanations. He has always approved of our acquaintance with the
creeping and flying inhabitants of the forests, for he says, natural
history is not only a most entertaining occupation, but well suited to a
religious mind.”

_12th._--My aunt, in the course of the last week, frequently turned the
conversation on Mr. Lumley’s travels: and he told us many interesting
things that he had seen both in Italy and Portugal. First about the
vine. In one of the Minho vallies, not far from Oporto, the fields are
small, and surrounded by high oaks, chesnuts, and poplars; the ground is
artificially watered, and every tree supports a vine, which mounts to
the top, and hangs its clusters to the highest branches. In other
places, the vines are supported on rough trellises, so as to form shady
arched walks in summer. But neither of those methods is supposed to
produce as good fruit as when the vines are kept low; and as these are
planted in straight rows, corn and other vegetables are sown between
them. They are pruned down every year into the shape of a bush; and a
short time before and after they come into blossom, all superfluous
branches are removed, and some of the leaves are afterwards taken off to
expose the fruit to the sun. The ground is hoed before the leaves come
out in spring, and again before the flower comes. Rising grounds are
usually preferred for vine culture, and when they are very steep, the
earth is supported by dry walls, so as to convert the face of the hill
into a succession of narrow terraces, which prevent the heavy rains from
washing away the soil from the roots.

He then told us that when figs are gathered in that country, they are
thrown into a heap, in a building prepared for the purpose, and that a
syrup flows from them which is used for making brandy. They are then
spread to dry in the sun, and after some days, are pressed into small
baskets, made of the dwarf fan-palm, each basket containing 28 pounds
weight.

The carob tree is one of the most beautiful of European trees, according
to Mr. Lumley’s account; it attains a considerable height, and has a
wide shady top, with a graceful, evergreen foliage of small glossy
leaves. The wood is hard and red, and very useful; and the large pods of
seed when dry, make excellent fodder for cattle: this tree is also
called St. John’s bread.

But what made the greatest impression on me, was his description of a
forest of date palms, near the town of Elche in Valencia. The fruit
hanging on all sides, in large clusters of an orange colour, and the men
swinging on ropes to gather them, formed, he says, a very striking
scene. The trees were old and lofty; and their number was said to exceed
two hundred thousand. Many of them had their branches bound up to a
point, and covered with mats, by which process they became white; they
are then cut off and sent by ship-loads from Alicant, to various parts
of Italy, for the grand processions on Palm Sunday.

Mr. L. says, that the little chick pea forms a considerable part of the
food of the poor in Portugal; and even common lupines, when soaked in
running water to destroy their bitterness, are boiled, and sold in the
market-place, and the people eat them out of their pockets. They are
also used by the poor in Italy, but generally along with chesnuts, which
are bruised and made into a sort of cake.

In ascending the Apennines, Mr. Lumley came to a mountain village, of
very singular appearance; it gave him more the idea of a collection of
huts in some savage country; no streets, no gardens, no appearance of
cultivation, except a few great chesnut trees, that united their
branches over the miserable houses. The people have large flocks of
goats and sheep, whose milk supplies them with cheese, and whose wool is
spun by the women in winter, and manufactured into a kind of stuff.

Most of the inhabitants of the Apennines depend on chesnuts, pigeons,
bees, and milk, for their food; and like the natives of Auvergne, they
make all their own furniture and clothes. They earn, however, a good
deal by going every year to work, for the harvest season, in Lombardy
and Tuscany, and the money they gain there, they bring carefully home.

The summer pastures, for the cattle of the rich plains of Tuscany,
extend along the brow of the lower chain of the Apennine mountains,
where there are a few huts to shelter the wandering shepherds. Those
plains, he says, are scarcely habitable in hot weather, from the
pestilential effects of the _malaria_, which produces agues and fevers,
and which probably arises from the exhalations of the low stagnant
marshes. He also saw a vast number of goats; one flock consisted of
twelve hundred, and though apparently very wild, they come regularly to
their shepherds, twice a-day, to be milked, and are always rewarded with
a little salt.

He afterwards visited the vale of Arno, and travelled along the right
bank of that river, at the foot of the Apennines. He describes the
forests of chesnut trees, which appeared on the higher slopes of the
mountains, with their fresh and beautiful verdure, as forming a singular
contrast with the pale blue tint of the olive trees, which cover the
lower hills. The road was bordered on each side by pretty brick houses,
consisting of a single story, and separated from the road by a walled
terrace, on which are commonly placed stone vases, containing flowers or
orange trees, or aloes; and the house itself completely covered with
vines. At the doors, or seated on shady benches, were groups of young
female peasants, nicely dressed in white linen, with silk bodice, and
straw hats ornamented with flowers. They are constantly employed in
plaiting straw for the fine Florence or Leghorn hats; and they earn a
great deal of money, which they are permitted to lay by for their dower;
but out of this they pay a certain allowance to poor women, who do their
share of the farm work. He was assured that a crop of two acres would
supply straw sufficient for the whole manufacture of hats in Tuscany. It
is the stalk of beardless wheat, cut before it is quite ripe; and the
poverty of the soil, which is never manured, keeps it white.

Between Pisa and the sea, he passed through a forest of ilex. The leaves
of all these trees were bitten off at the same height--just twelve feet
from the ground; and, on inquiry, he found that they had been eaten by
camels. He soon after saw two hundred of these animals lying on the
sand, waiting to return into the wood as the day became hotter. He was
much amused by a group who rose up as he approached, and who, in
trotting off with their young, bounded and leaped about with a vivacity
which scarcely seemed to belong to their awkward-looking figure. It is
said that this Asiatic race of camels was brought into Italy, at the
time of the Crusades, by the Grand Prior of Pisa. Mr. L. says they do
most of the farm labour.

On this plain he saw also a herd of nearly two thousand cattle. The cows
are so wild and fierce, that it is impossible to milk them; and they
are killed by the torreadors with short lances, after a sort of hunt,
which affords great diversion to the country people. These Tartar
habits, he says, are very opposite to those of the vale of Arno, where
every thing has been brought to the extreme of art and civilization.

I have been so much interested in all these circumstances, that I have
sat up very late to write them for you; and though I have not got
through half of them, I will now go to bed like a good girl. One word
more: I must add that the shepherds in the neighbourhood of Rome, who
resemble Tartars, with their long pikes and wrapped in mantles, come
every evening with their flocks to seek an asylum within the walls of
the city; as they dare not sleep exposed to the noxious air of the
adjoining country, where there are no cottages, and where the water even
is infected. They take possession of houses and palaces which have been
abandoned by the inhabitants, who have been driven into the interior of
the city by the malaria.

_13th._--To-morrow is the last day of the visit of these charming
Lumleys. I shall be very sorry to lose them, for I have liked them
better every day. The second has the sweetest voice that can be, and
joined in some of our glees, which she easily learned. Once or twice
they sang all together for us, in the way they do at home; and, among
other things, a beautiful little hymn, which we discovered was written
by Mrs. L. If I can, I will send it to you and Marianne; and, perhaps,
some time or other, we three may also sing it together. Oh! when will
that time come?

Even now that I know their history, it is difficult to perceive in their
appearance and manners that they have lived in such complete retirement,
for they always express themselves in good language; and, though timid,
they are not in the least awkward. Whatever they do, they do well. They
are excellent arithmeticians, and answered some puzzling questions of my
uncle’s with a facility that surprised him. The power of calculating in
the head he thinks highly useful; and, on this occasion, he encouraged
me to try with the rest, by shewing me how to seize upon the leading
points of a question. At first I made no attempt, but spent the time,
that others were at work, in thinking that I had no chance of success.
Having at last, however, recovered from this silly fit, I exerted
myself, and actually gave the first answers to the three following
questions: though I will not say that some of the party did not
good-naturedly wait a little for me. I send them to Marianne, though I
know they will appear trifling to her, for she was always quicker at
arithmetic than I was; but tell her the great thing is, to do them in
her head.

How much time, in the course of thirty years, does a person gain, who
rises at six o’clock in the morning, over another who sleeps till nine;
supposing that the former goes to bed at eleven, and the latter at
midnight?

There is a cistern in this house, which contains 180 gallons of water:
it is supplied by a feeding pipe, which admits 15 gallons in ten
minutes; and the tap, or discharging pipe, lets off 12 gallons in six
minutes. Now suppose, when the cistern was exactly half full, that both
cocks were opened, and that, at the end of an hour afterwards, the
tap-cock was shut: in what time will the cistern be filled?

Herodotus mentions a brass vessel, that was shown in Scythia in his
time, which was six digits in thickness, and contained 600 _amphoræ_, or
about 4300 gallons. It had been made of arrow points, collected by the
king from his subjects, in order to ascertain their number--each
individual being obliged to bring one. Such a vessel would be 11 or 12
feet in diameter; and, from the thickness of the metal, must have
weighed about 71,000 pounds troy. Now, if each arrow point was half an
ounce, the question is--Of how many fighting men could the Scythian
monarch boast? for it is not probable that the women and children were
included in that kind of warlike census.

My uncle was pleased at the efforts I made, even when I failed, because
it shewed that I had conquered my old enemy--indolence.

I wrote down these questions while they were fresh in my mind; and then
we all went to take our last walk together to Franklin’s farm. We found
him and his active wife fixing on the situation of the house and garden,
and orchard.

They have chosen a place where there is a pretty slope in the ground, so
that the drains will have a good fall from the house. The garden is to
be in front, and the orchard at one side. They are going to
double-trench the ground, by digging it to twice the depth of the spade.
It is to be left in that state during the winter; and the soil, being
thus exposed to the action of air and frost, will be improved. In the
course of the winter they will plant a young hedge round the garden.

This day was one of those lovely, mild, sunny days in October, of which
I have often heard you speak.

    When Autumn scatters his departing gleams.

We staid out till sunset, enjoying the balmy air and amusing ourselves
capping verses. This we are all very fond of, and all strove hard for
victory; but I must confess that Mary was most frequently the conqueror.

_14th._--It has surprised every body how much knowledge these Miss
Lumleys have acquired; and yesterday, when we were out walking, my aunt
expressed this surprise to Mrs. Lumley.

“Next to the great principles of religion and morality,” she replied,
“we endeavoured from their infancy to give them habits of _exactness_,
which we have always found lead not only to regularity and economy of
time, but become great preservatives of truth. On such a foundation it
was not difficult to engraft the love of knowledge; and literature was
always made an indulgence, not a task. After affectionately helping me
in our many coarse and laborious works, they first sympathised in the
pleasure they perceived I felt, when I had time to read a few pages of
some interesting history or poem; and, from sympathy, they soon began to
taste the pleasure themselves.”

They continued the conversation till dinnertime, and both seemed equally
pleased at finding how exactly they agreed in their sentiments on
education. In the evening, after some music, my aunt, who had been
particularly gratified with the piety that appeared in every thing that
had dropped from Mrs. Lumley, but who knew that very good people
sometimes differed in opinion on trifling matters, said to her, “I
should be inclined to play some lively tunes, and set our young people
to dance; but I am not sure whether you approve of dancing, and in such
a slight thing I would not offend opinions that I am sure deserve
respect.”

“Indeed,” she replied, “I feel, just as you do, great pleasure in seeing
young people cheerful, and enjoying amusements suited to their age; nor
can I find in any part of that Book which should be our guide, one word
to indicate the impropriety of social amusement--if moderately indulged
in, and not made the business of life. Moderation, in all things, I do
indeed enjoin. My daughters, I fear, can ill take a part in a dance with
yours--but I shall be delighted to see my good, homely girls amused. I
must add,” continued she, “that I should be sorry you mistook my
opinions; misfortune has made me think seriously, but not harshly. It
has given me deeper views of religion than I had in the careless hours
of prosperity, but at the same time it has convinced me how much more
there is of affected singularity than of real religion, in prohibiting a
moderate degree of amusement. It is very probable that I might have
become enthusiastic or melancholy, had it not been for the friendship of
Mr. Benson, that good clergyman who lives near us. It is not too much to
say, that in his conduct, as well as in his sentiments, he shews the
happiest union of Christian piety with all the social virtues; and that
his profound learning on the most important of all subjects, is
embellished by the graces and knowledge of this world.”

My aunt then sat down to the piano-forte, and summoned us all to dance.
Mr. L. and my uncle were so good as to join our party, and we danced
very merrily for about an hour; and so ends our last night with these
very engaging Lumleys.

