Chapter VI: Part 6

We had much conversation about the various species of palms which we saw; and particularly the real sago-tree, which grows in the East, and which exceeds all other plants in the quantity of nutriment it affords to mankind. My uncle told me that a single tree, in its fifteenth year, sometimes yields six hundred pounds weight of sago or meal; for the word sago signifies meal, in the dialect of Amboyna. Mr. Lumley said that, as these trees grow about ten feet asunder, an English acre could contain four hundred and thirty-five of them; and, supposing their average produce to be only one third of what my uncle mentioned, it would amount to eight thousand seven hundred pounds yearly of meal, from each acre. This, he said, was three times as much as would be considered a good crop of corn in this country. Sago is collected from five different palms, but not in the same abundance as from the real sago-tree.

We then examined some fine specimens of the date-tree, so famous in all our Eastern tales, and so delightful to all travellers. Mr. Lumley has often seen it near Lisbon, where it grows well; but the fruit never ripens perfectly in Europe. It is found in great abundance in Africa, and particularly on the borders of the vast desert of Sahara, where the parched sandy soil is so unfit for the production of corn. But the date-tree supplies the deficiency, and furnishes the inhabitants with almost the whole of their subsistence. Forests of this most useful palm may be seen there, of several leagues in circumference: their extent, however, depends on the quantity of water that can be procured, as they require constant moisture. The Arabs say these trees are very long lived; and there is scarcely any part of them which they do not make useful. The wood, though of a spongy texture, lasts such a number of years, that they say it is incorruptible; most of their instruments of husbandry are made of it; and though it burns slowly, it gives out great heat. The Arabs strip the bark and fibrous parts from the young trees, and eat the substance in the inside of the stalk. It is nourishing and sweet, and is called the marrow of the date-tree. They eat also the young leaves, with lemon-juice; and the old ones are dried, and used for making mats, baskets, and many other articles, with which they carry on a considerable trade. From the stumps of the branches arise a great number of delicate filaments, of which ropes, and even a coarse cloth, are manufactured.

Indeed I believe all the palms are very useful, even the humble dwarf fan-palm, which we saw also in this collection, and which Mr. Lumley says is very plentiful in Algarve, the southern province of Portugal; it seldom grows more than three or four feet high, though the stem is thick: its fan-shaped leaves are used for making the baskets in which the dried figs are packed; and its young shoots are eaten as vegetables.

But I was surprised not to see in this collection the silk-thread palm, that celebrated tree which you and I have had the pleasure of seeing in its own country, with its beautiful, long, serrated leaves, composed of innumerable fibres, both finer and stronger than silk, and of which the fishing-nets are sometimes made. How useful it would be if this tree could be induced to grow in England--and how my uncle and aunt would laugh at me if they saw this sentence!

We returned by a different road, and I enjoyed the day very much; the drive was in itself so pleasant, and it is so satisfactory to see any thing new with people who have real knowledge like my companions, and who are alive to the pleasure of seeing what is curious. The Miss Lumleys have seen very little, they have seldom been out of the forest in their lives; yet they are not at all ignorant. They told me that they have not much time for reading, but that what little knowledge they have, has been acquired by the conversation of their father and mother.

Mrs. Lumley is rather silent in company; she seems to have much tenderness, mixed with a firm mind--and though always cheerful, she looks as if she had suffered a great deal. I imagine they are in confined circumstances, for she said to-day that till the morning they came here she had not been for many years in a carriage.

_9th._ _Sunday._--After breakfast this morning my uncle conversed a little with us about the Epistles of St. Paul, which I had been saying were very difficult to understand; he remarked, “that if we attended to the long parentheses that St. Paul makes, and in which his energy and warmth sometimes seem to carry him away, we might easily connect the chain of his argument. But,” said he, “there are other causes of occasional obscurity. One is the nature of epistolary composition, leading the writer to refer to personal and local circumstances, and particularly to conversations, which were well known to those whom he addressed, and therefore not needing explanation to them. Another arises from the many allusions to peculiar laws and customs that were familiar to his readers, but requiring much research to comprehend them now. There is a third, and a very important circumstance, which is a source of frequent perplexity to commentators, and which, in some degree, affects all the writings of the New Testament, particularly those parts where doctrines are taught rather than facts detailed. Our great philosopher, Locke, alludes to this difficulty: he somewhere observes, that the subjects treated of in the Epistles are so wholly new, and 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.