MRS. LUMLEY’S HYMN.

    Teach me, O God! to Thee my voice to raise
      In meek submission, and in humble praise;
    In all events, thy gracious will to see,
      In all misfortunes, to behold but Thee.

    To feel, in want and anguish, all thy love,
      The tender father’s discipline to own;
    To know that sorrow comes, my heart to prove,
      To feel the warning of thy awful frown.

    O! make me grateful, that I’m timely tried,
      And forced from earthly cares to love Thee, Lord!
    That, by thy chastisement, thus purified,
      I live in Thee, and in Thy holy word.

    As lightning clears the sky, by clouds o’ercast,
      So shall adversity my heart revive;
    When worldly joy is gone, and sorrow past,
      My humbled heart in faith and hope shall live.

    The sun behind our western hills declines,
      But gilds the evening clouds with golden ray:
    Thus when the morn of life no longer shines,
      Still Christian hope illumes our fading day.
    And as the rising sun dispels the night,
    So shall we wake with joy in Gospel light.

_15th._--Mr. Lumley said the other day, that the inhabitants of the
Apennines were like the people of Auvergne in their manners; so I took
an opportunity this morning of asking my aunt some questions about them.
She told me, that Auvergne has been very little known till lately; even
the remarkable fact, that the whole district is a collection of extinct
volcanoes, has not been very long discovered. It has been visited by few
travellers, and the people seem to have had but little intercourse with
their neighbours. Bakewell’s Travels were in the room, and she gave me
the following passages to read.

“It was market day, and we met a long train of carts with wood, each
drawn by four oxen, coming to Clermont. The dress and appearance of the
mountaineers who were conducting the carts, were very striking; with
immense broad-brimmed hats, long, lank hair, gaunt features, and striped
cloth cloaks, that reached nearly to their feet, they bore no
resemblance to Frenchmen, and they spoke a different language. I believe
they are the descendants from the same race who resisted Cæsar, for
whatever changes may have taken place in other parts of France, none of
the warlike hordes who ravaged the more fertile parts of the country in
succeeding ages, would have wished to take possession of the sterile
mountains of Auvergne, or to undertake the task of driving out the
original inhabitants. I was much surprised, on entering some of the
houses, to observe that the lamps, waterpots, and other earthenware
vessels, were of the same form as the Etruscan vessels from
Herculaneum; they are doubtless made after models transmitted from very
remote antiquity, as vessels of these forms are not found in any other
parts of France that I have visited. The music of the Auvergnats is the
bagpipe.

“Many of the families in the lower or middle rank of life, have small
vineyards, and make wine for their own use. A freehold vineyard, which
costs two hundred francs, or about eight pounds sterling, produced wine,
more than sufficient for a family of five persons, as we were informed
by one of these little proprietors. They cultivate the vineyards
themselves; and seem to live in contented and obscure independence,
relying on their own industry for every thing, and preserving the
customs of their remote ancestors.”

_16th._ _Sunday._--The history of our first parents, and the nature of
their transgression, was the subject of our conversation this morning.
Towards the end of it, my uncle said, “It is a strange error, though
some sensible people seem to have fallen into it, to doubt the truth of
this early part of sacred history, because the eating of a certain fruit
was apparently too trifling to be considered a trial of obedience. But
there is one circumstance which they do not seem to have sufficiently
considered; that, if it was necessary to lay Adam under some small
restraint, to remind him, that notwithstanding his dominion over all
things, he was still the servant of the Most High; a trial of his
obedience to any _moral_ precepts could scarcely have been made, for
there was no opportunity at that time of violating them. For instance,
there was nothing to tempt him to idolatry, when every recent
circumstance must have carried with it a conviction of the single power
of the Almighty; and when the impression of the Creator’s beneficent
agency was kept alive by the frequent visits of his glorious presence.
Highly favoured creatures, the voice of their God was a sound familiar
to their ears!

“As there were no other inhabitants in the world, it was impossible to
steal, murder, covet, or commit any crime against society. It had been,
therefore, vain indeed, to forbid that which could not be done. There
could be no virtue in abstaining from crimes to which there was no
temptation. But there would have been virtue in submitting to the
commands of God, who required only this simple abstinence, in token of
their subjection; and no matter how small the trial, it was their part
to have obeyed. It pleases God to try our virtue sometimes with very
small temptations, and the weakness with which we transgress in the
least things, may convince us that we are not very capable of resisting
great temptations.

“Insignificant creatures that we are, with narrow views and limited
perceptions; we are always ready to arraign the decrees of the Supreme
Disposer of all, and to wonder why things are not otherwise. I have read
a good remark, made by Philo a learned Jew, which may apply to this
presumptuous disposition of mankind. In treating of the plagues of
Egypt, he says, ‘Some inquire why God punished the country by such
minute and contemptible animals, as flies and frogs, rather than by
lions, leopards, or other savage beasts that prey on man. But let them
reflect, that God chose rather to correct, than to destroy the
inhabitants--if he had desired to annihilate them utterly, he had no
need to have made use of any auxiliaries. Let them remember, also, that
when God--the source of all power--who stands in need of no assistance,
chooses to employ instruments, as it were, to inflict chastisement;
instead of the strongest, he selects the mean and the despicable--but
which, in his service, are endowed with irresistible force.’”

_17th._--As my uncle saw how much I was interested about the Laplanders,
and their reindeer, he was so good as to read to us, last night, an
account of them, from De Capell Brooke’s travels, a very entertaining
book, which has been lately published. I will transcribe a little of it
here, as I know Marianne will like to see it.

“My landlord having received intelligence that the Laplanders, with
their reindeer, were within a mile of Fugleness, I was anxious to avail
myself of the opportunity of seeing them. After an hour’s walk, we found
the tent and its owner, Per Mathison; and inside the tent, into which we
crept, Marit, his wife, was busy preparing the utensils for milking the
deer, and making the cheese. She was not more than four feet nine inches
high, and of a brown complexion, which seemed more the result of
habitual dirt, and of living constantly in smoke, than of nature. She
had on her summer dress of dirty white cloth, girt round by a belt, to
which was suspended a small knife; and her _komagers_, or shoes, were of
strong leather, forming a peak at the toes. On her head she wore a high
cap, made partly of cloth, and partly of bits of coloured calico. This
cap is peculiar to the Norwegian Lapland, and is rather elegant in its
shape. Though wild and uncouth, her manners did not betray the surliness
so conspicuous in her husband. The latter was dressed in reindeer fawn
skins, which, being thin and pliable, were not likely to be too warm.

“Another Laplander and his wife lived in the same tent. This man seemed
to be a partner of Per Mathison; their deer were mixed together, but the
superior number belonged to the latter, and he was evidently head of the
family, which was easily perceived, from his idleness and inactivity,
mixed with a kind of gruff independence, that bespoke a laird of the
mountains. He had, for the last two summers, brought his herd of deer to
the mountains of Whale Island, from the interior of Norwegian Lapland--a
distance of more than two hundred miles. Here he remained between two
and three months; and, before the approach of winter, again returned to
his native forests.

“In about two hours, the distant barking of the dogs indicated the
coming of the deer, which we at last discerned winding slowly along the
mountains, at the distance of near a mile, appearing like a black moving
mass. They now approached the fold, which was a large space that had
been cleared of the brushwood, and inclosed by branches of dwarf birch
and aspen, stuck around to prevent the deer from straying. As the herd
came up to it, the deer made frequent snortings; and a loud crackling
was heard, produced by their divided hoofs striking against each other.
These animals, being endued with an exquisite sense of smelling, soon
perceived there were strangers near; and our appearance, so different
from the dress of the Laplanders to which they had been accustomed,
alarmed them to such a degree, that it was necessary for us to retire
till they had entered the fold. After some difficulty, the whole herd
were at length collected within the circle; and the women, bringing
their bowls from the tent, began the operation of milking, which, as
some hundreds of deer were assembled, was likely to take up a
considerable time. In this both the men and women were busily employed.
Before each deer was milked, a cord with a noose was thrown round the
horns, by which it was secured and kept steady. The Laplanders are
extremely expert at this; and it was surprising to see the exactness
with which the noose was thrown from a distance; hardly ever failing to
light upon the horns of the deer for which it was intended, though in
the thickest of the herd. The cord for this purpose was made of the
fibres of the birch, very neatly plaited together, and exceedingly
strong. During the short time the animal was milking, this cord was
either held by one of the women, or made fast to a birch shrub; some of
the thickest having been stripped of their leaves, and left standing for
this purpose. Many of the deer, instead of being tractable, as I had
imagined, were very refractory, frequently even throwing the women down,
and hurting them with their horns. They seemed very little to mind this;
but, strong as the Laplanders are, they appeared to have little power
over these animals, for when one had the cord round its horns, and
refused to be milked, it dragged the holder with ease round the fold.
The quantity of milk that each deer gave scarcely exceeded a tea-cup
full; but it was extremely luscious, of a fine aromatic flavour, and
richer than cream. Of this we eagerly partook, after we had permission;
which, however, Per Mathison did not at first seem willing to grant, but
his sullen nature was soon softened by brandy.

“In the middle of the herd of deer, suspended to the branches of a low
birch, was a child about a year old, enclosed in a kind of cradle, or
case covered with leather. The Laplanders, when obliged to go any
distance from their tents, frequently leave their children thus
suspended on a tree, by which they are secured from the attack of any
ravenous animal.

“It was past midnight before the whole of the herd was milked. The sun
had left the heavens about an hour, but a deep orange tint, on the verge
of the horizon, shewed that it was not far below it. The deer were at
length turned out from the fold; and, spreading themselves along the
sides of the mountains, were quickly lost to our view. The Laplanders
now collecting the milk, which amounted to a considerable quantity,
proceeded with it to the tent, inviting us to supper. We crept in, and
seated ourselves on reindeer skins, which were strewed on the ground.
The business of making cheese now commenced: and Marit, emptying the
milk from the bowls into a large iron pot, placed it over a fire, in the
centre of the tent, the smoke of which annoyed us much. In a short
time, the milk assumed the appearance of curd; and, being taken off, was
placed in small moulds, made of beech wood, and pressed together. The
number of cheeses thus made amounted to about eight, of the size of a
common plate, and barely an inch in thickness. The whey and curds that
remained were for our supper, though the dirty habits of the people much
diminished my appetite.

“After supper was finished, and the bowls and other utensils removed to
a corner of the tent, fresh wood was placed on the fire, which again
enveloped us in smoke. On its burning up, the flames reached the
cheeses, which had been placed on a board directly over the fire, that
the smoke might harden them. Their richness and the heat caused large
drops of oil to trickle from them, which the men licked up with evident
relish.

“The whole group was a curious one. Opposite to us, around the fire,
were the uncouth figures of the Laplanders, squatting on their haunches.
In one corner were two children asleep in deer-skins; and more than
twenty small dogs were also reposing about us. It was soon time for the
men to commence their nightly employment of watching the deer, and
accordingly one of them left the tent. On making a signal, about half
the dogs, whose turn it was to commence the watch, started suddenly up,
and followed their master to the mountains. I was greatly surprised to
find the rest take no notice of the summons, and remain quietly
stretched on their deer-skins, well aware, singular as it may seem, that
it was not their turn.”

_18th._--Mary is reading Waddington’s Visit to Ethiopia and Dongola, and
she shewed me an account in it of the _mirage_, that most curious
deception of the sight.

In crossing the immense sandy plain near Askán, in Dongola, Mr. W. says
they had a good view of the mirage. It assumed at first the appearance
of a broad winding stream, which he mistook for the Nile. It then
changed rather suddenly from a river to a sea, covering the whole of the
horizon in front of the party; while castles, trees, and rocks seemed to
stand in the middle of the water, in which those objects were most
distinctly reflected. The apparent distance of the nearest part was
continually changing from one quarter to three quarters of a mile.

At Bakkil Mr. W. saw another beautiful mirage; and he remarks that the
two or three places where he had seen this phenomenon in the greatest
perfection, were peculiarly frequented by the antelope, as if she loved
the banks of that fairy sea, and delighted to gaze upon its fugitive
waters. It is a singular coincidence with this observation, that the
mirage is called by the Arabs of the Desert,--the lake of the gazelles.

I was anxious to learn something further on this curious subject, and
not knowing what books to consult, I applied to my uncle. He tells me
that a species of mirage is very common at sea; distant ships seem
grotesquely caricatured by it either in length or in height; and
sometimes, over the real vessel, an inverted picture of it appears
suspended in the sky, with the masts of each prolonged, so as to unite.
A similar effect was observed in the desert by the French, in their
Egyptian expedition; the villages appearing distorted, or raised above
their natural level, or as if built on an island in the middle of a
lake. As they approached, the apparent surface of the water became
narrower and narrower, till it disappeared; and the same deceptive
appearance began again at the next village. But all travellers through
sandy plains, in hot climates, mention this kind of optical deception,
and particularly that of its having the appearance of water. Some of
them, after having travelled for hours in a burning desert, faint and
exhausted, have had their spirits revived by the sight of water, and
have eagerly pushed on to refresh themselves and their poor camels; you
may judge of their disappointment when they perceived that it was all
illusion.

Another very remarkable instance of mirage, my uncle says, has been more
than once seen at Reggio, in the straits of Messina, where it is called
the Fata Morgana. When the rays of the sun form an angle of about 45°
with the sea, and that the bright surface of the water in the bay is not
disturbed by wind or current, if the spectator be placed with his back
to the sun, there suddenly appears on the water the most
incomprehensible variety of objects--pilasters, arches, and castles,
lofty towers and extensive palaces, with all their balconies and
windows--or perhaps trees, vallies, and plains, with their herds and
flocks--armies of men, on foot and on horseback, and many other strange
objects; all in their natural colours, and all in action, passing
rapidly in succession along the surface of the sea. But if, besides the
circumstances before described, the atmosphere happens to be loaded with
a dense vapour, which the sun had not previously dispersed, the observer
will behold a representation of the same objects in the air, as if
traced there on a curtain; though not so distinct or well defined as
those on the sea. These curious appearances were fancifully called by
the Italians, the castles of the Fairy Morgana.

My uncle says that the celebrated Dr. Wollaston has proved, by some very
ingenious experiments, that they arise from the irregular refraction of
the rays of light, in passing through contiguous portions of air, of
different densities. One of these experiments he was so good as to shew
us; and as it is so simple, that Marianne can easily try it, I will
endeavour to describe it here.

He put a little clear syrup into a square phial, and then poured about
an equal quantity of water into it, over the syrup. The phial was set on
the table, and having placed a printed card about an inch behind it, he
made us observe that when we looked through the syrup, or through the
water, the letters on the card appeared _erect_; but, that when they
were seen through that part where the two fluids were gradually mixing
together, the letters were equally distinct, but _inverted_. A similar
effect, he said, may be produced with hot and cold water, or even by two
portions of cold and heated air; and to shew us this, he performed
another very easy experiment. He placed two of the library chairs back
to back, and about a foot apart; he connected the tops of the chairs
with two bits of strong wire, and on the wires he laid the kitchen
poker, the square end of which he had made red hot. Exactly in the
direction of the poker he pinned a large printed A upon the wall, which
was about ten feet distant; and then desired us to look at it along the
heated poker. We did so, and we all distinctly saw three images of the
A, the middle one being inverted, and the two others erect.

Dear mamma, how this reminded me of the day when you first explained to
us the meaning of _refraction_, and shewed us the pretty little
experiment of the stick, which appeared to bend just at the surface of
the water. How often I now feel the benefit of all your patient
instruction, and how often I wish I had your excellent memory, which
enabled you to teach us so many things, without having any books to
assist you!

_20th._--My cousins like Eastern tales just as much as I do--and my
uncle speaks of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments as if he was still a
boy. He thinks that they are not only very ingenious, but that many of
the apparent wonders, which are related as supernatural, may be easily
explained, by means of the chemical and philosophical knowledge which is
too generally supposed to be the result of late discoveries. I should
like to read over all my favourite tales with him, for the benefit of
his explanations. What brought them into my mind now, was a pretty
little anecdote which I once heard him tell Grace, and which she has
just been repeating to me.

In Khorasân, there was a certain old caravanserai, called Zafferounee,
which was once so very extensive, as to contain seventeen hundred
chambers, besides baths and shops, and besides accommodation for
thousands of cattle within its walls. It is said to have been erected by
one of those wealthy Eastern merchants, who delighted in perpetuating
their names by acts of public utility. While it was building, and a
large quantity of straw and clay were mixing up for that purpose on the
road near it, a cafilah, consisting of a hundred camels, loaded with
saffron, chanced to pass; and one of them, slipping into the clay, fell,
and was disabled. Their owner inveighed bitterly against those who by so
carelessly doing their work on the public road, had occasioned such a
serious loss to him. The merchant, who was himself superintending the
progress of the building, on hearing these complaints, inquired what
might be the value not only of the camel, which had been disabled, but
of all the rest; and purchasing the whole on the spot, ordered the
saffron to be tumbled into the clay, and worked up with it, instead of
chopped straw. It was from this that the caravanserai obtained the name
of Zafferounee, or Saffron.

This rich merchant, however, fell afterwards into difficulties, as might
have been expected, from his extravagance, and at last became a beggar.
Travelling in search of subsistence, into foreign countries, he happened
to visit the place where the camel-driver, now grown immensely rich,
lived in splendour. It came to the ears of the latter, that a stranger,
in poverty, who spoke of his former riches in Khorasân, was living
wretchedly in the town; and suspecting that this might be his old
benefactor, he invited him to his house; and after feasting him
superbly, induced him to relate his history: when, in concluding it, the
unhappy Khorasânee described his destitute condition, the other
interrupted him, saying, “How can you call yourself poor, when you are,
in reality, a man possessed of great riches?” “Ah! no,” replied the
other; “once, indeed, I had much wealth, but all is gone; and I am now a
beggar!” On this his host carried him to a secret chamber, which was
full of money--“This,” said he, “is all yours; it is the price of the
saffron which you so liberally purchased from me: I have traded upon it
and become rich, but the original sum I have always reserved as
belonging to you; take it now, and live happily.”

Grace is always encouraged to repeat to others the little stories which
are told to her: I wish you could have heard her relating this to us
before tea.

_22d._--Well, I am in actual possession of the old quarry. Having
settled all my plans, I at once set to work, and my uncle was so good as
to let me have one of the workmen to help me, because he said my ideas
were rational. The opening of the quarry fronts the south-west; the
rock at the back is high and steep, and a spring, which trickles from
it, keeps the part which had been most deeply worked constantly full of
water. In this I have put several pretty water-plants--Mr. Biggs, I
know, lays a quantity of peat compost in his pond; but though I have not
been able to obtain that yet, I have planted the white and the yellow
water lily, which the gardener found for me a few miles off. A thick
skreen of shrubs has been planted by my uncle’s directions, above the
rocks to the north, but no forest trees, for in a short time they would
outgrow the place which they ornament only while young.

The middle and southern parts of the quarry are to be sloped and
dressed; all the briars have been already taken out, and the loose
splinters of the quarry are spread on the surface of the bank. Upon
these, the gardener has laid a mixture of peat earth and sand, which he
had to spare; and here I intend to have an incomparable bed of
strawberries.

South of these, and where the rocky bank sinks, I am filling up the
hollow and uneven spots with the same mixture and rotten leaves; for Mr.
Biggs says that the natural soil of the beautiful North American shrubs
is chiefly formed of decayed vegetables.

Groups of _rhododendron_, _azalea_, _kalmia_, and many more, which, as
I have learnt from that delightful book, Miller’s dictionary, are suited
to that soil and aspect, are to flourish there; and by Mary’s advice,
they are to be mixed with some of the Scotch roses. These are rather
scarce here; but Mr. Biggs has been so generous as to send me a small
piece of the root of each of his own rose bushes. There are a few fibres
on them, and he assures me they will sprout in spring--so it will be a
good experiment at least. I shall also have a little grass plat, with a
few small beds for choice flowers, which I expect will blossom very
early in this little snug spot.

I have planted some of the _lobelia fulgens_, and a _hydrangea_, which
is a native of marshy ground, near the edge of the pond--and when spring
comes, I hope to execute many other grand plans which I have formed,
from hearing Mr. Biggs. My cousins approve of them, and all help me, and
Mary wonders she never thought of adorning the old quarry before.

I am now very busy in making a bed for _ixia_, _gladiolis_,
_lachenalia_, and _oxalis_--they are usually in a greenhouse, but I hear
that, if planted late in October, in a soil composed of peat earth, and
sharp sand, and over this, if a layer of peat, eight inches thick, be
laid, to prevent the frost from reaching them, they will be in beautiful
blossom in spring. I will try this--my uncle encourages experiment; he
says it is the high road to truth--and he assists all who wish to travel
on it.

_23rd._, _Sunday._--I asked my uncle this morning to tell me the meaning
of Noah’s prediction, “God shall enlarge Japhet, and he shall dwell in
the tents of Shem.” In reply, he told us the opinions of a very learned
person, for whose writings he has a high respect; and I will endeavour
to give you the substance of what he said.

“The most obvious meaning of the expression is, that Providence would
bless Japhet with a numerous progeny, which should not only spread over
an ample tract of country, but that they would afterwards encroach on
the territory of Shem’s descendants. And this sense of the words is
supported by history; for the whole of Europe, and a considerable part
of Asia, was originally peopled, and has been always occupied, by
Japhet’s offspring, who, not contented with their own possessions, have
repeatedly made encroachments on the sons of Shem; as, for instance,
when Alexander the Great, with an European army, attacked and overthrew
the Persian monarchy; when the Romans subjected a great part of the
East; and still more, when the Tartar conquerors of the race of Genghis
Khan destroyed the empire of the Caliphs, took possession of their
country, and made settlements in all parts of Asia. Tamerlane also led
his Moguls, who were another branch of Japhet’s progeny, into Hindostan;
and their descendants gradually obtained possession of that immense
country, a part of Shem’s original inheritance. These events, and others
of the same nature, may be considered as the accomplishment of that
prophecy; not only because they answer to the natural import of its
terms, but because they have had great influence on the state of true
religion in various parts of the world; so that in this interpretation
we find the two circumstances which are the characteristics of a true
interpretation,--an agreement with the facts recorded in history, and a
connection of the particular prediction with the general system of the
prophetic word.

“It would seem, however, that some amicable intercourse between parts of
those two great families is implied by the expression, ‘Japhet’s
dwelling in the tents of Shem’; for the settlements made by the
Portuguese, English, Dutch, and French in different parts of India,
which was a part of Shem’s inheritance, may be taken in this sense. And
consequences cannot but arise of great importance, from such numerous
and extensive settlements of Christians, in countries where the light of
the Gospel has been for ages extinguished.

“There is still a third sense: but in order to make it more apparent,
it will be proper to consider the precise meaning of Shem’s blessing--a
blessing obliquely conveyed in this emphatic ejaculation, ‘Blessed be
Jehovah, the God of Shem!’ This evidently implied that Jehovah was to be
more peculiarly the God of Shem; and in the same sense that he
afterwards vouchsafed to call himself the God of one branch of Shem’s
progeny--of Abraham, Isaac, and of Jacob, and of their descendants the
Jewish people. Although the universal Father of all the nations of the
earth, he may be said to have more particularly adopted the descendants
of Shem, in choosing them to be the depositaries of the true religion,
while the rest of mankind were sunk in idolatry and ignorance. Among
them he preserved the knowledge and worship of himself, by a series of
miraculous dispensations; to them he confided the representative
priesthood, the type of the Messiah; and when the destined season came,
he raised the Messiah himself from among the offspring of that chosen
family.

“But the expression, ‘the tents (or tabernacles) of Shem,’ alludes to
the Jewish tabernacle, which was one of the external means of preserving
the worship of the true God. The word in Hebrew is the same for both
tent and tabernacle. This holy tent was Shem’s tabernacle, because it
was entrusted to his descendants, and because none but them might bear a
part in its sacred service. Now this tabernacle, and this service, were
undoubtedly emblems of the Christian church and Christian worship. It
appears, then, that in the mention of the tents of Shem, Noah was
inspired to make allusion to the Jewish tabernacle, as the symbol of the
Christian dispensation; and that the dwelling of Japhet in those tents
of Shem, took place when the idolatrous nations of Japhet’s line became
converted to the faith of Christ, and worshipped the God of Shem in
Shem’s tabernacles; that is, worshipped God in the truth and spirit of
revealed religion.

“This prediction, therefore, bears directly upon the general object of
all the prophecies--the union of all nations in the faith of Christ. And
the fact is notorious, that the Gospel has, from the beginning to the
present time, made the greatest progress in Europe, where the early and
wide-spreading conversions of the idolaters of Japhet’s line (among whom
were our own ancestors) soon led to encroachments on the territory of
Shem.

“How grateful should we be,” my uncle added, “to those learned men who
thus elucidate the difficult passages in Scripture, and shew the
beautiful harmony of the whole prophetic system!”

_24th._--I am reading “Bartram’s Travels in North America.” It is not a
late publication, but very interesting to me, as I like to compare the
productions of North and South America.

Among all the beautiful trees of our Southern regions, I do not
recollect having seen or heard of the deciduous cypress, the majestic
grandeur of which, he says, is surprising. It generally grows in low
flat grounds, that are covered, part of the year, with water. The lower
part of the stem, which is frequently under water, enlarges into
prodigious buttresses; and they project on every side to such a
distance, that several men might hide in the recesses between them. The
stem is generally hollow as high as the buttresses reach, where it
forms, as it were, another beginning, and rises, in a straight
uninterrupted column, to the height of 80 or 90 feet. There it throws
out its noble branches like an umbrella; eagles securely build their
nests in them; they are the abode of hundreds of parroquets, who delight
in shelling the seeds; and even the hollow stem is not untenanted, as it
affords spacious apartments for the wild bees.

The trunks supply excellent timber; and, when hollowed out, make large
and durable canoes. When the planters fell these mighty trees, they
erect a high stage round them, so as to reach above the buttresses; and
on these stages eight or ten men can work together, with their axes.

Another curious fact which I found in this book is, that the
inhabitants of East Florida prepare, from the root of the China briar, a
very agreeable sort of jelly, which they call _conti_. They chop the
root in pieces, which are afterwards pounded in a wooden mortar; and,
when washed and strained, the sediment that settles to the bottom dries
into a reddish flour. A small quantity of this, mixed with warm water
and sweetened with honey, becomes a delicious jelly, when cool; or,
mixed with corn flour and fried in fresh bear’s oil, it makes very nice
cakes.

_26th._--I have just found, in “Bartram’s Travels,” some particulars
that I do not think we knew before, of that curious species of the
_Tillandsia_, commonly called long moss.

It grows on all trees in the southern regions of North America; and any
part of the living plant, torn off and caught on the branches of another
tree, immediately takes root. Wherever it fixes, it spreads into long
pendent filaments, which subdivide themselves in an endless manner,
waving in the wind like streamers, to the length of twenty feet. It is
common to find the spaces between the boughs of large trees entirely
occupied by masses of this plant, which, in bulk and weight, would
require several men to carry. In some places, cart loads of it are found
lying on the ground, torn off by the violence of the wind. When fresh,
cattle and deer eat it in the winter season; and when dry, it is
employed for stuffing chairs, saddles, and beds; but to prepare it
properly for these purposes, it is thrown into shallow ponds of water,
where the outside furry substance soon decays: it is then taken out of
the water and spread in the sun; and, after a little beating, nothing
remains but a hard, black, elastic filament, resembling horse-hair.

There is a curious anecdote about the name of this plant, in “Harry and
Lucy concluded;” but I need not mention it here, because my uncle has
sent that delightful little book to you, and I am sure Marianne will
have run through it with as much eagerness as I did.

_28th._--I have just found some more instances of those strange optical
deceptions, which seem to be of the same nature as the Fata Morgana. My
aunt thinks that the term mirage only applies to the deceitful waters of
the desert.

Mr. Dalby writes in the Philosophical Transactions that, ascending a
hill in the Isle of Wight, he observed that the top of another hill, of
about the same level, seemed to dance up and down as he advanced; and on
bringing his eye down to within two feet of the ground, the top of the
hill appeared totally detached, or lifted up from the lower part, the
sky being seen under it. This he repeatedly observed; and he adds, that
as the sun was rather warm for the season, with a heavy dew, there was
a great deal of evaporation going on.

Another very singular example of these extraordinary appearances in the
atmosphere, is given by Dr. Buchan. Walking on the cliff, about a mile
east of Brighton, in the latter end of November, just as the sun was
rising, he saw the face of the cliff on which he was standing
represented precisely opposite to him, at some distance in the sea; and
both he and his companion perceived their own figures standing on the
summit of the apparent cliff, as well as the picture of a windmill near
them. This phenomenon lasted about ten minutes, when it seemed to be
elevated into the air, and to be gradually dissipated; and he remarks,
that the surface of the sea was covered with a dense fog many yards in
height, which slowly receded before the sun’s rays.

How frequently it happens, when the curiosity has been awakened by any
new subject, that chance leads one to some circumstance in books, or
conversation, that exactly applies to it! By mere accident, I opened
Scoresby’s voyage at the following passage, which I have just time to
transcribe.

After describing the amusing spectacle of some distant ships, which were
either curiously distorted, or inverted in the air, by means of this
wonderful kind of refraction, he says, “When looking through the
telescope, the coasts of ice, or rock, had often the appearance of the
remains of an ancient city, abounding with the ruins of castles,
churches, and monuments, with other large and conspicuous buildings. The
hills often appear to be surmounted with turrets, battlements, spires,
and pinnacles, while others, subjected to another kind of refraction,
seem to be large masses of rock, suspended in the air, at a considerable
elevation above the actual terminations of the mountains to which they
refer. The whole exhibition is a grand and majestic phantasmagoria;
scarcely is the appearance of any object fully examined and determined,
before it changes to something else; it is perhaps alternately a castle,
a cathedral, or an obelisk,--and then expanding and coalescing with the
adjoining mountains, it unites the intermediate vallies, though they may
be miles in width, by a bridge of a single arch, of the most magnificent
appearance.”

_29th._--We have been visiting Franklin’s farm to-day, and have had a
very pleasant walk, late as it is in the year. He is so diligent, that
he has done a great deal to it since we were last there. Between it and
the next land he has made a ditch, with a high firm fence of flat stones
placed edgeways, in three rows, each row sloping a little, and all
supported by a bank of earth behind them; between the two upper rows of
stones, he has planted quick-thorns, and on the top of the bank a few
young oak and elm trees. The deep ditch will serve to carry off the
water from some drains that are to be made in a part of the ground which
is wet and marshy. These drains are to be covered with earth; and
something must be done to keep them from filling up. Some people line
them with stone, but that is too expensive; and as he has just clipped
some of his hedges, he intends, I believe, to put the branches of the
thorn-bushes into the bottom of the drains, which will also prevent the
sides from falling in.

Springs are formed in the bosom of the earth, my uncle says, by the rain
water which sinks through the surface, and which, gently oozing, or
_percolating_, as he calls it, through the sand or gravel, or through
other porous strata, continues to descend till it is intercepted by some
bed of clay or rock. No longer being able to descend, it follows the
course of this impassable bed, and if thus conducted to the outside of
the ground, lower down the hill, it forms then a spring. But if
prevented by any obstacle from flowing freely out of the ground, it
diffuses itself under the surface, and produces swamps and marshes. My
uncle has been of great use to Franklin, not only by teaching him how to
discover from the form of the ground where it is most likely to meet
with and _tap_ these concealed springs, but by laying out the drains for
him with a levelling instrument, so that they should have sufficient
fall into the main ditch, or into a little rivulet which skirts his
farm. I could not have conceived that science might be made so useful
even in common agriculture.

Franklin is also ploughing a field for wheat--and is going afterwards to
plough up another field that looks all rough and ugly--but which is to
be left unsown the whole winter; he intends to plough it two or three
times, and then in Spring, after it has lain fallow in this way, he will
sow it with barley. Another grand operation is the preparing a piece of
ground for an orchard; my uncle has promised him some nice young
fruit-trees for it; and Franklin, very prudently, brought over some
American apple-trees, which he says are very productive.

The blind basket-maker sometimes walks to the farm with the assistance
of Bessy’s arm; and it is impossible to see the happiness of the whole
family without feeling the strongest interest in their welfare. She now
looks quite blooming and healthy; and she is so industrious that besides
her in-door occupations, she has persuaded her husband to give her an
acre of ground for flax, with which she hopes to do a great deal. This
will be a very uncommon crop in this country, but I am sure, from what
my uncle says, that it will be very profitable.

_30th._, _Sunday._--We had a conversation this morning on the character
of Joseph, which my uncle thinks a fine example of all the Christian
virtues. “If we follow him,” said my uncle, “from his youth to the
height of his preferment, we see him, in every part of his life,
virtuous and religious; patient and courageous under misfortune; modest
and temperate in the greatest success. He suffered injustice from his
master who imprisoned him, though he had been just and faithful; but
under this great trial he had the comfort of knowing that he was
innocent. He had the still greater comfort of confiding in the support
of God, who, in his own good time, delivered him from prison, and
permitted him to be raised to a high situation, where his integrity
might be made manifest. Then, if we consider his generous forbearance
towards his brethren, how highly does it raise our admiration of his
truly amiable disposition! When they were in his power--in just
resentment of their former cruelty, he thought it right to mortify and
humble them--but no sooner did he see that they were penitent, than his
anger ceased.--And when he discovered himself to them, with what
kindness and magnanimity he endeavoured to make them less dissatisfied
with their former conduct!

“‘Be not grieved nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither; for
God did send me before you to preserve life: to preserve you a posterity
in the earth. So now it was not you that sent me hither, but God.’

“Can any thing be more touching,” added my uncle, “than his generous
anxiety to make his brethren forgive themselves, by shewing the
advantages that were ultimately produced by their conduct to him?”

“There is one thing,” said Wentworth, “that I do not understand--why
does Joseph say there shall be neither earing nor harvest, as if he
meant two separate things?”

“The word _earing_,” replied my uncle, “sounds as if it meant gathering
ripe ears of corn: but it is an old English term for ploughing, and is
used in that sense in two other parts of scripture.”

“I had imagined,” said Caroline, “that earing was mentioned in that
particular manner, in allusion to some blight, through which the corn
should no longer give such an astonishing produce as seven ears to one
stalk.”

“No;” said my uncle, “nor was that an unusual produce. A species of
wheat still grows in Egypt, which generally bears this number of ears,
and the stem is solid, that is, full of pith, in order to support so
great a weight. The stem of our own wheat is, you know, a mere hollow
straw. You see how necessary it is, my dear children, when you do not
perfectly understand what you read or hear, to have courage enough to
confess your ignorance, and to ask for explanation.

“Before we finish the subject of Joseph,” he continued, “I will explain
another small circumstance, of which perhaps Bertha at least may not be
aware. The ancient manner of eating was for each person to have one or
more dishes to himself; they were all first set before the master of the
feast, who distributed to every one his portion; and as a mark of
affection for Benjamin, Joseph sent him five dishes, while he only sent
one to each of the others. In Persia and Arabia, every dish that is set
before the master of the house is divided into as many portions as there
are guests, but those of the greatest rank have by far the largest
shares.”

_31st._--Mr. R----, a friend of my uncle’s, has been here for a few
days, and has amused us very much.

Yesterday he shewed us a Proteus kind of substance; it had at first a
milky transparency, and reflected a bluish white light, but when we
looked through it, it was yellow. He slightly wetted it, and then it
lost all transparency, appearing like chalk. He immersed it completely
in water, and the edges became more transparent than before, and at the
same time a little gas seemed to escape from it. A small white ball
appeared in the centre, but it gradually diminished in size, and the
transparency extended through the whole mass.

He afterwards put some of this substance into oils of different
colours--the colours it quickly acquired--and when it had completely
absorbed the oil it became transparent, but when partially it was
opaque. When steeped in oil, coloured with alkanet-root, it had quite
the tints of the ruby; from a preparation of copper it imbibed the
colour of the emerald; and from some acid exactly that of a Brazilian
topaz. He then shewed us that all these brilliant colours could be
discharged along with the oil, by exposing the substance to a strong
heat.

Fortunately for us, when Mr. R. called here he was on his way home from
London, where he had provided himself with these curiosities, and he was
so good-natured as to unpack some of his treasures for our
gratification.

I was much surprised at these cameleon-like changes; and at last I
learned that this substance is the _tabasheer_, of which I had read
something before. It is found in the cavities of the bamboo; while the
plants are young, it is fluid, but as they advance in size it hardens.
Mr. R. shewed us three specimens; the first was almost transparent, and
so tender, that in carelessly taking it up, I crushed it. He was so
kind as to say it did not signify, as he had some more; but I determined
in future to see without the help of my fingers, as you have often
advised me, dear mamma. The second piece was harder and more opaque,
having only a little transparency at the edges. The third specimen was
perfectly opaque, and looked like a bit of stucco; it was on this piece
that he shewed us the curious experiments I have mentioned.

Mr. R. endeavoured to make us comprehend the causes of all those changes
which have appeared so contradictory. “In the first place,” said he,
“tabasheer is a remarkably porous substance; now if one of the pores be
filled with air, a ray of light in passing through it suffers very
little refraction, and is therefore so little scattered, that the
tabasheer appears transparent, and objects can be partly seen through
it. This arises from the small difference between the refractive power
of air and of tabasheer. Next,” said he, “suppose a very small quantity
of water introduced into this pore, so as not to fill it, but merely to
line it with a film; then the light, in passing through the tabasheer,
the film of water, the air within, the film again, and lastly the
tabasheer, is so much scattered by these six refractions, that the
substance appears opaque. But when by complete immersion the pores are
filled with water, the multiplied refractions caused by the films and
the portions of air within, cease, and the light is more freely
transmitted.”

My uncle and Mr. R. talked a long time on the subject, and tried several
other experiments, explaining to us the reasons for each step they took;
but I have said enough to shew you that I endeavoured to understand what
they were doing, and this I am sure will give you pleasure. Indeed the
advantages of being able to comprehend something of the conversation of
such people is so great, that I cannot sufficiently thank you for having
given me a little taste for science. You used to say that there was
great danger of making girls conceited by giving them a smattering of
science; but I assure you that I shall keep a careful watch over myself
in that respect; the little knowledge I have is only a peep-hole through
which I see the boundless stores that I can never hope to possess--and
surely this can only make me more humble.

_Nov. 1st._--I had not time yesterday to say any thing of the plant
which produces the tabasheer; and perhaps Marianne might like to have
the particulars that we were told.

It is the bamboo-cane, which is of the same natural order as the
grasses; it grows in both hemispheres, almost anywhere within the
tropics, and very abundantly in the East Indies. The main roots are
thick and jointed, and from these joints spring several stems, which
are sometimes eighteen inches in circumference at the bottom. These
stems or culms are round, hollow, and shining; they grow quite straight,
and often to the height of sixty feet; and they are articulated, or
knotted; the knots being about a foot apart, and each armed with one or
two sharp spines. The leaves are narrow, eight or nine inches long, and
supported on short foot stalks; and the flowers grow in large panicles,
three or four together, from the joints of the stem.

The stalks of the bamboo, while young, are filled with a spongy
substance which contains a sweetish milky juice; but they become hollow
as they grow old, except at the joints, where they are crossed by a
woody membrane--such as I believe there is in the knots of all culms.
Upon that membrane the liquor rests, and concretes into the substance
called tabasheer, or sugar of Mombu--which was held in such esteem by
the ancients, that it was valued at its weight in silver. It had long
been used as a medicine all over the east, but was first made known in
Europe by Dr. Russell in 1790.

The young shoots are dark green; and, while tender, make a good pickle;
but the old stalks are of a shining yellow colour, and prodigiously hard
and durable: they are used in buildings, in all the farming tools, and
in all sorts of household furniture. By piercing the joints they are
often converted into water-pipes, and they make excellent poles by which
the porters carry casks, bales, and palanquins. In the island of Java, a
sort of palanquin is formed of bamboos, resembling a small house in
shape, and called a dooly. In short there are few plants which have such
a variety of uses.

_2nd._--This last summer is said by every one to have been remarkable
for the quantity of seed produced by almost all plants; and acorns were
particularly plentiful. Some were gathered for the purpose of sowing;
but an immense number remained under the oak trees in the lawn, till
within these few days, when they all disappeared, and what fell from the
trees in the course of one day, had vanished before the next. After much
puzzling about what could have become of them, Wentworth discovered that
the sheep eat them; he caught them in the act to-day. He also observed
that chaffinches and other birds eat beech-masts--but I do not wonder at
that, for I think them excellent; and my aunt tells me that on some
parts of the continent they are very much used as food by the poor
inhabitants. The oil which is previously expressed from them is of the
finest quality; and in Alsace, as well as all along the borders of
France and Germany, the peasants make a sort of cake with the remainder.

I saw the jay to-day for the first time; Mary shewed me several of these
pretty birds under a hedge. We watched them for some time, and I
actually saw one raise and depress the bunch of black and white feathers
on his forehead repeatedly; the wing coverts are beautiful. Jays are
very affectionate to their young, who remain with their parents during
all the autumn and winter months, instead of separating early, as most
birds do. In winter they are to be seen continually under high hedges,
or on the sunny side of woods and copses, seeking for acorns,
crab-apples, or for the grubs and worms to be found in fields where cows
have pastured. They are timid and watchful, and feed in silence; but
timid as they are, they are very destructive in summer to the gardens.

The Lumleys, you know, live in a very sequestered part of the forest,
and the jays seem to have established themselves in that undisturbed
spot. Miss Lumley told me that they make great havoc among the beans in
June; and though in general cautious and wary, at that season their
boldness is quite remarkable, and nothing seems to intimidate them. She
has frequently seen one of the parent birds descend from a tree into the
bean rows--they soon announce their discovery by a low but particular
scream, and then all the family hastened to join in the plunder.

Their throat is so wide that they can swallow beans, acorns, and even
chesnuts whole; and it is said they can imitate various sounds, such as
the bleating of a lamb, the hooting of an owl, the mewing of a cat, and
even the neighing of a horse.

They appear to be fond of each other, but to other birds they are very
troublesome, destroying their nests and eggs, and sometimes pouncing on
the young ones, to the great vexation of the Lumleys.

_4th._--Those poor travellers, whom more than a month ago I told you
that good Mrs. Ando had so generously taken into her own house, have
been obliged to continue there ever since; and my aunt has two or three
times driven to Newnham to visit them. They have, you know, one little
child, but the man seems to be dying, and his wife, a foreigner, nurses
him with the most tender care. They have told their history to my aunt,
and she has given me leave to relate it to you.

The young woman is a Swiss, her name is Madeleine, and her father was a
merchant of Geneva, where they lived in comfortable affluence till his
wife died. His affliction on this occasion was so violent that he
resolved to quit Geneva for ever, and remove to a city in the south of
France, where he might continue his business; but Madeleine was tired of
a town life, and persuaded her father to give up commerce and retire to
a little property he possessed in the district of Beaufort, in Savoy.
She had formed delightful pictures in her imagination of the occupations
of the farm, the vineyard, and the dairy, and she longed to realise
them.

Her indulgent father yielded to her wishes, and they removed from all
the comforts of Geneva to that remote and mountainous district. When
they arrived, and that she saw the change which she had persuaded her
father to make, she felt severe regret for having interfered; and would
then have persuaded him to return, but he had arranged every thing for
his residence in Savoy--he had made his decision, and he would not let
it be again shaken.

His activity in a short time made the house comfortable, and he employed
his time and his money in forming a garden and an extensive vineyard.
The industry which he had devoted to trade, he now directed to the
cultivation of the vine, and his unwearied assiduity was rewarded in a
few years by a profusion of grapes, of which he made excellent wine.
Every thing seemed to prosper, and Madeleine dearly loved a place where
they had conquered so many difficulties, and where they had seen
comfort and plenty rise out of a bare and rocky valley; a place which,
with their endeavours to shelter and beautify it, and with the ornament
of a remarkable group of fine old walnut trees on the hill behind the
house, was now quite picturesque. The poor around them had also reason
to like the change, for many a distressed family were now employed, and
many an ignorant child was taught as well as clothed by Madeleine. But
her father had laid out all his ready money on the vineyard and on a
large stock of cattle; so that every thing depended on the success of
his plans.

According to the custom of the country, their cattle were sent every
summer with those of the neighbours, to the fresh air and sweet pasture
of the mountains. They were all intrusted to the care of one person, who
during the season lived on the top of the mountain, in a little wooden
hut, called a _chalet_. There the milk of the cattle was collected; and
in eight days after the cows had been driven up to the common pasture,
the owners assembled, and the quantity of milk from each cow was
weighed. The same thing was repeated once in the middle of summer; and
at the end of the season the whole quantity of cheese and butter was
divided in due proportion. The cattle were then driven back to the
vallies, when there was a general festival, in which the whole _commune_
joined. All the young people used to assemble at the chalet on this
occasion in their holiday dresses, decorated with Alpine flowers; and
with all the gaiety of youth, and with songs and dances, they attended
the descent of their herds, which were also decked with ribbons, and
bells, and garlands. At intervals the party sung together the touching
song of the _Ranz des vaches_, or some of the pretty Savoyard airs.

On the morning of one of these festivals a traveller, who had missed his
way in crossing the mountain, happened to apply at the chalet for
assistance. The youthful crowd were actually setting out--the song which
announced the general movement had already commenced--when seeing that
the traveller was faint and in want of assistance, they stopped and
hastened to relieve him. They gave him such refreshment as they could,
and, unmindful of their own interrupted pleasures, they delayed their
march to give him time to recover. When he was sufficiently revived by
their hospitality, he accompanied the gay party to the village; and,
charmed by their simple manners, he joined as well as he could in their
happy and innocent festivity.

The traveller was an English officer, who had been wounded. He was then
enjoying the bracing air and wild scenery of Savoy; and though he
intended to winter in Italy, he wished to loiter a little longer among
the glens and mountains of this picturesque country. Madeleine’s father
was interested by his appearance of ill health, and pleased by the
manner in which he expressed his gratitude for the kindness he had
received, and therefore invited him, whenever his wanderings should lead
him that way, to take up his quarters at Beaufort. He came more than
once in the course of the autumn, and was always welcomed with warmth
and hospitality by the good old Swiss and Madeleine.

At length he bade them adieu, and pursued his way to Italy, leaving them
in happiness and prosperity. At the end of two years he again returned,
and found them sunk into poverty and misery. The overflowing of the
Doron, early in spring, had caused universal destruction in the valley:
houses, gardens, and vineyards were swept away, and even the cattle,
which were to have gone in a few weeks to the hills, were included in
the general ruin. All was gone--a few hours had reduced these amiable
people from affluence to absolute want. He who had been master
there--whose active head and industrious hands had planned so well and
executed so much, was now the passive object of his daughter’s cares.
The shock had irreparably injured his mind, for he had spent his whole
fortune in making this place for her, and he had now the melancholy
consciousness that both were beggars. But Madeleine’s energy rose above
misfortune. She turned her whole thoughts to the comforts of her father
and the means of procuring them; and she earnestly prayed for the
blessing of Heaven on her exertions.

As soon as they were settled in a very small cottage in the
neighbourhood, she determined again to try the cultivation of the
vine--but considerably higher on the side of the hill--so as to be
secure from a second inundation. She intended to have laboured at this
new plantation herself, with the assistance of one old and attached
servant, but numbers of people from the neighbouring villages, who loved
her and were grateful to her, insisted on being allowed to help. It is a
common custom in Switzerland to plant vines on very steep hills, with
alternate rows of dry stone walls, to preserve the soil about the
plants; and Madeleine resolved to accomplish such a vineyard. By the
assistance of these good-natured people, a small plantation was made:
while some were digging, others built the little walls; and Madeleine
herself guided the donkies which were laden with earth to make a
sufficient soil, or with her own hands disposed it round each vine
plant, and dressed the whole.

Though the vineyard was small, she hoped to derive an additional benefit
from it for her father, by planting a few useful vegetables, which might
perhaps interest him in his favourite occupation of gardening. But when
she tried to rouse his mind to this, he only wept at the loss of their
former pretty garden, for which they had both done so much.

The group of walnut-trees still remained; and, fortunately, they bore
remarkably well. The gathering of the fruit and the pressure of the oil
is one of the most important occupations of the Savoyards, and Madeleine
was again assisted by her kind neighbours. The walnut harvest commences
about September; the fruit is beaten off the trees with long poles, and
the green husks are taken off as soon as they begin to decay; the
walnuts are then laid in a chamber to dry, where they remain till the
end of Autumn, when the process of making the oil commences. The first
operation is of course to take out the kernel, and for this the
neighbouring peasantry collect. They are usually placed round a long
table; a man at each end of it cracks the nuts with a mallet, by hitting
them on the point; and as fast as they are cracked they are distributed
to the persons round the table, who take out the kernels and remove the
inner part. The Savoyards are so lively, that this employment is in
general accompanied by songs and various amusements. The day that
Bertram, their English friend, returned, Madeleine was thus occupied;
while her poor old father, placed in a chair beside her, was gazing
vacantly at what they were doing.

Though changed so much in circumstances, she did not appear
dejected--she had not sunk into despair, and though her countenance, as
he told my aunt, no longer expressed gaiety, yet even in her tears she
had the smile of hope and cheerfulness. He had always esteemed her, and
was now so charmed by her various merits, and so anxious to assist and
protect her, that he persuaded her to accept his hand. He wrote to his
father, who is a clergyman in Wales; he obtained his consent, and for a
few years lived happily with Madeleine in her cottage, enjoying those
pleasures that follow laborious industry, and taking part in all the
tender cares she bestowed on her poor father. His half-pay added to
their comforts, but still he was obliged to work--to labour sometimes
for the pleasure of making Madeleine’s father comfortable at the close
of his life, and he was rewarded by the success of their exertions.

But the severity of the climate in winter and his laborious life were
too much for his constitution, which had never recovered the effect of
his wounds. He felt that his strength was declining; and the poor old
father having died, last spring, Bertram became anxious to return to his
own country. They had no longer any tie to Savoy, and Madeleine
willingly acquiesced in his wishes and sold her little property; yet it
gave her many a pang to part for ever with the place where she had been
so happy with her father--a place so endeared to her by years of
cheerful industry, and by the sympathy and kindness she had received
from all the inhabitants.

Unfortunately, Bertram became so much worse on his journey, that they
were frequently obliged to rest, and by the time they arrived in
Gloucestershire they found their expenses had been so great that they
should not have sufficient means to accomplish the remainder of their
journey. Thus stopped by want of money as well as by illness, poor
Madeleine was looking for some humble lodging, when that kind-hearted
creature Mrs. Ando, prevailed on them to come to her house. He has
repeatedly written to request his father would come to him, but till
last Monday he received no answer. It appears that the old gentleman had
been also very ill, and all his letters remained unopened. He is now
expected every day--and a sad meeting it will be, for my aunt fears that
his son is too ill to recover.

Mrs. Ando sent a messenger yesterday to tell my aunt that her poor
patient very much wished to see her again. She instantly went, and they
had a long conversation on religious subjects, which gave her heartfelt
pleasure, his sentiments were so pious. He spoke in the most affecting
manner of Madeleine’s cheerful and tender care; and added that having
been separated from his father when very young, he had become careless
and indifferent about religion;--for a soldier’s life is rather
unfavourable to religious improvement; but that his excellent wife had
perceived this, and with prudent caution had gently led him to _think_;
her good sense and admirable example awakened his mind, and while he
taught her the English language, she taught him in return the
principles, the humility, and the practice of Christianity.

    Still long she nursed him; tender thoughts meantime
    Were interchanged, and hopes and views sublime.
    To her he came to die, and every day
    She took some portion of the dread away;
    With him she prayed, to him her Bible read,
    Soothed the faint heart, and held the aching head;
    She came with smiles the hour of pain to cheer;
    Apart she sighed; alone, she shed the tear;
    Then, as if breaking from a cloud, she gave
    Fresh light, and gilt the prospect of the grave.

_5th._--I was rather naughty yesterday, I did not walk out; and my uncle
reproached me for it this morning. “If you shut yourself up every cold
day, Bertha, you will never become more hardy than the stove plants from
your own country, which would certainly be more ornamental, and more
valuable, if they could be reconciled to our climate, and made to grow
here in the open ground. And you, too, would be happier as well as
stronger, if you were able to enjoy the out of door pleasures of winter
as well as those of the fire-side.”

“Yes, uncle, I wish to do so, but I delayed till the day changed in
hopes of having Caroline with me; the straight beech-walk is comfortably
sheltered from the north-east wind, but then the high ditch prevents one
from seeing any thing, and makes it a dull place without a companion.”

My uncle laughed at my wanting to have a view from my walk, and said,
“Certainly it would have been pleasant to have had a companion; but for
my own part, I often enjoy a solitary walk: it is, I think, a great
advantage to accustom the mind to submit sometimes to solitude, and to
look for pleasure from within. Suppose there be nothing to see, why
should you be dull? Have you not memory and reflection for companions?
Do not your various pursuits furnish you with matter for consideration?
Study is absolutely useless, if you do not, by daily recalling what you
have read, endeavour to class and arrange it in your mind; can you feel
alone and dull when thus engaged, and is not that retired walk exactly
suited for such employment? But, come with me, my dear,” he added, “and
I will shew you sufficient to occupy both eyes and mind even in that
dull place.”

A walk with my uncle is one of my greatest pleasures, dear mamma.--I was
ready in a minute--and to the beech-walk we went; but it was no longer a
dull walk; all he says is so delightful, and he listens so patiently to
every question. After a few turns, in which I entirely forgot the
North-east wind, he said, “There is no place, my little Bertha, that
does not present some objects of interest to those who choose to open
their eyes. For instance, even on this rough ditch, and on the old wall
that joins it, you may see a curious variety of vegetation, which your
finest embroidery cannot equal. Look at those mosses; they are among the
meanest plants, yet there is not one that is not worth examining. The
fructification is still to be seen on that tuft of _bearded thread
moss_. Take your little magnifying glass and look at the cup which is so
delicate, and yet so firm, its edge strengthened by that finely toothed
ring, to which the slender conical lid is exactly fitted; its pointed
top, you see, serves to attach that little shining scaly membrane, which
is the principal defence of the flower and seed from the weather, and
which is called the veil or _Calyptra_.

“Now, Bertha, look at this _silver thread moss_, here on the walk, with
its diminutive leaves so closely pressed to the stem as to be hardly
visible; it is now quite green, but in some weeks it will become of a
shining silvery white, especially when dry; and this circumstance
distinguishes it from all other mosses.”

I asked him the name of the moss that is so common on the roots of the
trees, creeping through the grass round them, and growing in tufts of
long crowded shoots;--he told me that those long crowded shoots mark
that species, and he shewed me the brown fibres by which they cling to
the trees; and the leaves which grow in double rows, ending in little
crooked hairs; he called it the _trailing feather moss_. He seemed to
take as much pleasure in explaining a thousand things about them as I
did in listening. How stupidly I had walked up and down there, and never
cast my eyes on the beautiful structure of these little plants! We then
examined several lichens, some in tufts hanging from the branches of
trees and bushes, or encircling them with their crisp flat leaves;
others covering the stems with an odd white crust; while on the damp
earth beneath we found the _cup lichen_ in deep sea-green patches,
displaying its tiny cups like fairy wine-glasses.

“On those stones,” said my uncle, “you may trace the beginning of all
vegetation, from the little black spots, which are scarcely discernible,
to the larger lichens and mosses of different forms and sizes. Or, let
us turn to the grassy bank, and you may there see a great number of
herbaceous plants still green, mixing with that useful grass, the
creeping bent, which throws out fresh pasture at this late season from
the joints of its runners or _stolones_.”

He shewed me many of these plants; and more than once said, “Everything
here is interesting to persons of observation, and particularly so to
those who know something of botany. But they are not merely for
momentary examination--the variety and the design, to be found in each,
supply ample subject of reflection.”

Just at that moment I heard a shrill cry, and I interrupted my uncle to
ask what it was.

He told me that it was the alarm-cry of the fieldfare, and pointed to a
large tree at the end of the walk, where a number of fieldfares and
redwings, lately arrived from a colder climate, had collected.

“You see,” said my uncle, “that even without any fine picturesque view,
you may have abundance of amusement here, not only in observing the
growth of mosses and plants, but in watching the habits of birds. You
may see the little woodpecker, and the still smaller creeper running
nimbly up the stems of the trees, and pecking insects and their eggs out
of the crevices of the bark; or the fauvette and the friendly robin
waiting on every spray for a little notice; while in the thickets to the
left you may see the missel thrush, and may sometimes distinguish its
note, though it does not actually sing at this season.”

As my uncle said this, we approached the tree on which the fieldfares
were perched: they seemed at first unmindful of us; but, as we came
nearer, one bird which I had observed sitting alone at the very end of
a branch, rose suddenly on its wings and gave a cry of alarm, which was
the same I had heard before. The moment this happened, they all flew off
together, except one, which remained there till we almost reached the
tree, when it repeated the same cry and followed the rest.

My uncle told me that this is the constant habit of these birds; they
arrive late in autumn, and always collect in a flock, placing one on the
watch to give the alarm. When they spread over a field in search of
food, they never separate much, and fly off in a body at the first
notice of their sentinel. The redwing sings sweetly in its native
country, Sweden, though here it makes only a piping noise. As we walked
along, he told me that fieldfares were formerly kept in aviaries by the
Romans, who fattened them on bread and minced figs; during which process
very little light was admitted, and all objects were excluded from their
sight, that could remind them of their former liberty. We watched these
birds for a long time; and as we returned home my uncle said, “But in
suggesting these subjects of observation, Bertha, I do not mean that you
should always stand still in the cold to examine them; nor do I suppose
that in one walk you could attend to such a variety of objects. I only
want to shew you how much amusement a solitary winter’s walk, even
along a _dull_ straight high ditch, can supply for both eyes and
thoughts.

“Besides all these, you, my little botanist, might have another endless
subject for examination in our deciduous trees, on many of which you
will find that, unlike those of tropical climates, the young shoots,
leaves and flowers are formed in autumn, and cradled up in scaly buds,
where they are secure from frost, till the following spring.

“Indeed, the comparisons you must be naturally induced to make between
your two countries, might supply you with amusing and useful occupation;
and the result will be, that in each you will discover how peculiarly
every creature and every vegetable is adapted to the country where it
has been placed.”

_6th_, _Sunday._--I asked my uncle this morning, why Joseph said that
every shepherd was an abomination to an Egyptian; and also, why Joseph
expected, that when Pharaoh was informed that his father and brethren
were shepherds, he would order them to dwell in the land of Goshen?

“In the first place,” said he, “it is supposed that Egypt had been
invaded and subdued by a tribe of warlike shepherds from Arabia, called
Cushites, or sons of Cush. They were also called the Pali, or
shepherds; and their leaders called themselves the Shepherd-Kings. Six
of these Shepherd-kings are said to have successively reigned in Egypt,
till at length the native princes, weary of their tyranny, rebelled, and
expelled them. They retired into the land of Canaan, and established
themselves at Jerusalem, and in other strong situations in that country,
which, from them, obtained the name of Palestine, or Palis-tan--the
country of the Pali. These people afterwards became the Philistines, who
were such troublesome neighbours to the Israelites.

“The memory of their tyranny was still fresh in the minds of the
Egyptians, at the time that Joseph’s family removed to Egypt; and it
was, therefore, natural that every shepherd should be an abomination to
the Egyptians. Cush, you know, was the eldest son of Ham; the Egyptians
were descended from Mizraim, the second son of Ham, and Egypt is to this
day called Mizr, by the Arabs and Abyssinians.

“As to your second question,” continued my uncle, “in regard to their
being ordered to dwell in the land of Goshen, it appears probable that
there had been shepherds in those parts before; otherwise Joseph could
scarcely have foreseen that that portion of the land would be given to
his brethren. Besides which, Goshen being chiefly adapted to pasturage,
which was so contrary to the taste of the Egyptians, this region most
likely lay neglected. Hence we see why the Israelites found such easy
access into the country, so as not only to be allowed to dwell in it,
but to have the land of Goshen given them for a possession, even the
best of the land of Egypt.”

“I wonder,” said Wentworth, “why the Israelites were sent by Providence
into Egypt, as they were, after a time, to be placed in Canaan, the land
of promise, and would, therefore, be again unsettled and obliged to
remove.”

“It has been suggested,” said my uncle, “that the promise made to
Abraham, to give to his posterity the land of Canaan, was not to be
fulfilled, till this great family of Israel was strong enough to take
that land by force from the inhabitants, and to keep possession of it.
Besides, the Canaanites had not then completed the measure of their
wickedness, which was to be punished by the loss of their country.

“In the meantime, though the Israelites were obliged to reside amongst
idolaters, and were enjoined to preserve themselves unmixed; yet Egypt
was the only place where they could for so long a time remain safe from
being confounded with the natives. For the ancient Egyptians were, by
numerous institutions, forbidden all fellowship with strangers; and
having a particular aversion to the employment of the Israelites, they
were, by that means, more completely separated. Besides, during their
long residence of above 400 years in Egypt, the Israelites, who were but
simple shepherds when they went there, had the advantage of acquiring a
knowledge of the various arts in which the Egyptians excelled.

“The Bible here, as in many other cases, only records the facts: we
cannot now penetrate, my dear boy, into the causes or motives which led
to them; but we may be sure that what was dictated by Infinite Wisdom
was just and proper; and in venturing to assign such reasons as we can
infer from other circumstances in history, we should do so with great
modesty and distrust of ourselves.”

_7th._--My uncle has been obliged to go to London about business; he
left us this morning, but his stay will not be very long, I hope, for we
shall miss him excessively, and the more so, as winter is completely
begun. We have now dark days, with frequent rain and storms; few trees
have even a withered leaf remaining, and every thing out of doors has a
forlorn and desolate appearance.

But though the leaves are all gone, we have still a few flowers; the
China rose is still in bloom, and in the sheltered warm borders, we find
a few wall-flowers, some lilac primroses, and many Neapolitan violets,
which are delightfully sweet.

_9th._--When we were walking this morning in the forest, Frederick made
me take notice of a flock of crows, which were quite different in
appearance from the common rook. The back is ash-coloured, while the
head, throat, wings, and tail, are black. I was surprised at my own
blindness in not having observed them before; but Frederick told me that
they had only arrived lately, as they change their abode twice in the
year. About the middle of autumn, they appear in the southern parts of
England in flocks; and in the beginning of spring they depart in a
northerly direction; though in some parts of Scotland and Ireland, they
remain through the whole year. This species is still more familiar than
the rook, and in winter will go even to the yards of houses to pick up
food. It is called the hooded crow, or scare-crow. I heard it give two
cries, one was the hollow hoarse note of the crow, but the other was
shrill, and not very unlike the crowing of a cock. They are remarkable
for this double cry.

Mr. Landt, in his description of the Feroe Islands, says that one or two
hundred of these birds sometimes assemble, as if by general consent. A
few of them sit with drooping heads, others seem as grave as if they
were the judges, and others again very bustling and noisy. The meeting
breaks up in about an hour, when one or two are generally found dead on
the spot; and it has been supposed, by those who have observed them
carefully, that they were criminals punished for their offences.
Frederick says he has read that in the Orkneys, too, they meet in
spring, as if to deliberate on concerns of importance; and after flying
about in this collected state for eight or ten days, they separate into
pairs, and retire to the mountains.

Along with those we saw several carrion crows with their glossy plumage
of bluish black; they not only associate with rooks and other crows, but
approach our dwellings and saunter among the flocks; and I really saw
some hopping on the backs of pigs and sheep, with such apparent
familiarity that one might have imagined they were domestic birds.

Towards the close of winter the hooded crow and the rook remove to other
regions, but the carrion crows resort to the nearest woods, which they
seem to divide into separate districts, one for each pair; and it is
remarkable that they never intrude on each other’s portions.

Crows may well be called _omnivorous_ birds, for they eat every
thing--flesh, eggs, worms, grain, fish, and fruit. Shell fish, it is
said, they very ingeniously crack by dropping them from a great height
on a stone. Many people have seen this; and the great Mr. Watt, whose
observation was always alive, watched one of these sagacious crows
taking up a crab into the air, which it repeatedly let fall on a rock,
till the shell w?as completely broken. The same ingenuity has been
observed in another species of the crow family, in North America: a blue
jay, which had been tamed, finding the dried seeds of Indian corn too
hard to break, placed one in the corner of a shelf in the green-house,
between the wall and a plant box: having thus secured it on three sides,
he easily contrived to break it; and, having once succeeded, he
continued ever after to apply the same means.

_10th._--We have had a grand discussion in our walk this morning, on
genius. Mary’s opinion is, that it never exists originally; and that
wherever biography affords us the opportunity of learning the small
circumstances of early life, we may observe that something had occurred
to turn the attention, while young, to that pursuit, in which successful
perseverance had been afterwards ascribed to genius. For instance, in
the thirteenth century, some Greek painters being employed in the
churches of Florence, the youthful Cimabue gazed for whole days in
admiration of their work: he afterwards devoted himself to the art, and
quickly surpassed his masters. Here, but for the circumstance of the
Greek painters, his talent might have remained unknown even to himself.

“But,” said Caroline, “his own pupil, Giotto, may be opposed to your
theory; you know he was a shepherd boy, whom Cimabue found accurately
drawing the figures of his sheep on the sand.”

“I confess,” said Mary, “that does seem rather against me, but we do not
know what previous opportunities he might have had. Canova’s genius, it
is said, shewed itself in the obscurity of village life; yet we learn
from his Memoirs that he lived with his grandfather, who, though only a
common stone-cutter, was in the habit of designing and working
architectural ornaments, and surely that accounts for the tendency of
his pupil’s mind.”

“Very well,” replied Caroline, “I will leave you in possession of
Canova, and only ask what you think of West--the great West? Belonging
to the sect of Quakers, who disapprove of making any representation of
the human form, and born in North America, where the arts were not at
that time cultivated, he had never seen any sort of drawing; yet while
he was a very little boy, being desired to watch a sleeping infant, he
was so charmed with its little face and attitude, that he made an
excellent sketch of it with a bit of half-burned wood. Was not that,
Mary, from the impulse of genius?”

“I see,” said Wentworth, “that Mary does not think herself quite
conquered; but as it is going to rain, suppose we adjourn the debate, as
papa says, to another day. Caroline shall then have Bertha on her side;
I will do my best for Mary, as a true knight is bound to assist the
weak; and Frederick shall be the umpire, and adjudge the wreath of
victory.”

We all agreed to this plan; and I am sure it will produce a great deal
of amusement. My uncle and aunt approve of these good-humoured contests,
in which we never lose our temper, and all gain information.

_11th._--Our _genius_ conversation of yesterday having been mentioned in
the evening at tea, my aunt encouraged us to repeat our arguments, and
to defend them by fresh examples; and my uncle so nicely threw himself,
sometimes into one scale, and sometimes into the other, that both
parties valued themselves on his support. I am rather in doubt which
will amuse you most, the anecdotes of various people that he related, or
some circumstances in Canova’s life that my aunt afterwards told us: I
believe these interested me the most, so I shall begin with them.

“The beautiful country round Passagno, and the refreshing breezes from
the Alps, made it a frequent summer residence for the Venetian nobility.
Old Pasino Canova, who lived there, was often employed in the repairs or
embellishments of their villas, and on these occasions he was
accompanied by his grandson. Young Canova thus became known to the
senator Falier, who was afterwards his most zealous patron; and an
intimacy was formed between him and Giuseppe Falier, the youngest son,
which ceased only with Canova’s life.

“The ingenuous disposition of Canova, his animated countenance and his
modesty, interested the elder Falier; and he took him, when about twelve
years old, under his immediate protection. But it was by a mere accident
that his talents were first noticed. At a festival celebrated at the
villa of Falier, and attended by many of the Venetian nobility, the
domestics had neglected to provide an ornament for the dessert. The
omission was not discovered till it was too late; and, fearing the
displeasure of their master, they applied to Pasino, who, with his
grandson, was then at work in the house.

“The old man could suggest no remedy; but young Antonio desired to have
some butter, and in a few moments he modelled a lion, with such skill
and effect, that, when it appeared at table, it excited the attention
and applause of all present. The servants were questioned--the whole
was disclosed, and little Tonin declared to be the contriver. He was
immediately called for; and blushing and half reluctant, was led into
the brilliant assembly, where he received universal praise and
caresses.”

“There is a circumstance strikingly similar to this,” continued my aunt,
“which is told of our celebrated sculptor Chantrey, and of which I
believe there is no doubt, as I was told it by a person to whom
Chantrey, with noble candour, had himself communicated it. When quite a
boy, not more than nine or ten, he used frequently to visit his aunt,
who was housekeeper to a lady of fortune in Derbyshire. During one of
these visits, it was observed that the flowers and ornaments of the
pastry at table were executed with particularly good taste; and the
housekeeper acknowledged that she had allowed her little nephew to amuse
himself in making whatever ornaments he fancied. The lady determined on
giving him other opportunities of trying his talents, and finding how
very superior they were, she actually sent him to London to receive
instruction. With what delight this benevolent and judicious woman must
now behold the works of this great artist; and how much she must enjoy
the fame which he has so justly acquired!

“The progress which Canova made, and the perfection even of his earliest
works, is known to all the world; but perhaps you may not have heard
that during his whole life, both while suffering opposition from envious
artists, who threw every obstacle in his way, and afterwards when he had
attained the highest success, he preserved his unpretending modesty and
simplicity. He neither yielded to occasional disappointment, nor to the
vanity of shewing that he could surpass his rivals. Improvement was the
one great object which he unremittingly pursued, and all his ideas were
subjected to rigid examination; he compared them first with nature, and
he then flew to the Vatican, where he compared them with the
antique.--The result always calmed his solicitude; he returned with
fresh confidence to his _studio_, and in solitude laboured to perfect
his style, without either boasting to his friends, or triumphing over
his opponents.

“This modest reserve always marked his conduct. To the observations of
friends, whether of approbation or criticism, he seldom replied. ‘To
praise,’ he used to say, ‘what can I answer?--to the censures of
well-wishers I must listen in silence; for if wrong, their feelings
would be hurt by telling them so, and if correct, I endeavour to profit
by their remarks,’ But it frequently occurred that he reminded his
friends of their former criticisms, and candidly pointed out the
consequent correction.

“His high talents were combined with the most amiable disposition, and
a most grateful heart. His good old grandmother lived to see the success
and the excellence of the object of her care; and Canova, who cherished
every affectionate feeling, enjoyed that first of pleasures--the
repaying former benefits. After the death of his grandfather he brought
her to reside with him at Rome, and his friends still remember his
tender anxiety to make the close of her life happy.

“Canova sculptured the bust of his grandmother, in the dress of her
native province, which was the same as that of Titian’s mother; and this
bust he kept in his own apartment.--Pointing it out one day to a
visiter, he said, with much emotion, ‘That is a piece which I greatly
value;--it is the likeness of her to whom I owe as much as it is
possible for one human being to owe to another;’ adding, ‘you see she is
dressed nearly as Titian’s mother; but unless affection renders me a
partial judge, my grandmother is much the finer old woman.’”

_12th._--Mary has a most enviable memory; she has just been entertaining
me with what she read in Waddington’s travels in Dongola.

She says, the houses there are either a sort of mud fortresses intended
for defence, or else low cottages of straw and branches, tied together
with bands, and supported at each corner by the dry stem of a palm, to
which the walls are united.

The vale of Farjas is described as a most romantic little spot; a green
and cultivated valley not two hundred yards broad, closely shut in
between a range of high granite rocks, and a narrow branch of the Nile;
and flourishing in freshness and fertility, in the middle of the wildest
waste. The simple inhabitants offered a great many little civilities to
Mr. W. and his companions.

She mentioned also two very curious passes through the hills; one called
the “Pass of the Water’s Mouth,” near the entrance of which are two
immense stones, as regular as if formed and placed there by art; and the
other a winding pass amongst high rocks, that required an hour and forty
minutes to travel through it; it is oddly called “The Father of the
Acacias,” though from beginning to end it contains not one symptom of
vegetation.

But I can write no more now, for my aunt has sent for me to walk with
her, if I am so inclined--and that indeed I am.

_13th_, _Sunday._--The conversation, at breakfast this morning, having
turned on the history of Moses, my aunt observed, that the entire
account of his life is told in the most plain and artless manner,
unmixed with any circumstances likely to exalt his personal character,
and is throughout distinguished by that candour and impartiality, with
which Moses always speaks of himself.

I asked her, how soon after the death of Joseph, the destruction of the
first-born of the Israelites was decreed by Pharaoh.

“There is reason to think,” said my aunt, “that it was about sixty-four
years after the death of Joseph; probably soon after the birth of Aaron,
who had not been subject to this decree; and about one hundred and
thirty-three years after their settlement in Egypt.

“You are of course aware, Bertha,” continued she, “that Pharaoh was the
title of all the Egyptian sovereigns at that ancient period; the Pharaoh
who had favoured Joseph was dead, and his successors were ill-disposed
towards the Israelites, who had increased so much, that the Egyptian
kings began to fear them, for they still recollected the thraldom in
which they had for a long time been held by the Cushite or Shepherd
invaders. And besides, Egypt was still subject to incursions from the
Arabians, on that very side where the Israelites dwelled; which accounts
at once both for their jealousy of the Israelites, who had the power of
betraying them, by admitting the invaders, and also for the fear
expressed by Pharaoh, lest they should ‘get them up out of the land;’
because, as long as they were in Goshen, they were, if faithful, a sort
of defence to his kingdom, by being thus situated on its frontiers.

“But to return to the history of Moses--the ark of rushes which his
mother ‘took for him,’ was a little vessel or basket, made of reeds, and
daubed with slime or pitch, to keep out the water; it was probably of
the form of one of those boats, with which the river was always covered,
and made, like them, of ‘bulrushes,’ by which is meant the papyrus of
which the Egyptians made their paper, and which grew in abundance on the
banks of the Nile. This papyrus was strong enough to resist the water,
and well adapted by its lightness to swim with a child’s weight. The
vessels of bulrushes mentioned in both sacred and profane history were
made in the same manner on a larger scale. Bruce, the traveller, saw
them in common use in Abyssinia; and even at this day they are to be
seen on the Nile; though the introduction of plank and stronger
materials has caused them to be laid aside in a great degree.

“It was customary for the Egyptian females to express their veneration
for the Nile, by plunging into it, when it began to overflow the
country; and it is probable, that when the daughter of Pharaoh bathed,
it was in compliance with some such custom. Modern travellers tell us,
that a ceremony is still observed by the Egyptian females, of going to
solemnize with songs, and dance, and bathing, the first visible rise of
the Nile.

“Observe here, my dear children,” continued my aunt, “the chain of small
circumstances by which God leads mankind to the accomplishment of his
high decrees. When the daughter of Pharaoh goes to celebrate a heathen
ceremony--when she finds the babe, and calls the Hebrew woman to be his
nurse, and when that nurse turns out to be his own mother--what a
singular concurrence of events, simple and obvious in themselves, but
wonderful in their combinations!

“Josephus, the Jewish historian, states that Pharaoh’s daughter was
married but had no children, and therefore adopted Moses, and gave him a
princely education; that he became a man of eminence amongst the
Egyptians, was made a general and leader of their armies, and fought
some battles with success. While he was instructed in all the wisdom of
the Egyptians, he was taught at home a knowledge of God; his father
Amram imparted to him the promised redemption of Israel, and his mother
fixed the true faith in his heart; so that it became the guide and the
principle of all his actions.

“The land of Midian, to which Moses fled when he killed the Egyptian in
defence of the ill-treated Israelite, was a part of Arabia Petræa,
where some of Abraham’s posterity were settled; it lay upon the further
side of the Red Sea, to the east of the wilderness of Sin. During his
long absence from Egypt, Moses never forgot that he was separated from
his family and his nation; and to mark his feelings he called his son
Gershom, a desolate stranger. While he was thus an exile, he was trained
in the school of adversity; his faith was strengthened, so that it
prepared him for the arduous mission which he was born to undertake; and
he became ‘meek above all the men which were on the face of the earth.’
No man, indeed, had greater trials--but about them and the important
part he afterwards performed, I will take some other opportunity of
conversing with you.”

_14th._--I had so many questions to ask about papyrus, that I thought it
better not to interrupt my aunt yesterday, when Moses was more
particularly the subject of our conversation. This morning, however, I
begged of her to tell me some particulars about the paper made from that
plant, and I will now put down here the substance of what she told me.

“The _papyrus_, or Egyptian reed, as it is called, grows in the marshy
ground, caused by the overflowing of the Nile, and rises to the height
of six or seven cubits above the water. The stalk is triangular, and
terminates in a crown of small filaments, resembling hair, which the
ancients used to compare to a _thyrsus_.--It was very useful to the
inhabitants of the country where it grew, for the stem not only served
for building small boats, but was likewise used for making cups and
other utensils. The pith of the plant was eaten as food, and the root,
being full of a sweet juice, was frequently chewed.

“But the manufacture of paper was the most important of all its uses;
for I need not tell you, Bertha, that before mankind had some means of
noting events, the recollection of them was either lost, or became so
mixed with error, in being preserved by mere oral tradition, that we
have no records of the ancient transactions of the inhabitants of the
globe; except those contained in the Bible, which were, you know,
written by Moses retrospectively. Before the invention of letters,
mankind may be said to have been perpetually in their infancy, as the
arts of one age or country generally died with their inventors.

“When the outer skin or bark of the stem of the papyrus,” continued my
aunt, “was taken off, several slender films or pellicles were found one
within the other. These pellicles were carefully separated with a
pointed instrument, and spread on a table so that the thickest parts
were all ranged together. On these, another layer of pellicles was then
transversely placed in a similar manner, and moistened with Nile water;
the whole was heavily pressed, and when dried in the sun, formed a
smooth substance well fitted for writing upon with pens made of hollow
reeds, through which a coloured liquid was allowed to flow. The
saccharine juice in the bark helped to make the adhesion perfect, but
sometimes a thin coat of gum was laid upon the first layer. Thus large
sheets were prepared for writing, and when formed into books, the boards
or covers, we learn from some of the early Greek writers, were made from
the woody parts of the same plant.

“The Egyptian name of this plant is _Babr_, from whence both _papyrus_
and our word _paper_, seem to have been derived. The bark of a species
of mulberry tree was afterwards used for paper; and _liber_, which
properly meant the bark of a tree, was, therefore, applied to signify a
book.”

Caroline, whose memory always serves her at the right moment,
immediately repeated these lines,--

    Papyrus, verdant on the banks of Nile,
    Spread its thin leaf, and waved its silvery style;
    Its plastic pellicles Invention took,
    To form the polished page and lettered book;
    And on its folds, with skill consummate taught
    To paint, in mystic colors, sound and thought.

My aunt smiled, and then added: “To form those little bulrush vessels
that are alluded to in the Bible and elsewhere, the papyrus was made up
in bundles, and by tying these bundles together, and placing a piece of
timber at the bottom to serve as a keel, they gave their vessels the
necessary shape. Several ancient writers describe them; Lucan speaks of
the Memphian or Egyptian boat, made of the _thirsty_ papyrus; which
corresponds exactly with the nature of the plant, as well as with its
Hebrew name, which signifies, to drink or soak up.

“This plant requires so much water that it perishes when the river on
whose banks it grows is much reduced; and it is for that reason that Job
mentions it as the image of transient prosperity.”

_15th._--My uncle has returned, to the joy of the whole family; he looks
a little tired, but seems rejoiced to be at home. He has seen numbers of
curious things, and has already told us some of them.

One thing that he mentioned was very interesting to me; he met a
gentleman who had lately arrived from our southern regions, and who had
seen that wonderful luminous creature of those seas which I mentioned to
you in my journal when on board the Phaeton. According to this
gentleman’s account, each of these brilliant animals diffused a sphere
of light of eighteen inches in diameter; “Think then,” said he to my
uncle, “what the effect must be on the spectator, when the sea is
absolutely full of them as far as the eye can reach, and to many yards
in depth. One evening, in particular, from seven to eleven o’clock, the
ship sailed upwards of twenty miles through these living lamps; and the
strong light they gave enabled him to distinguish many fishes, even ten
or twelve feet beneath the surface of the water, that appeared to be
accompanying the ship.”

My uncle then gave us a very entertaining account of an experiment he
witnessed on the common house-spider, which proves that it possesses a
natural diving-bell, to assist it in crossing water. The spider was
placed on a small platform in the middle of a large tumbler full of
water, the platform being about half an inch above the edge of the
glass, and two inches above the water. It first descended by the stick
that supported the platform, till it reached the water, but finding no
way to escape, it returned to the platform, and for some time employed
itself in preparing a web, with which, by means of its hinder legs, it
loosely enveloped its body and head. It again descended, and without
hesitation plunged into the water, when my uncle observed, that the web
with which it was covered contained a bubble of air, probably intended
for respiration. The spider, wrapped up in this little diving-bell,
endeavoured on every side to make its escape; but in vain, on account of
the slipperiness of the glass; and after remaining at the bottom for
about thirteen minutes, it returned, apparently much exhausted, as it
coiled itself closely under the platform, and remained there for some
time without motion.

Another beautiful thing that my uncle was shewn by Dr. W., was a veil
woven by caterpillars--actually a gossamer veil. The ingenious person, a
German I believe, who had managed those little manufacturers, spread
them over a large glass, and contrived to place them so that the work of
each was connected with that of its neighbour. As he could direct or
change their progress at pleasure, he was not only able to form the veil
of a tolerably regular shape, but by sometimes inducing them to go two
or three times over the same spot, to give it the appearance of flowered
lace. The whole veil, though of a large size, weighed only three grains
and a half; and a breath blew it up into the air, where it floated like
a cloud.

_16th._--When my uncle was in town, he was present at the opening and
examination of an Egyptian mummy, along with several members of the
Royal Society. Some mummies, he says, have two cases; in these, the
outer one is ornamented with stripes of painted linen, and the inner
case is covered with a kind of paper on which figures and hieroglyphics
are painted with great brilliancy of colour.

The one which he saw had but a single case, which appeared to be made of
sycamore-wood, two inches in thickness; the back and the front being
fastened together by pegs. The case is made to stand upright, and is
covered, inside and out, with a kind of shell or coat of plaster, to a
considerable thickness. This coat is painted outside with hieroglyphics
in horizontal lines on a deep orange ground; and the whole is highly
varnished. The internal surface is likewise divided into broad stripes,
alternately white and yellow; and on both are inscribed hieroglyphics
and other characters about an inch long, probably consisting of prayers
or invocations for the dead, or perhaps of some biographical notice.

My uncle told us that the embalmed body was most carefully secured from
the air, by a covering of cerecloth, and by bandages that were applied
with a neatness and precision that would have done honour to the most
skilful surgeon of modern times. Of the many species of bandages which
are employed in surgery, there is not one that did not appear to have
been used; and they were so many times repeated, that after their
removal, they were found to weigh twenty-eight pounds. Each limb, nay,
each finger and toe had a separate one; and over all, another of great
length, which, though without stitch or seam, after making a few turns
round both feet, ascended spirally to the head, from whence it returned
as far as the breast, and terminated there in loose threads like a
fringe. In unravelling all these bandages, my uncle and everybody were
struck with the judicious selection of their size and form, so as to
adapt them to the different parts, and to give the whole a smooth
surface, without a wrinkle.

They appeared to be made of a strong compact kind of linen, and were all
of a dark brown colour, the result probably of some vegetable solution
that contained a large proportion of the _tannin_ principle. Many of
them were daubed with wax and some resinous or bituminous substance; and
some little crystals were found, from which a chemist who was present
seemed to think that lime had been used in preparing the skin.

The circumstance that most astonished my uncle was that some of the
sinews were still elastic and flexible, and that the joints moved as
easily as in a living body. My aunt and he afterwards had a long
conversation on the origin of the ancient Egyptians; the principal
circumstance that I picked up was that the celebrated Cuvier has
examined the skulls of above fifty mummies, and that, in his opinion,
they have the same characters as those of the Armenians, Georgians, and
Europeans; or, to use his expression, that the common origin of them all
was Caucasian. The skull of that which my uncle saw leads to the same
conclusion, and differed essentially from the form of the negro head. It
is a curious fact, which he says has been noticed by more than one
traveller, that whole families are still to be found in Upper Egypt, in
whom the general character of the head and face strongly resembles that
of the mummies discovered in Thebes, as well as the figures represented
in the ancient monuments of that country.

_17th._--A friend of my uncle’s, Colonel Travers, who has lately
returned from India, where he served for many years, arrived here
yesterday. He has been in various parts of the East, and is so
entertaining, that I am sure I shall forget to note down half the
curious things which I have heard him mention.

The conversation turned on bees, and he told us that in Mysore, where he
was for a long time stationed, he saw four different kinds. That which
makes the finest honey is a beautiful little bee of very small size, and
which does not sting. It is called the _cadi_. It forms its combs round
the branches of trees; the honey is excellent, and can be procured with
very little trouble, as the bees are easily driven off with a switch.
But the bee from which the greatest quantity of honey is procured is
large and fierce, and builds under projecting ledges of rock, or in
caverns. The honey is gathered twice a year, for which purpose the
people kindle a fire at the foot of the rock, and throw into it the
leaves of a species of _cassia_, which emit a smoke so acrid that
nothing can endure it--even the bees are forced to retire. As soon as
the smoke subsides, a man is quickly lowered by a rope from the top of